#president snow x reader

[gh0stsp1d3r]

“It’s the things we love the most, that destroy us.”

He saw you in everything. Everywhere he went, he was reminded of you. Every time he went to district 12, or saw it, the painful memory of you and him walking through a meadow burned in his mind.

He saw you when his eyes shut, in the white roses he used to hand to you.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, he thought when he held the scarf in his hand, and heard the jabberjays sing to him from above.

You must have whispered to one before he could catch you, so your songs and voice could forever be remembered.

You did it to torture him, he thinks, because now, ever since that day, the ballad plays in his mind, the image of you engraved forever in his mind.

But most of all, he saw you in Katniss. The plant, and the girl.

When he sees her with her bow, holding it, his mind goes to you doing the same thing. When he sees her and Peeta, he sees you and him. When his reign ends, in his last moments, the last thing he sees is not Katniss, but rather you staring right back at him, with those eyes he used to adore.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow #snow x reader #president snow x reader #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[wireddless]

Addict

pairing: Coriolanus Snow/Reader

cw: 17+ hate. fucking. dubcon, possessive behavior, corio is emotionally abusive, vaguely implied Plinth reader, p in v, unprotected sex, nsfw below the cut,

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i just know hes so hung you guys i want him so bad

Living in the shadow of Lucy Gray was never an easy feat. That’s all she was after the erasure; a shadow, soon to be only a whisper on the sleeping breath of Coriolanus. The closest he could ever feel to real love was with the District 12 songbird, and had she been more than just a district animal, a member of the Capitol, there was no doubt in your mind he would have married her instead.

Your days at the academy, a few years his inferior, were spent in the naive mindset that he was fully capable of love. However, the only true love he would ever feel was towards the power in his cold-handed grasp. After your graduation, you continued living with your family, their prized figurehead of poise and beauty, until they managed to propose your hand to him, only a year or so before he became president.

Coriolanus, living on top of his family’s hidden debt and poverty, accepted nearly immediately, driven by the thought of the millions that came with your name. Your family, so charmed by the icy man, was manipulated into paying for the lavish ceremony. A Capitol wedding was a spectacle to behold, a sea of colored heads and garments, textiles in unique patterns decorating the spectators in a myriad of colors. An insipid eye-sore, in his opinion.

And there you were, the pale lavender of your dress cascading down your body like the drapes that covered a window in a lonely mansion, baby fat gone. The bright light in your eyes that has now long-since faded, the happy expression you held, truly believing the facade he had put on to convince your family that he was a perfect match, it all fueled a fire of satisfaction in his psyche. He remembered the young girl from their studious days, the sneaky glances shot his way from a face framed by baby fat, it was so easy to take advantage of a schoolgirl crush, to charm his way right into your heart. He’d never go hungry again, and he could finally focus solely on his rise to power.

Or so he thought. When you managed to pick his intentions apart and discovered the cunning and manipulative nature of the man, you became defiant, fucking petulant. Your once tender and loving gaze, seeking to nurture and care for him, hardened like the calcium deposits on the well pumps in the poorer districts of Panem. He heard in passing from the workers of the house about your violent fits of tears late at night. It wasn’t like he cared, hell, the idea of your reddened face damp with tears and snot amused him to no end. But fuck if it didn’t annoy him when Tigris became your closest friend and confidant.

Coriolanus kept you locked away in the golden cage of his home, not permitting the men of his staff to go near you, forcing you to discuss with him the simplest task of visiting your own family. You were still the key to his now inherited wealth, a prize that he had won with cunning and malicious tactics, and the thought of you straying into the arms of another man, who could take you, who could take even a bit of the control he held, it infuriated him to no end.

It took almost a year for you to realize that without your family, he was completely broke, and it took almost two to realize he never once held even a glimmer of fondness towards you, that he was using you. Tigris, who had spoken to you during her regular visits, had become the arms you fell into when the agony of your situation first befell you. Her hands wrapped around your body as she shushed and hummed quietly were a solace to you as the pain dawned on you. Three years after your marriage, you would speak in hushed tones over cooling tea, not bothering to hide your glare when Coriolanus bothered joining. He was no longer the subject matter of your conversations with Tigris, instead discussing gossip that had spread through the yammering mouths of Capitol citizens, and the newest trends to pass around them. She had become your dearest friend, one he couldn’t find a valid reason to hide you from. Though he never would admit while his heart was still beating, despite your shared animosity, you were still his favorite accessory.

The Reaping ceremonies for the next annual Hunger Games would begin soon, which became a sensitive topic between you and Coriolanus. It was no secret to you who Lucy Gray Baird had been, who she had been to him. What the hunger games meant to him. You resented her. Not for the place she held near his heart, but for managing to escape him before he had caged her.

The fire of your arguments was always sparked by her name, the tinder and fuel having already been prepared by the years of building resentment. Almost always in his office, your hands would shove him back as he rapidly approached you after you provoked him with harsh and unforgiving words, only fanning the flame of hatred he felt towards you. Then he would corner you, your back against the wall as one hand found your neck and the other found your hair, his fingernails digging at your scalp. His minty breath falling out of his mouth in heavy gasps as he fought the urge to kill you right there. You made him feel as though he was an animal from the districts, dirty and foaming at the mouth. And he hated that.

“You know I would never harm you.” He’d always reassure you when his grip on your throat finally loosened, his eyes taking in the way you would suck in air he had prevented from reaching your lungs. Coriolanus considered what little he allowed you, even the air you breathed, a favor. He thought himself generous, benevolent even. He wasn’t of course, and you were always quick to point that out.

Today's argument was only different in setting, within the walls of your shared bedroom rather than his office. You had shoved him, predictable, and turned to storm away, wanting to find a guest room to sleep in instead. But before you could reach the door, his hand had yanked you by your hair back towards him before nearly throwing you on the bed. When you sat up to scramble away, he shoved you back down by your shoulders and crawled on top of you, effectively pinning you to the mattress, an echo of your frequent taunts. It was rare that you two would actually be in such a position, as neither of you particularly craved intimacy with one-another, yet the way one hand slid up your negligee and gripped the curve of your thigh conveyed a much different message tonight.

“I just wish you’d shut up for once, you know that?” He growled. Coriolanus Snow was an aggressive lover. He put all his weight on his forearm strung across your chest to keep you pinned down as his fingers left their place on your thigh and slid up to the junction of your legs, cupping your heat rather aggressively before shoving them aside and sliding his fingers over your folds to find the sensitive and rather neglected bundle of nerves. You could hardly hide the shudder that overcame you as you responded.

“Fuck you!” You spat at him, writhing under his touch. Your head fell back on the luxurious sheets and you bit back a moan as he swirled his fingers in a circular motion over your clit, stirring the lust you had repressed to life. How he loved to see your eyes rolling back into your skull as you fought surrendering to his ministrations. The edges of his mouth lifted in a smug little smirk when your arousal became more evident, making your cunt slick and pliable.

Oh, how he adored to see his poor, neglected wife fall victim to her own human nature. It made him want to consume you whole, like you were a treat he got all to himself. Coriolanus’s mouth fell to your collarbone and his teeth scraped over the thin skin as he slipped his middle finger inside your sopping hole, earning an earnest mewl from your normally argumentative lips. He bit down rather hard at the junction of your neck and shoulder as he slowly, teasingly pumped his finger in and out. This would be easier than he thought.

He tilted his head back up to take in the sight of your demeanor flickering to something more vulnerable, before taking your mouth with his. He kissed you like you provided the air he needed to breathe, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. You’d be a fool to say you didn’t still crave him after the years of strained marriage. His teeth clashed with yours as you both attempted to deepen the kiss. When he pushed another finger inside of you, hooking them and speeding up, your mouth fell open with a shaky moan, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

When your mother described to you what sex was like, she explained it like an intimate dance, where two souls would merge with love and passion. But it was never like that between the two of you. It was always a battle, aggressive and antagonistic as one of you sought to take something from the other. For Coriolanus, it was a display of his authority and control. His fingers quickened in pace and your hips bucked up into his hand, searching for more friction that would aid in your release. And he was benevolent wasn’t he? Who would he be to deny such a rare and primal pleasure? His fingers continued their attack on the spongy roof of your walls, pushing you closer and closer until your hand tore at the skin of his back with the intensity of your orgasm. Still seeing stars, he pulled his lips from yours and hovered them over your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, damp with tears.

“See how easy everything can be when you just stop resisting me at every turn?” You opened your mouth to respond, to bite back when the arm that pinned you down quickly shifted so his hand could cup over your mouth. He loved shutting you up. His silent voice hissed in your ear with a lingering promise. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

So focused on his words and hot breath on your ear, you almost didn’t notice when he pulled his fingers from inside you to tug down your panties, discarding them somewhere behind him before fumbling with the breeches he slept in, the cold air of the room hitting his stiff cock. He brought that same hand up before him, spitting in it and spreading the wetness of his saliva over his hardened length. Barely giving you a second to process all that was happening, he pressed himself inside of you, his eyes squeezing shut and his brow furrowing as your tight, wet heat engulfed him entirely.

Having not been intimate with him in so long, it was like he was splitting you open, and you cried out with pleasure into his hand, your own lashes pressing together as you took his total length. Coriolanus didn’t remain still for long, and his hips soon began setting a bruising pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he fought the urge to moan himself, not wanting to appear any less in control than he was. Your muffled gasps spurred him on, practically driving him mad as he pummeled into you. The volume difference when he removed his hand from your mouth and forearm from your chest was quite noticeable, and his fingers wove into your hair once more, holding your head back against the bed as he swallowed your moans with his mouth.

The stinging pain of your nails in the skin of his back when they flung around him was dulled by the sheer thrill he felt taking you like this. The hand that coaxed your orgasm out of you found its way to your thigh again, pushing it up over your torso to rest on your shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper inside of you as his fingers dug into the hot and tender skin. You nearly screamed into his mouth from the change in sensation as his hips came flush with yours over and over again. For a brief moment, he pulled away from the kiss to bite and suck at the skin of your neck, letting you sing out unmuted by his hand, as he imagined his songbird would so many years ago.

Coriolanus hated you. He hated almost everything about you. He resented you the way you resented him, but he was still addicted to you. Addicted to the control you allowed him as he fucked you stupid, to the way your pitful moans were brought about by him, to the dumb fucking look on your face as your body managed to make his hips stutter and falter as he came inside you with a low moan. He didn’t care about pulling out. You were his wife, a state figurehead, it was part of the job description to give birth to his children. Maybe getting you pregnant would even do him the favor of shutting you up. He didn’t bother helping you clean up as you readjusted your nightgown, instead opting to wipe the sweat from his brow and tuck himself back in the satin pants he intended on sleeping in.

Coriolanus Snow was not capable of real love. All those close enough to him were well-aware of that fact, including you. But when he crawled into the bed and pulled you, still breathless and trembling, up next to him, when he tucked your head into his chest in a possessive manner, your hands pressed against his heated chest, when he fell asleep holding you like you’d run away too, you momentarily convinced yourself he might have been able to love.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #president snow #president snow x reader #president snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #tom blyth just one chance please #hunger games x reader #the hunger games x reader

[tonixe]

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.

#coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas smut #tbosas movie #tbosas fic #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games x reader #pervent!coriolanus #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x y/n #president snow x reader #president snow #coryo snow

[itsbuckytm]

Envy and Passion / Coriolanus Snow

summary : being the daughter of Casca Highbottom had its advantages and challenges. As long as one maintained a private and noble demeanor associated with the family name, there were benefits to enjoy. However, the downside came in the form of her father's deep-seated animosity towards the Snow family. despite this, the Coriolanus Snow devised a plan to reunite her, foreseeing a journey towards greatness, enduring purity, lust and a lasting legacy.

ps ; read part two!!

english isn't my first language, so i excuse for small typo or error mistakes. ps : please don't copy my work or use it without proper credit! thank you

You experienced contentment as a student at the Capitol's Academy, all thanks to your father's insistence that you become involved in his work until graduation. It was during your final year that the announcement for the 10th Hunger Games came unexpectedly early. While you had expected to work alongside Dr. Gaul as a Gamemaker, you found yourself assisting during the reaping ceremony. It was there that you first encountered Snow. 

"No distractions." Your father emphasized, implying a prohibition on interactions with your classmates. Despite the difficulty in ignoring the palpable tension between him and Snow, a part of you harbored a wish that, without the animosity, a friendship could have blossomed. That's what you longed for—a connection you could deem as friendship. To everyone’s surprise, Highbottom's daughter being chosen among the mentors became the talk of the Academy, thrusting you into the limelight against your wishes. Being the center of attention was something you despised the most.

"Miss Highbottom." Dr. Gaul greeted you as you entered the room designated for the impending reaping ceremony. The enthusiasm in her voice hinted at some special arrangements for your role and, perhaps, your involvement in a specific aspect of the Games. However, such expectations shifted when you observed Snow's silhouette standing beside her. A brief exchange between the two suggested an ongoing conversation, making you contemplate to excuse yourself of interrupting further. Despite this, Dr. Gaul, with her customary smile, welcomed your presence and inquired. "Have you met Mr. Snow?"

Did you meet him? Undoubtedly, you had. Given your father's openly declared animosity towards him, it was clear that some past conflict existed between your father and Snow's. Yet, the perplexing part was why such strong feelings were directed at the son, who was merely alive and fulfilling the responsibilities of a dutiful citizen. That remained a mystery to you. "Certainly, I have. My father never stops talking about him. How he 'adores' him." you replied with a touch of irony. In the peculiar logic of your father, adoration seemed to coexist with complete disdain. 

Snow's demeanor appeared uneasy in your presence, yet he quickly regained confidence when he noted your affirmation. Whether you were suggesting this to please Dr. Gaul or for some other reason, he intended to assert his dominance once alone, especially with a member of the Highbottom family. However, instead of confrontation, he simply smiled and acknowledged the subtle comment. "I can't say I'd be eager to hear what Y/N's father thinks of me, let alone my family's name." He remarked. 

"Don't take it personal." You suggested, a smile playing on your features as you attempted to lighten the moment while conversing with Snow. It was intriguing to encounter the Snow your father so vehemently despised, and yet, here he was, appearing composed and not entirely matching the description your father painted. "My father has always had a soft spot for pretty faces." You added with a hint of irony.

In the realm of subjective beauty, Snow found it almost amusing to consider that you held your own private entertainment. Embracing your father's comments, you became a figure easily envied, yet the tension shared between them made it difficult not to be stirred. Fairly speaking, you stood out as one of the most attractive girls in the class, alongside Clemensia; the two of you complemented each other seamlessly. Described as cold as the winter’s snow due to the striking contrast between your fair skin and dark locks inherited from your mothers, you and Clemensia exhibited a captivating allure. Snow entertained the notion that if he delved even further into the profound depths of your eyes, he might lose himself completely—in love, that is. And he hated every bits of it. 

"If I were you, I'd be on my best behavior, sweetheart." He advised, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Dr. Gaul was observing. You could almost swear you saw her smile transform into a devious smirk, a subtle admission that she relished the spectacle before her—a spectacle of envy and hatred entangled in a mutual trap. "And what will happen if I don't?" You countered, striving to maintain control just as your father made his entrance, signaling the commencement of the reaping ceremony. His eyes fell upon you and Snow in close proximity, prompting him to be the first to assert authority. "Snow, to your seat now." He commanded. It was evident that Snow's disdain for your father resurfaced as he shot you a final glance before begrudgingly taking his seat.

Fortuitously, you found yourself seated next to him. In all honesty, you had orchestrated this arrangement, intending to be by his side even before your father's disapproving gaze hinted at a switch. However, it was too late by then; the ceremony had commenced, and your father's attention was fully absorbed in the mentors and assigned tributes. This provided you with the perfect opportunity to approach Snow once again. Leaning in, both eyes fixed on the screen to maintain an appearance of focus, you remarked. "You know, if it weren't for my father's animosity towards you, I'd be eager to get to know you."

Snow's piercing blue eyes shifted from the screen to yours. He blinked twice, as if questioning whether he had heard correctly. Highbottom's own daughter appeared to be permitting their adversary to draw a little closer. Or perhaps, in her eyes, he wasn't an enemy at all. He chuckled ever so slightly at the ironic situation. “And if it wasn’t for your father’s constant reminder that my own father was an asshole, I’d say that his own daughter is the most prettiest and fuckable girl I have ever laid my eyes upon.” 

A blush crept beneath your features, a delicate balance of beauty that Snow took pleasure in accentuating. You shared the same acknowledgment as he did, though you maintained a touch more class, unlike him. He tended to be straightforward and always in control, a demeanor he effortlessly displayed as he rendered his fellow classmate completely vulnerable with his words. Leaning in further, his fingers traced along your thigh, causing a tingling sensation at its touch and making your blush more evident. "To be fair, I've always had my eyes on you, you know?" He confessed. "Dr. Gaul wanted to make a proposition earlier and suggested that we work together for the whole semester, even having the lab all to ourselves…" 

“Meaning?” Of course you knew. Having the Lab to yourselves meant that Snow was going to make sure that he had every bits of fantasies piled through him just to have you all too himself. “Meaning, I’ll be able to fuck you endlessly. Maybe a distraction is what I do need after all. Can’t say that especially having the luck to be with Highbottom’s most gorgeous daughter.” 

That wasn't until Snow himself became entranced by your beauty, especially when it was his turn to learn about the tribute he was about to meet. "Coriolanus Snow." Your father's voice echoed with the same undertones of hatred and boredom, his disdain evident at the mention of a name from a generation he feared would worsen Panem. "District 12. Girl." Snow's gaze shifted from the screen to the captivating performance you were putting on. Yet, his current fixation remained on you. Leaning in further, he let his breath linger in the crook of your neck, his lips gently brushing your skin, and you could've sworn you felt a few pecks too. Fortunately, your father remained oblivious, continuing to list the remaining mentors. Suppressing a silent giggle, you pretended that Snow had said something amusing. "And how about..." He continued, placing a few more pecks on your neck. Delicately, you tried not to make your blush too obvious. "After the ceremony, I have to get some paperwork done at the lab. It would be a shame if I didn't have something to keep me focused." 

“Why of course, Mister Snow.” You admitted it so effortlessly, causing Snow's smile to transform into a cunning smirk. It was a smirk filled with desire, and longing. Snow yearned to experience the taste of you and hear you utter his name, just so your father could discover that his own daughter had unknowingly fallen into Snow's snare. From this moment forward, you belonged completely to him.

“Then, I’ll make sure to know who you belong to. Princess.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagine

[casualhedonists]

so scarlet, it was maroon (18+)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: nsfw (18+), praise kink, oral sex, fingering (fem receiving), overstimulation, secrecy (kinda), multiple orgasms, bruising, biting, pre-tbosas, academy!coryo, he's also more dominant in this! yay dom coryo, this is a little rough but super consensually so

main masterlist // coryo masterlist

a/n: what's the point in getting laid if you can't use it as smut writing inspo? serious question

Your body gets littered with bruises every time you wake up next to Coriolanus. It doesn't matter if he means to leave them; it just sort of happens.

He fingers you open right there in his room, you grip his wrist as he smiles against your mouth like he’s not doing anything lewd, like Tigris and his Grandma’am weren’t right downstairs, cooking dinner. Your other hand twisting into his hair and pulling hard. His hands are a lot bigger than yours, they can reach places you usually can’t. You figured that out fast; almost as fast as he did.

He fucks his fingers into you like he doesn’t care if people hear. It feels dangerous, like you’re teetering on the edge of a building, brushing the sky and about to tumble down. You’re almost embarrassed by how easily he’s reading you like a fucking book, fingers pressed between the pages, carving notes into the margins. Your own hand presses against your mouth because you know his won’t, and you’re holding onto your last shred of dignity as tightly as you’re grabbing his hair. You don’t know where you wish he would look; between your spread legs or at the look on your face as you come undone. You’re glad it’s the former as your face contorts and he fucks you harder, any more and you might shatter.

You whimper, broken moans muffled into his neck. You hear the smile in his voice as he speaks.

“Oh, you’re fun.”

You melt. Try to whisper something back, some half-assed attempt at a rebuttal that you forget as soon as it leaves your lips.

You stare up the ceiling, ears ringing, a thin cast of sweat covering you over. You barely notice how he moves between your legs, shoulders shifting to push your thighs apart even more. You moan just at the sight of it, both of your hands now in his hair like they were drawn by some magnetic pull. He doesn’t waste time, doesn’t let your high die down. You guide his head where you want it but he doesn’t really need the direction, so as he speeds up you use the pull on his locks to buck up towards his mouth. He doesn’t let this last; pins you down again until you’re squirming on his tongue.

When he slides his fingers back into your cunt you forget being quiet, a cry slips out that only makes him move faster, like he’s desperate to hear more, to know exactly what he’s doing to you. He stops every so often, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, making you jerk with the pressure.

He holds you down as you cum against his tongue, lips pulling into a smirk as his thumb presses into your clit making you jolt.

You hear Tigris call up that dinner is ready, and fuck, it’s like he timed it to leave you flushed and fucked out while you tried to get through dinner with his cousin and grandmother.

The next day when you shower, you notice a bruise blooming on your arm, and much to your surprise, a second on your thigh, dark and bite-shaped. You drag him into a bathroom stall between classes and lift your skirt.

“This is your fault.” You say pointedly. His eyes darken at the sight of it, tracing it with his thumb. your breath hitches.

“Not here.” you hiss. “Fuck, I'm still sore.”

“Can you come over tomorrow night?” he asks absentmindedly. You frown.

“Is that okay?”

“Grandma’am loved you. Tigris, too, obviously. They’re glad that I found a good Capitol girl to take home.”

His breath tickles your ear.

“Of course, they don’t know just how good you were.”

“Coryo…”

“See you then, beautiful.”

He leaves you in the stall, catching your breath, and you know one thing for sure.

You’re so fucked.

a/n: i went to get the milk. i'm sorta back now? hope you lovely people are thriving, and that you enjoyed. life is still hellishly busy but i'm gonna try and be more active i MISS U ALL

tags: @xjinnix @bvngsblog @upsidedownjill

(to be added to my coryo taglist you can drop a comment here)

#mimi writes! 🕊️ #tbosas #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #president snow x reader #snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x you #thg tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tigris snow #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[fallingstqrss]

kiss it better

request: can you do a one-shot just like the scene where coryo goes insane because he thinks that the reader left him in the cabin but she didn't and they just go to spend some quality time.

a/n: thank you so much for the request i love this idea!

summary: following the death of Mayflower and Billy Taupe you and coriolanus decide to flee the districts, hoping to avoid the persecution of the peacekeepers. however, when you seem to get lost in the woods coriolanus panics.

warnings: there is a brief description of mayfair's death but it's not detailed. coriolanus might be slightly ooc cause this is my first time writing him but i swear im trying my best.

Coriolanus had made a huge mistake. he hadn't meant to kill Mayfair, he just panicked. He was just going to let her leave but then you walked in, making you a part of Sejanus' horrible plan.

"What's going on?" You spoke, eyes moving from Coriolanus to the weapons that lay on the table. Coriolanus saw as your eyes widened and he hurried to comfort you. "Corio, what's going on?" You questioned again, clutching onto his bicep, hoping for reassurance.

"Y/n, it's gonna be fine-" Coriolanus started, attempting to soothe you as he ran a hand across your cheek.

"Oh, none of you are going to be fine. I'm gonna tell my Daddy what all of you did and he's gonna string you up!" Mayfair spoke in an almost taunting tone. Her threat casts a chilling shadow over the room. As Mayfair turned to leave Spruce, fueled by tension and adrenaline, raised the gun to her back.

"I can't let you leave," Spruce spoke. Y/n took an unconscious step back, recoiling from the potential for violence. Coriolanus could tell you were scared and he felt horrible for being the reason you were involved in this. His mind was racing, he knew he had to get you out of there.

"She's bluffing, she won't actually do anything." Billy Taupe defended, eager to avoid any harm that might come to his girlfriend and to deescalate the growing tension in the room.

"Really? Was I bluffing at the reaping? Tell me Lucy Gray, how did you like your time in the Capitol?" Mayfair spoke, eyes staring at Lucy Gray, who gasped. Mayfair smiled as she turned to leave. Coriolanus jumped at the opportunity, lunging for the weapon on the ground. In a single second Mayfair had fallen to the ground. You gasped, your eyes fixated on Mayfair's fallen figure. Coriolanus was quick to shield you from the unsettling sight, positioning himself in front of you.

"I need you to go home y/n. I'm going to get this figured out. But you need to go home right now and you can't look like anything is wrong," He spoke, his tone firm and filled with urgency. "y/n, please." Coriolanus spoke again when you didn't move. You had stood still, trying to process the events that had just unfolded in front of you. Finally, you looked up at Coriolanus, a nod of reluctant understanding breaking through your shock. You trusted Coriolanus, he would get you guys out of this.

Coriolanus watched you leave, a mixture of relief and worry painted on his face. Once you were out of sight, he turned back to the remaining people in the room. He was determined, now that your safety was at risk nothing else mattered.

That's how the two of you ended up here, walking through the woods, in search of life beyond the districts. Despite some attempts at small talk, the weight of the recent events hung heavily in the air. Coriolanus could sense you were struggling to come to terms with the deaths of Mayfair and, more importantly, your shared friend Sejanus.

"I just don't understand what happened. Sejanus' plan was horrible but he seemed like he was being careful," You rambled on, your voice heavy with confusion and grief. You were unaware of Coriolanus' involvement in the death of your friend. You also didn't notice the tension of the captured Coriolanus at the mention of Sejanus.

"He apparently wasn't careful enough," Coriolanus responded, his tone colder than usual, a deliberate attempt to steer away from the conversation surrounding Sejanus. He longed to focus on the two the two of you would spend together, the new life you could start. Coriolanus was taken aback when you came to an abrupt stop, forcing him to backtrack to stand in front of you. You stared up at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Do you not mourn for Sejanus at all, Corio?" You spoke, your eyes reflecting the sadness and confusion that weighed you down. Coriolanus felt a pang of guilt for being distant. However, the truth of Sejanus' death was a burden that he couldn't bear to share with you. He knew you would've never forgiven him.

"Of course, I do," Coriolanus spoke, his tone softer now in an attempt to console you. Coriolanus brought a hand to cup your cheek. "But, it was his actions that killed him." You still seemed unsure, offering a careful nod before turning your gaze to the ground. Coriolanus dropped his hand, moving to walk next to you again.

Eventually, the two of you arrived at the cabin shown to you by Lucy Gray and the Covey. Coriolanus couldn't shake the feeling of your silence, finding it unsettling. The two of you walked into the cabin, setting your things down. "We should fish for a while, we're going to need some food for the rest of the trip," Coriolanus suggested.

"Lucy Gray said there should be some poles under the floorboards," You spoke, avoiding eye contact with Coriolanus as you hung your belongings on the hooks by the door.

Coriolanus nodded, moving towards the boards he found to be loose. He lifted the boards, his eyes widening as he lifted the sheet to reveal the guns that had been used to kill Mayfair. You observed from across the room, a twinge of concern gracing your features. "What is it, Corio?" You questioned, his familiar nickname being a small sense of comfort in the moment of the unsettling discovery. He remained silent, picking up the gun as he turned to face you. Your breath caught in your chest as you saw the weapon, your mind flashing back to the violent events.

"It's the guns," Coriolanus stated, his eyes moving between the weapon in his arms and you. "This means we can go home," You hummed, nodding in agreement. The revelations held the promise of an escape. The promise of a way home. But, they also unearthed memories Coriolanus knew you could never fully forget.

"I'm going to see if I can find anything to eat around the lake, maybe that one root Lucy Gray mentioned," You spoke quickly, shaking your head as she grabbed one of the small shovels left near the door.

"Y/n, wait," Coriolanus spoke, sensing the uneasy energy that surrounded you. "It could be dangerous," Coriolanus spoke, his protective nature kicking in. You smiled as you recognized his instinct to protect you.

"Well, it's a good thing I've got this," You spoke, attempting a teasing tone as you held up the shovel. You could tell Coriolanus didn't quite believe you and you hurried out of the door. Coriolanus was worried for you but brushed off the interaction, trusting that you could take care of yourself. He rewrapped the guns, hoping to drop them into the lake, burying the echoes of the past.

Coriolanus stepped outside heading towards the boat. His eyes circled his surroundings, hoping to find you. However, he didn't see you. He looked around again, his breathing becoming more ragged as he called out for you. He was met with the horrifying echo of his own voice, no response from you.

You had ventured into the forest after finding that Katniss was not ready to be eaten. You had hoped to find some berries, remembering the ones Maude Ivory had collected for you to eat. You attempted to ignore the way the trees seemed to close in on you, the path you thought you knew being erased. You ignored those thought, you had been going in a straight line, there were no place to get lost along the way.

"They should be up here," You whispered to yourself, letting out a sigh as you hoped to break the silence that lay within the forest. The rustling leaves and distant calls of birds engulfed you as you moved throughout the forest.

You had been walking for a while, looking around you realized you have never been in this part of the forest, a sign that you had gone way too far. You turned in various directions, spinning around as you searched for the way you came. Panic began to set in as you quickened your pace, unfortunately leading you to venture deeper and deeper into the forest.

In her disoriented state, you failed to see the root sticking out of the ground. Her foot caught on the root, causing you to stumble forward. Desperation clawed at you as you tried to regain your balance. However, the forest had other plans.

A divot in the ground forced you to the ground as your hands reached out to break your fall. The forest floor met you with a sickening thud, your head colliding with a moss-covered rock. The world around you spun, the pain in your head intensifying with every breath you took. As your consciousness slipped away, the forest seemed to blur into a blend of green and brown, the shadows seeming to dance together in a mesmerizing rhythm.

Back at the cabin Coriolanus grew restless as he awaited your return. The seconds felt like hours as he stared at the tree line, willing you to appear. Finally, Coriolanus was sick of waiting and decided that he would find you himself.

As he ventured into the forest the trees seemed to swallow him. His breaths came out fast, each step propelling him further into the silent forest. Anxiety was clawing at his chest, hundreds of what-ifs raced in his mind.

"Y/n? Did something happen? If something happens we can talk about it!" Coriolanus shouted, pausing as he awaited a response. But he didn't receive one, he only had the rustling leaves to greet him. The silence that surrounded him was deafening.

"Y/n, please say something. I need to know you're okay," He pleaded again. The forest remained silent, offering no hope to comfort his growing concern. Fear painted vivid scenarios in his head, each one darker than the last.

"Please, y/n, if I did something I'm so sorry. We don't even have to talk about it, please just come back with me." Coriolanus pleaded. His pleas became more urgent. His mood shifted from worry to complete despare quickly.

"Please, I can't lose you too." He spoke, this plea much quieter than the previous ones. His voice broke as he spoke, his eyes searching for any clue of you. His steps quickened as he moved around the forest, his handles trembling as he pushed branches out of his way.

"Please, y/n," He called one more time, assuming the worst. He'd come to the conclusion that you left him. It was either that or you were dead, but he couldn't bring himself to grasp the idea that you were dead.

Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you began to stir on the forest floor. The pain in your head still lingered but the sound of someone's voice distracted you from the pain. You listened more closely as you tried to sit up. Your senses were snapped back into reality when you realized that it was Coriolanus' voice you were hearing. The closer you listened you realized how distressed he sounded and it practically broke your heart. You listened again to his ever-present calls, trying to hear which direction they were coming from, his voice acting as a life-line.

"Corio," you called out weakly, standing as you braced yourself on one of the trees. Coriolanus' head snapped in the direction of your voice. He hurried in that direction, his eyes wide with fear and relief. "Coriolanus," You called out again, wondering if you had imagined him calling for you.

"Hang on y/n! I'm coming," He spoke. Relief washed over him when he finally saw you leaning up against one of the trees, Coriolanus rushed towards you. In your disoriented state you barely even realized he had found you until he engulfed you in his arms. Your senses finally started to come back to you as you reciprocated the embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Coriolanus pulled away for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, he could hardly believe he'd actually found you. He'd thought you were gone for good. Your eyes met his, being met with a vulnerability from Coriolanus you'd never seen before. Coriolanus hated the way you made him felt. He hated how worried he always was for you. But, he also couldn't deny how much he loved you.

"What happened?" Coriolanus finally spoke, brushing your hair out of your face to examine the cut on your forehead.

"I was looking for those berries, the ones Maude Ivory showed us and I got lost, and then I think I tripped," you began to ramble, stopping yourself to take a breath before speaking again, "It's all kind of a blur." Coriolanus nodded as he processed what you said, unraveling his arms from you as he wrapped an arm around your waist to help guide you back to the cabin.

"Well, I think we should get you back to the cabin," Coriolanus spoke and you laughed as you nodded. You'd had enough of the woods.

Back at the cabin Coriolanus used one of the med-kits you'd brought to clean you up. Your heart swelled at how gentle he was, his hands moving cautiously over your face.

"So, will I survive?" You questioned, a smile gracing your features.

"I think you'll be okay," Coriolanus responded, a smile of his own coming across his face. But, you could tell the smile didn't meet his eyes. You could tell something was still bothering him. The sunlight pouring in from the windows illuminated the worry that was still present in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the fear he'd felt when he thought you'd abandoned him in the forest.

When Coriolanus finished cleaning the wound he set the supplies to the side and leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on the spot he'd just tended to. The warmth of his lips lingered on your forehead, a comforting gesture that transcended the physical healing.

"There, kissed it better." Coriolanus whispered as he moved away from you, cleaning up the remaining supplies of the med-kit.

Despite his comforting gesture, you couldn't ignore the concern that was still etched on his face. As he finished putting the med-kit away he turned to look at you, being met with your questioning gaze. "Corio, you've been on edge since we got back. What's wrong?" You questioned him, taking a couple steps closer to him so you could wrap your arms around his waist.

Coriolanus hesitated, his eyes betraying his turmoil of emotions. He opened his mouth to respond but the words got caught in his throat. Tension lingered in the air as you searched his face for clues on what he was feeling.

"It's nothing, y/n. Just a scare, that's all. Everything is fine." Coriolanus spoke. However, despite his attempts to comfort you, you could still sense his unease. You reached upwards, cupping his face to draw his attention.

"Come on, Corio. Talk to me," You spoke. Coriolanus sighed, he was torn between his desire to shield you from his concerns and the intimacy the two of you had always shared. Eventually, he gave in.

"I just... I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you. losing you in the woods, even if it was just for a moment, it terrified me." Coriolanus confessed softly. Your eyes softened at his confession.

"I'm right here, Corio. I'm not going anywhere." You assured, he nodded. "I love you, Coriolanus. Wherever you go, I'm gonna be there." You spoke, his words caught him off guard. The two of you had never used the word love.

"Y/n..." Coriolanus started, his eyes moving away from you. However, your hold on his face forced his attention back onto you. "I've never been good at this, relationships. I'm afraid of losing you, of not being enough." You nodded, you understood Coriolanus' insecurities as he'd previously voiced some of his concerns to you.

"Corio," You took a step closer, "I love you for who you are. I don't need you to be perfect." You assured him. Your words hung in the air, in that moment, leaning into Coriolanus, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. Coriolanus, having been initially surprised by the kiss, eventually surrenders to the kiss. When the two of you pulled away you spoke again. "I want to go back to the Capitol, Corio."

Coriolanus looked surprised but that was overtaken by a look of happiness. He wanted nothing more than to return to his home and family, and now that you did too there was nothing stopping the two of you. "Wherever you wanna go, I'll follow you." Coriolanus spoke, repeating the words you'd said earlier, you smiled at him.

The decision being made, the two of you faced what leaving the woods meant. Coriolanus worked to dispose of the guns while you packed the remaining items you had at the cabin. As you walked out of the door you saw him pushing the boat back to shore. Coriolanus jumped out of the boat, outstretching his hand for you. You smiled at the gesture, moving to meet him, enclosing his hand with your own.

#coriolanus #coriolanussnow #snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #president snow x reader #president snow #ballad #balladofsongbirdsandsnakes #thehungergames #hungergames #lucygraybaird #sejanus #sejanusplinth #corio x reader

[comfortscripts]

The Way I Love You ¬ Coriolanus Snow

Plot - All you want is one night with Corio, the real him. Pairing - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Best Friend!Female!Reader Notes/Warnings - Corio is ooc in this, but the idea is that he is slightly hinged for her and he is aware of his redflags. Possessive? Mentions of deaths. Reader is lowkey just blind to Corio's darkness. First fic back so let's see how it goes! Word Count - 1,443

9pm

“You promised!”

“And when exactly did I promise this?”

He watched as her fists clenched the corners of her skirt, breath dripping with exasperation. Calmly watching from the comfort of his leather chair, nursing a glass of amber whilst his eyes followed the milky fabric adorning his best-friend’s figure. Almost 30 minutes of her attempting to convince him to leave his opaque penthouse.

“Last year, when you were too busy on my birthday, you promised me that I could choose whatever I wanted to do for one da-” Stilling her movements, frozen as realisation washed over her. “You sneaky fucker! Not once have you forgotten a promise between us.”

Corio wanted to laugh as her face scrunched with faux anger, but all he did was cock his eyebrow as a gentle smirk settled on his lips. “Of course, I didn’t forget. However, this little song and dance has been quite amusing.”

Resting his drink to the side, he rose to full height and reached his delicate hand out towards the girl. “I will agree, purely on the premise that nothing we do could harm either of our reputations.”

A smile brighter than freshly fallen snow crept onto her face.

“You have my word.”

1am

Corio may have noticed the ache in his legs if he didn’t have such a captivating distraction hanging from his bicep. After aimlessly strolling through the Capitol, the myriad of hues illuminating their faces as they spoke of the most mundane aspects of their adult lives to giggling at memories of their youth. Having known one another since the tender age of 10, there is little left unsaid between the pair. Perhaps only one thing.

“I’ve missed you Corio”

Shifting his head to where her figure was pressed against his side, their tandem steps slowed. Only those who understood the inner works of Coriolanus Snow could see the cogs turning behind those azure eyes. Flickering across her face, attempting to decode her words.

“Don’t be silly. We see each other constantly; your office is barely 20 steps from mine.”

 The young woman bit back a sigh. In all the years she had known Snow, he excelled in many things but struggled with matters of the heart. “No, I see Coriolanus Snow constantly. Future President of Panem, prodigy Gamemaker. I can barely remember the last time I had a conversation with the real you, Corio, before tonight.”

Stilling completely, allowing her arm to slip from the loop of his. It was a rare occurrence for the young man to be devoid of words, only having ever been rendered speechless by the very same woman only a touch away. In all truthfulness, he yearned for her presence. He longed for the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with delight when indulging in dessert, her uncanny ability to understand his thoughts, and most importantly, the way she allowed him to be himself.

He missed her too.

Perhaps it was his silence, or perhaps it was the cool air that unsettled her. Bubbles of anxiety began to rise in her stomach, fearing that she had overstepped or somehow offended the blond. “I only mean that you have sides to you. Whilst I like all of them, the one I care about most is the real you. I’m sorry, but I miss my best friend.”

“I barely know the real me anymore.”

It was truth. Being betrayed by Lucy Gray, the blood on his hands, the character he has had to play since; it was exhausting. The darkness swirling inside of him corrupting his daily thoughts, paranoia and greed clouding his mind. It was all too much to expose to her.

She embodied life, a breath of fresh air in a world torn apart by capitalism and violence. Coriolanus could never understand why she cared for him, why she befriended him. But he could never jeopardise losing her. The darker side of him wishes to lock her up in the Penthouse, so her sun only shines for him. Keep away the prying eyes of men who wish to glimpse the sweetness of her smile. But alas, he cannot. An innocent fragment of his soul forbids his darkness from tainting her, even if he must create distance to do so.

“After all that has happened, the Corio you know barely exists anymore.” Those stormy eyes refusing to meet her gaze by fixating on the gleaming silver ring adoring his finger. “If only you knew, you wouldn’t look at me the same.”

The warmth of her hand sliding into his captures his focus. “If only I knew about what happened during the games? If only I knew about Lucy Gray, and those people you killed? If only I knew how dark your soul feels? I know Corio.”

Snapping to meet her gaze, he feels as if she had knocked the air out of his lungs. How could she possibly know? Why would she be standing here with him? Was she going to hold this over him? A flurry of thoughts stormed behind his eyes, as she only tightened her hold on his large hand.

“Did you really think you could lie to me? I know you better than I know myself. When you came back from District 12, I could see behind those lies you were spewing. I saw the hurt she caused, the trauma you had witnessed, and how it broke the light inside of you.”

For the second time tonight, Coriolanus was speechless. Perhaps she didn’t know whose blood coats his hands, or the exact details of what happened those years ago, but she knew enough. And she was still standing there in front of him.

“And you still care about me?”

“I will always care about you Corio.  Now come on, I want to take you somewhere!”

And with that, she pulled him further into the night.

2:45am

Neither of them had uttered a word since their conversation.

Laid side by side on the refreshing emerald blades of grass as they look towards the stars above, only their subtle breathing filling the air. Despite the silence, the interlocked fingers expressed a thousand words.

A hitched breath broke the still atmosphere of the hilltop.

“Do you love me?”

Her words stopped his heart mid-beat.

“What? Of course, I love you. You are my best friend.” His words flow smoothly, as his thoughts run erratically to concoct the perfect lie.

The grass shuffles as she turns her head to face him. “No, do you love me like I love you?”

Corio continues staring straight towards the constellations, knowing that her alluring eyes could weaken his resolve in mere seconds.

“Because the way I love you is more than someone who loves a best friend. Almost as if you are the only person who makes my heart dizzy with joy. If you don’t love me the same way, it’s okay. Just needed to finally tell you.”

The breeze acts as a ticking clock, emphasising the lack of response from the young man and amplifying the anxiety building in the woman as she faces the stars once more.

Its almost too quiet to be heard, a whisper in the wind, but she hears it clearly. “I do love you the way you love me.”

Turning in unison to face one another, his free hand reaching to caress the toasty skin of her cheek.  Gentle strokes of his chilled fingers, drawing without destination on her skin as the blond builds the courage to speak once more.

“The way I love you terrifies me. You are the only one who brings me happiness, the only one who knows my sorrows, the only one I would sacrifice for. I obsess over you. I want to hold you and protect you. I wish to possess you. All because I love you the way you love me.”

Searching his irises for any fragment of dishonesty, her smile grows as she finds none. Inching closer to the man who has held her heart for a decade, his minty breath invading her senses.

With lips mere millimetres apart, a light whisper leaves her mouth “I’ll be yours Corio, for as long as you are mine. We can possess one another.”

As if those were the only words he ever craved, he intertwined his lips with hers. Soaking in the feeling of ecstasy as his hold on her tightens. She embraced the overwhelming sensation of complete bliss, revelling in every single second as her fingers interlock with his porcelain-locks.

Her lips fit with his so perfectly, it was clear that they were made to possess each other. And now that Panem’s king had his Queen, nothing could break him.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #president snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #tbosas #tom blyth x reader

[daenysthedreamersblog]

STRANGERS III - 'THANK YOU MR. PRESIDENT, SIR'

I’m happier here cause he told me i should be

You’re so handsome when i’m all over your mouth

part one & two here

summary: you hate president snow, hate him and his stupid ugly roses, but he might be the only one who can save you from the man buying your virtue.

pairing: president!snow x district6!reader

warnings: MDNI!! swearing, slapping, choking, manipulation/coercion, power imbalance, slight dubcon, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, BLOOD!, slight somophilia, breeding kink, let me know if i forgot anything!

notes: alexa play 'stockholm syndrome' by one direction. (jk strangers by ethel cain)

He didn't come at night, nor the rest of the week. He left you alone in the large guest room to sit frightened in a queen size bed. After a few days you walked the grounds, the gardens and greenhouse once more, no sign you had ever been in there. You walked around his large empty home, no children, no wife. So quiet. Except for the servants flittering through occasionally.

You assumed he had finally forgotten about you, time had moved on and so had he.

Until the stylist came.

You were crying before they even started working on you knowing what this meant. Knowing what was awaiting you downstairs.

"It will be over quickly my dear," They hushed you trying to put the makeup on. "Just hush no-!"

"Just get her a damn drink!" The other snapped.

Soon enough a small glass appeared in front of you with brown liquid filling half the cup. You drained it peering up at them with blurry eyes and burning lungs, "Will it hurt?” You knew it would, you were stalling.

She smiled, it was fake. "No." A lie. You only held out your glass for them to fill finally letting them prepare you for slaughter. They allowed you one more drink before getting you ready

It was another white floor length gown. Thin straps covered your shoulders, the skirt was covered in a sheer tulle material littered with white roses. They had done your hair up stray pieces falling prettily across your face. A neutral shade on your lids, a pretty pink gloss on your lips. They sprayed a heavy scented perfume across your body, spread some sort of glitter onto parts of you skin.

No underwear. They had refused to let you put them on per the president's orders.

"Tigris." You pleaded. "Where is she? May I see her before you take me?" She wanted to help you before, maybe not enough, but she had tried to talk to him.

They shared a look, the middle one speaking, "She's not allowed to work on you anymore." Your heart sank.

Then they were walking you out of the room.

You wondered who would be punished if you fought back, if the peacekeepers would gun you down as you sprinted across his lawn. You dug your nails into your palms as they walked you to the dinning room basically pushing you through the door. You stumbled slightly inside catching yourself on the large door before glancing up. He was slightly upset, but his eyes softened just a little when they took you in. His picture of innocence and beauty, his perfect white rose in a thorny garden.

He looked handsome, beautiful even in a deep red suit, white rose pinned to the front. His perfect blond hair sat styled atop his head, no stray piece in sight, piercing blue eyes gazing down to your morrow. He sat straight, commanding the room simply by existing in it. Your heart thumped roughly as if you were staring at a saving grace and you longed to be near him if only to stay away from the other man in the room.

Your buyer was smiling at you once you took your seat. The room was larger than the other, a long table stretched out filled with empty plate settings and various floral arrangements (mostly hideous white roses that filled the room with their stench). A large chandelier and various wall lights illuminated the room in a warm glow. "You look exquisite." The man held up his glass.

You smiled gently raising your own glass and downing it. You expected to be reprimanded, but maybe they thought it best if you were wasted and willing. Did Snow tell him? No that would ruin the image he was trying to present to his bidders. You held out your glass for a refill.

Dinner was four courses and once again no body spoke to you thankfully. They let you drown in you cups as they spoke about politics, the games, the animals in the districts. Music was playing softly in the background and you drowned them out while pushing food around your plate.

"Eat." Snow's voice cut through your dissociating. It was the third course and you were already borderline stuffed opting to fill yourself with wine instead of substance and you were consuming more than normal not feeling the effects of it just yet. You opened your mouth to explain, but he narrowed his eyes at you.

So, you ate. The man chuckled, "You've got that one trained well Snow."

Snow chuckled as well, "I can't take all the credit, she came that way." Like you had arrived in a crate just for him.

He glanced across at you, “How did you learn those manners out in 6?”

You looked at Snow, then back to the man, setting your utensils down to let your hands fall in your lap. “My parents.” He furrowed his brows at you. You forget sometimes, how lowly they viewed people from the districts, how confusing it must be to learn they aren’t all savages…for the most part. “My grandfather ran a tight ship, so did my father.” It was the simplest form of the story.

“Hmm.” He chewed on his food, swallowed, and spoke again. “And your father? What does he do?”

You fought the quivering sigh, “He's a mechanic of sorts, helps put together anything that comes back broken or malfunctioning.”

The man chuckled, “And he likes what he does?”

“I think so,” Your face burned feeling as if he was mocking you somehow, looking down at you.

He only smirked swirling around his drink as his attention turned to President Snow, “I heard they have a huge morphling problem out in 6.” You knew that, had seen it when you turned down a wrong street. You stopped listening as the conversation turned away from you. You missed your father, missed the smell of oil on him when he came home, missed how he used to put you on his shoulder when you were little to see the hovercrafts take off. You were forgetting that smell, smoke and oil that coated the air sometimes, now the air sat thick with the scent of roses.

That life was gone now, killed in the arena.

You drank more, you forced yourself to eat to avoid them talking to you anymore and when the man had thrown his napkin down letting you know the dinner was finished you wanted to puke everything up again.

You had your hands folded in my lap picking at your cuticles until pain pricked, blood blossoming up like a rose. You brought it to your mouth hearing Snow's chair screech backwards, "If I may?" He held out his hand for you which you took greedily, “How does a nightcap sound.” He wasn’t talking to you.

“Always Snow.” So informal. “What’s mine is yours.” He joked standing up to follow as Snow led the three of you wherever he wanted to go.

You glanced up at him, and he met you half-way with a sidelong stare. You wanted to beg him, plead with him to not go through with this. You hoped he could see the worry in your eyes, but he looked away. He stopped at a door down the hall pushing it open and pulling you inside. It seemed to be an office or study. A large dark wooden desk, books lining shelves against one wall, a small hearth, two armchairs and small table between them with a love-seat across it, and a makeshift bar with various colored liquor in glass decanters.

He sat you on the elegant love seat and went to the bar. You sat up straight, sucking the blood off your finger again before it got on your dress as you watched the man take up one of the armchair seats. He handed the man a drink, one in his hand, and sat down next to you. He didn’t give an explanation to why you didn’t get one, probably thought it best after drinking so much through dinner despite the fact you felt completely sober. You blamed all the food he forced you to eat.

“She’s not going to kill me once we’re alone right?” The man lowered his voice as if you weren't in the room.

“No,” Snow chuckled. “She’s completely docile.” He reached over to grab your hand. “Would you like me to be in the room just in case?” You involuntarily squeezed his hand feeling his thumb caress your knuckles in response.

The man shook his head unaware of the movement. “That’s alright. Will there be ways to…subdue her if it comes to it?”

“Yes of course,” Snow smiled. You body went cold. “I’ve prepared a room for the two of you…with supplies, and we’ll have guards close by.” You glanced at the man watching you, finding solace in Snow's warmth radiating onto you.

He seemed suspicious of you, “Are you sure she’s a virgin?”

“Yes.” You wanted cry out that you weren’t just to make him leave. But then he may find someone worse, someone perhaps crueler than this man could be. Snow had promised to pick out someone you would like, but you weren’t sure what the criteria had truly been. You didn’t realize you were crying until water landed on your wrist.

"Please don't let him do this to me." You whispered.

Snow’s blue eyes met yours satisfied with your emotions, and then he reached out to stroke a palm down your cheek. You nearly leaned into the touch if it meant you could get away from another, “She’s a good girl.” He looked at the man, “She’ll behave.” Blood ran down your finger from the small cut and he brought it up to his mouth sucking it slightly, “Isn’t that right?”

The man set down his glass loudly. “Well, thank you for the lovely meal President Snow.” He was standing up, and you were gripping Snow’s hand even tighter.

He shook it off, patted your thigh, and stood up as well. “A toast first, for a wonderful evening, and another successful game.” He walked passed the man, who was looking at you, while you stared after Snow. Your heart was thumping loudly in your throat, bile rising with each short breath.

His back went straighter as he glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes narrowed in on your face, at the water welled in your eyes, at the blood still slowly dripping from the tip of your finger. Then he turned back to pour the drinks. He handed one to the man, "To victory." He clinked their glasses watching with dark eyes over the rim of his glass as they drank.

The man took a deep breath as he finished and handed his glass back offering Snow a polite smile, "I think we will retire for the rest of the night.”

“Of course,” Snow nodded. He motioned to the door, “Your room is right down the hall.”

The man’s hand wrapped around your bicep. "Please." You begged. "Please Mr. President!" He only watched you with cold eyes. "I'll be good! I'll be good for you!” Your buyer gripped you harder, dragging you away a litter rougher this time. You stumbled over your shoes, the dress, feeling him grapple with you to keep moving.

“Behave,” He hissed. “Like he told you.”

You wrangled within his grip. What had Tigris called him that day, what did she say; you squeezed your eyes trying to remember, losing your footing completely and letting the man drag you through the door.

He's possessive.

Your eyes snapped open meeting his, "Coriolanus." The room stopped moving, nobody breathed as your eyes widened with the plea, as your other hand outstretched for him. "I'm your good girl, don't let him take me from you."

The door closed in your face as he dragged you down the hall. It was quiet now all you could hear were your ragged breaths, his grunts as he dragged your fighting body to the room. He pushed open the door and you realized they truly had set it up so nicely for him. There were candles and atrocious red rose petals, a white silk nightgown to put you in if he wished. “Put it on.” His voice was cold and distant. You stared at him watching him glance up and down at you, and then he sighed. “I paid a lot of money for you. Don’t make me hurt you.”

You shook your head.

He shoved you onto the bed. “You’re so fucking sweet to him.” He began to unbuckle his belt. “Probably lap him up like he's sweet fucking cream.” This was it, you thought for a second staring at the ceiling. Then you fought back. You clawed at him feeling his skin breaking, you bit and kicked as he rustled with the skirt of your dress until you slashed him across the face with sharp painted nails. “Ugh!" He groaned gripping his bleeding face. “Do I have to fucking go get him so you stop fighting me!” You stilled, giving yourself away completely, and he straightened on top of you. “He’s a fucking liar.” His eyes grew vicious. “And you’re a fucking whore! I knew it, I thought I saw something strange going on. He’s fucking you isn’t he? Isn’t he!” He slapped you across the face, your head snapping to the side, cheek stinging with the blow. “You probably want him to come in, save you, con me out of my money.” He pinned down your hands as he pushed up your dress. “Tell him I want it back. I paid for a virgin, not his slut.”

One moment he was planting himself between your legs, the next, blood dripped onto your face. One drop, then a splatter as his nose leaked red liquid. He reached up to touch it, confused, and then he collapsed on top of you. He wasn't breathing, he wasn't moving, dead weight atop of you. Your hands were up, too shocked to scream out for someone, too confused at the dead man lying on top of you.

Weight was soon lifted off of you and a loud thud hit the floor, but you couldn't look, couldn't look as you heard them dragging his body out of the room. You couldn't look at anything but the space above you until he was hovering over you a sly smirk on his lips, "You are full of surprises bluebell.” He scooped you in his arms and carried you away from the room. You knew you were shaking, you knew you should be scared as he walked with you away, alone. He walked you up a set of stairs and down a long hallway finally opening up a door to set you on your feet.

He closed the door, locked you in with him.

"Did you mean it?" He whispered, his voice husky. "That you'll be good for me." Your mouth dried, but what did you expect when he came rushing into that room. It wasn't because he cared; it was because someone was touching his property. "That you don't want anyone to take you away from me.” Your eyes went wild, that wasn’t exactly what you had said. “You wanted me to save you, I saw it in your eyes. You wanted me, not him. You squeezed my hand. You begged me, and I saved you.”

You slowly looked up at him. “Did you kill him.”

He came closer, "You think I would really let him take what's mine.” His hand came around you, fingers pulling down the zipper of your dress. "You cried out for me that night. Screamed my name as I made you come over, and over, and over, and over again. Your pussy adores me, needs me, sucks me in like its starving, to be filled, be claimed." He smiled down at you, "It's mine, you're mine. You belong to me…and deep down you like that.”

You couldn’t look away from his face, "I didn't know your name."

But you did. Tigris had shot it through the room like a stray bullet when he forced himself on you. It ingrained into your subconscious and when he was fucking you with his tongue it had fell off your lips like sweet honey. Then you had called it out tonight…

Your body seemed to warm at the memory as you tumbled right into his awaiting palm. “Kiss me.” He whispered. He pushed the sleeves of the dress off your shoulders, not letting it move further. You did. It fell to the floor in a heap leaving you bare in front of him. His hand trailed down your naked body lightly tracing the curve of your spine to the top of your ass his hand splaying to grip the whole thing. “Kiss me.” His mouth lingered over yours a slight smile to it, "I know you want to, you like when I kiss you, you get so wet when we kiss." Your brows furrowed because no that wasn't true; unless that was what was sliding down your naked thigh. He grabbed your face opening you up for him to consume. His tongue fought yours, easily winning as one hand came up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple; you shivered, leaning into the touch. "You will listen, you will obey." He said walking you backwards to the bed. ”You will let me fuck you.” He lowered you onto the bed. He hovered over you sliding his mouth along yours, licking into your mouth, kneading your breast, biting down on your lip.

He stared down at you patiently awaiting your answer, as if he even cared what it was…maybe he did. But your shocked body ached for him to consume it, and was there really ever a version out there where you got to tell him no?

"Okay.”

He trailed across your face nipping at your jaw harshly, you winced. "I didn't let them serve you tonight." He sat up tugging off his suit jacket, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "I had them switch it out for sparkling grace juice. I wanted you sober for this.” He pulled his shirt off revealing a toned muscled chest glistening with sweat.

You couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment, stare at his perfect naked skin. “You planned it all.”

“Of course I did.” He scoffed. "I told you I would choose someone you liked." And he believed that to be himself. He bent back down sinking his teeth into your collarbone tongue lolling against your skin. His mouth slid along your breast, sucking in your nipple, rolling his tongue along it. “And you are so wet by it.” You had ignored the slickness forming between your thighs all night, ignored how you had been rubbing them together under the table the more he looked at you. He reached his hand back, running his fingers between your folds, gathering the wetness up in his own hand and bringing it back to his face, "My dirty little white rose." He rammed his hand into your face smearing your own arousal around the tangy taste seeping into your mouth. Then he was dipping back into you, stretching you open with two fingers as he straddled your stomach. "You take it so well. You just let me do whatever I want to you hmm?" He curled his fingers and your face burned as you chewed on your lip. "You like it too, you fucking love when I make you cum." You squeezed your eyes as he stroked the sweetest spot inside of you, fighting down the agreement boiling in your lungs.

But your body remembered, and it was slowly tilting your hips to meet each brutal thrust of his hand. You tried to focus on anything other than how good his fingers felt inside of you, how the pressure was tightening in your stomach, how your skin was blazing in the wake of his touch. It didn't matter how hard you clenched your jaw, the second his thumb pressed down on your clit you let out the softest moan. You felt his hips grind against you at the noise his hard cock digging into your stomach, his fingers pinching your nipple then running it between them. It was cruel, truly, for him to make you feel such decadent things. To have this power over you, but then again, he always had. You were reaching for him, or trying to push him out, you weren't sure anymore but your nails were clutching his arm for dear life as the pleasure washed over you. You clamped down on his hand cumming for him like the savior he was with the tiniest whimper. He kept going, moving his hand harder, moving backwards to dive down and wrapping his mouth around your clit. It was too much, your vision blurred. You were shoving at him harder, "It's too much."

He pressed you into the mattress tongue swirling around you clit, and you couldn't move, couldn't see anything but stars and feel his mouth suck you clit in. Your stomach curled in on itself the second orgasm building too fast feet digging into his sides as tongue deftly moved along your over sensitive bud. You cried out that time as you came hand tangled in his blond hair unknowingly. "That's my girl." He smiled down at you, chin shinning with your pleasure. "That's how I know you like it."

You clamped your legs closed once he moved. He tried to pry them apart as your hands came slashing down at him, pushing at him to get off of you, to stop before he did something you knew you couldn’t come back from. "Open your legs." He growled fingers digging into your thighs so hard you felt skin busting apart. He was on top of you shoving his knee between your legs grabbing both your hands to hold them above your head. “You're mine.” He spoke so gently, so matter-of-factly, you were starting to believe him as a tear slid down your cheek. “You wanted me, remember?” Your teeth tugged at your lip. “It will feel good." You knew that. It was exactly why you wanted to stop him. “Kiss me.” He was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, breaking your resolve. He was undoing his pants, and you let him slowly open your legs, let him slid between them. “That’s my good girl.” He smiled into your mouth and pushed into you.

The pain was blinding no matter how wet he had made you. He split you in two as he pushed inside of you inch by excruciating inch. You screamed so loud as every fabric of muscle broke open between your legs. You felt warmth rush between your thighs, the breath you tried to take cracking open your chest. He moved so slow, trying to move further inside your tight walls as they clamped around him. He was still for a moment enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him, or maybe it was a shred of kindness preventing any more pain. All you knew is his eyes were squeezed shut, broken pants expelling from his mouth, his hand resting on your shoulder digging in so hard it almost distracted you from the throbbing agony where your bodies were connected.

You almost took a second to admire him, between the intensity, but then he bottomed out inside of you.

"Oh." A breathless word.

Your pussy fluttered around him and he shuddered, "Fuck."

Then he pulled back slightly, pulled back until you almost felt relief that he was out, only to slam back into you. You grunted as your vision went away, white the only thing you could see as he did it again, and again, and again. His hand fell off your wrist needing to grip your waist as he pressed his forehead to yours, lips capturing every small force of air he shoved out of your mouth. "You're so fucking tight." He groaned his other hand on your shoulder pushing himself deeper. You felt him in your guts abusing your cervix with quickened thrust. You weren’t sure what you were feeling, broken sobs leaving your throat, there was pain, but there was something else too, something that was turning the sobs into moans. "I can feel your pussy clenching around me, can feel you getting wetter by the second." He bared his teeth against yours letting you gasp out into his mouth. "Be my good little whore and enjoy what I'm giving you.” He leaned up and back slowing slightly, and it gave you a moment to glance up at him. Sweat coated his forehead a blond curl across it as he watched where his cock disappeared inside of you, fascinated as you sucked him in greedily. His hips slapped against yours, lewd noises resonating around his bedroom each time he rammed in and out of your drenched cunt. His tongue swiped across his parted lips as the pain ebbed away completely replaced by horrible pleasure.

You ground your teeth, you fisted the sheets, you did everything but let him know what you were beginning to feel.

His hand slithered down between your legs and he danced delicate motions against your clit. You shook with a whimper the fire shooting down your body, your toes curling with it. "Cum around my cock." He whispered his thrust slow and deep letting you feel every thick inch of him. Your back was arching, the feeling tightening in your stomach, and a throaty groan slipped out. "It feels good doesn't it? You like that I fucked you, wanted me to fuck you all through that stupid dinner, you were so wet knowing it was always going to be me at the end of the night.” He began to move faster again, his hand working your clit harder and you squeezed your eyes tight. “This pussy has always belonged to me; it will always be mine.” He slapped you across the face head snapping to the side fucking into you, pressing against your clit. “Look at me.” He growled, forcing your face towards him as your eyes shot open, "Look at me when you cum.”

You gripped him hard body shaking with the orgasm that rocked through, your vision blurry with blue eyes. Your body clamped down around him, gushed around him as it crashed over you and pulled you under. He was hovering over you tucking his arm under your shoulder his mouth at your ear his grunts seeming to drive your legs further apart for him, wetness sucking him in more. You were whimpering his name against his moist throat, open mouthed kisses planted after each breath as you squeezed around him. His body tightened and he spilled inside of you, you should have stopped him, told him not to cum inside, but he would have done it anyways. He lay there for a moment only thrusting a little to push his seed deeper.

He pulled back slightly as you blinked up at him. You stared at each other for a while as his cock twitched one last time. Then he pulled out of you and climbed off the bed. "Don't move." He left you there, closing the door behind him. You felt dizzy with confusing feelings, legs shaking, his cum oozing out of you. You fought the sickening urge to push it back inside you to not feel so empty.

But you laid there, waiting for him to come back to you. He did. He sat you up and pulled the white satin nightgown over your head only to lay you back down. Thank him, even when you're not thankful. "Thank you Mr. President sir."

He laid down beside you, wrapped his arms around your body, and pulled you in tight so you couldn't let go. "Mhm," He purred in you ear. "So good to me, my darling bluebell."

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms.

You were moving, pushed and pulled like a soft tide, knew pleasure floated through your bones ebbing, flowing out of you. You rolled your head, feeling your leg lifted, feeling pressure between them. Your eyelids were so heavy, sleep trying to tug you back under but it was so warm, it felt so good.

You heard the whine leave your mouth as warmth surrounded you, as it moved between your legs. Your eyes shot open wildly staring out into the darkness truly unsure of reality. You glance down, not being able to see all that well, but its him. You know its him by how your body arches for him, as hands find his hair. His tongue rolls over your clit, flicking at it as you whimper out for him pulling your legs up and out so he can take more of you.

A dream then, you figured, as his tongue dipped inside you. You open your mouth to try to warn him of his own cum leaking out of you, but he doesn't care as he feast on you, lapping it up along with your arousal, his tongue so deep inside you, you sigh out while he fucks you with his tongue yanking your legs tighter around his shoulders. He's licking up the center sucking gently on your clit, his tongue tracing it as a faster pace and your head falls back. You barely even make a sound as you cum, as you gush against his face pussy clenching around nothing.

He's moving, the bed shifts as he moves closer rolling your body to the side forcing into you, sliding in to the hilt as your body demands him to fill you. He's somehow all around, engulfing you, his thick cock pushing in deeply as his teeth dig into your skin. You mumbled his name trying to turn. He had your body twisted so he could shove inside you, his face moving to lavish your breast.

"Go back to sleep," He muttered kissing your side, his cock sliding within you at a gentle pace, like he had all the time in the world, like he had hours. He lazily licked at your nipple, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it softly, grazing it with his teeth. A quiet whine floated into the air your head falling back against the pillow. You were too drowsy, too spent to feel anything other than what he was giving you, so your mind gave up fighting your body. Letting him open you up more, feel him envelope you as he rolled his hips against you like you were the whore he had called you earlier. "That's my girl," He muttered onto your skin, teeth ghosting over your flesh. His cock was rubbing against a sweet spot inside of you as you turned towards him your lips parting against his face, back arching to take him deeper. It was slow, purposeful, each thrust lighting a low burning fire in your veins. You let him kiss your neck, let him suck on your flesh, his presence intoxicating you, soon finding your hand tangled in his hair.

And then he looked down at you, noses touching in the dark, and maybe it was the proximity, but you could see his eyes. You brushed your lips against his, "Yours." It slipped out between the heated exchanged and sealed in your fate.

His eyes blew out and he leaned down to kiss you. You can smell yourself on his breath, smell his cum mixed in it all and you want it in your mouth, the taste of him too delicious. You finally kissed him back, running your tongue along his mouth tasting him, tasting the whiskey he had drank earlier, your arousal and his cum, the sweat on his top lip. His hand slithered down your body, languidly rubbing your clit the pleasure tingling down your legs. You moaned in his mouth, moaned his name into the air as he fucked you deeper, fucked you harder, claimed whatever pieces of you he wanted. "Mine." He grunted out back down your throat. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

You came hard, whimpering against him, fisting his hair, feeling him cum deep inside not long after. You didn't care this time, didn't mind the heavy warmth that coated your walls. Not as it filled some void he had carved out earlier.

You fall back asleep with him still inside you, like you had never woken up in the first place.

You woke up alone, body sore and spread out across his king sized bed sheets, blankets rumpled and draped over you. Everything ached, your hips and thighs, your neck and shoulders, your breast...your...your...You squeezed your eyes remembering, remembering how his cock had broke through you, how he hadn't stopped after the first time, but took you time and time again during the night until you were more full of him than yourself. He was never satiated, an inherent hunger prowling under his skin demanding to consume every piece of you.

And you had kissed him. You had whined out for him, held him closer, sighed his name like a prayer. You forced yourself up running hands over your face trying to erase the memory, trying to erase how well your body took him. You threw the sheets off shakily climbing off the bed the nightgown falling on your tacky middle thigh, and then you turned to glance at the bed.

You threw up onto the floor.

The bed, white sheets and all were covered in blood. You looked down. Your legs were covered in blood, and dried cum, and other fluids. You had rolled every time he took you, as he changed the positions he wanted you in, smearing all that blood across the bed, across your body.

He had plucked it from you, seed after seed, and left you in his bed like a half-eaten pomegranate waiting for him to resume feasting. He had been born hungry, he will always be hungry.

You left his room. You padded away from it bare, sticky feet slapping against the hardwood floor as you kept walking. Your brain felt empty thoughts not making sense. His bedroom looked like a crime scene; you lying in, the sacrificial lamb at a slaughter.

You hated him.

He was awful, he had forced you into those games to kill, to die, to punish the districts. He had planned to sell you.

He didn't. He hadn't. And now blood ran from your maidenhead, a fountain for his youth, and all you could remember was how good it had felt, how he had fit inside you so perfectly it had never really hurt in the first place. Or maybe history had rewritten itself across the cosmos.

Fresh air hit you as you flung open the doors, sun blinding your face so you simply kept your eyes close letting whatever force commanding you to lead you, until the scent of roses floated into your nostrils.

The garden. The enormous ugly place filled to the brim with ugly white roses. It felt too pure, too clean to be here, like you had invaded Eden and the snake slithered between your thighs. You just stood there staring at a row of blooming flowers letting the horrid smell engulf you.

You couldn't help but think of him, his hair falling out of place, bouncing off his forehead as he thrust into you. You thought of the sweat dripping off his face, plopping onto your parted lips, you despised how good it tasted when it trickled onto your tongue. You thought of the heat in your cheeks when he whispered sweet, vulgar nothings into your ear, how it made you curl your toes.

You thought of how despite your hatred and disgust at him you moaned for him nonetheless.

The flowers didn't smell so awful anymore.

Time passed, you let it, standing there in a thin bloody nightgown and bare feet.

The door creaked open finally and shut behind him. You knew it was him from the shiver that danced down your spine, to the nauseating flip of your stomach as if your subconscious was glad he was there, as if it desired his presence.

A large hand brushed down your arm, "You should stay in bed." You focused on the light splitting through the windows golden and beautiful as he moved your matted hair off your shoulder to press a kiss to bare skin. You winced, the bruises and bites too tender. "Come now, bluebell." He smiled against your neck, "Let me take you back to bed."

"You were gone." It shouldn't have sounded so desperate, so whiny, like you genuinely wanted him there.

He chuckled, "I'm the President sweet girl. I can't be expected to lie in bed fucking you all day."

You were next to your father a large smile on your face as you watched them announced young President Snow. You had gathered in the square to watch it with the rest of your community. They spoke about how the districts were going to do so much better under his authority, how both the districts and Capitol would profit significantly with him taking over. You remember your father being hopeful, maybe a young man like him would bring good change.

"Is that what you wanted?" He planted the kiss under your ear goosebumps erupting over cool flesh. "To wake up again with my cock buried inside of you." He nipped at the shell of your ear, "Or feasting on your cunt." His hardness was pressing into the thin fabric of your nightgown as your body went taut in his arms.

You turned to face him. His eyes were so bright as the sun reflected off of them, and you held back the automatic yes on your tongue. Your gaze flickered around his face trying to read him, understand him even, but it was impossible. He was the President, and you were a victor, and those worlds should have never collided. Yet here you both were creating a black hole in the universe at your entwining.

He moved for you slowly.

You felt frozen feeling him wrap his arm around your body to begin walking back towards the house, numb as servants open the doors for the two of you so he could lead you back to your cage. It wasn't for concern or safety, he would tie you to his bed simply to know you would always be there.

The room had been cleaned by time you reached it, no evidence in sight, besides the blood and cum caked onto your thighs. He tugged at you walking you to the bathing room connected to his, "You scared the servants." He chuckled as he went to the tub and turned it on.

"I'm sorry." It slipped out, a trained response and your eyes fluttered close.

He filled the water with sweet smelling salts and came back towards you tugging your nightgown off your body. You glanced in the mirror at the red hand prints stained into the flesh of your breasts, your neck. You were more wounds than skin, littered with teeth indents, scratches, hickies. "Come here." You did, as steam began to replace the image. You let him help you into the warm water and sank down into it, biting back the sound of pleasure as it soothed every piece of you that was broken and sore. He leaned your head back dipping your tangled hair into the water. "Mhm," He mused sliding his hands along your wet body claiming he was wanting to wash you.

"It feels nice." You whispered his forehead pressed to your shoulder as his hands traveled along your stomach. It shouldn't feel nice, but it did, his gentle hands swimming across your sensitive body.

He didn't respond, but he let go and stood, the sounds of his clothing dropping echoing in the room. You jumped at the sound hoping he wouldn't take you in this tub, praying to whatever god you believed in, and you thought it sounded too close to his name. You knew your body was too sore to handle it, knew you would melt into his palms if he did. He climbed in behind you, his legs sliding along yours, his chest pressed to your back wet hair plastered between bodies. "You enjoyed last night." His hands floated over your legs removing the last remaining evidence of the encounter. You weren't sure if he was asking or telling. His lips ghosted over your shoulders.

"Why me?" You blinked out a tear.

His smile scorched your skin. "You were so pretty when you cried at the reaping." Another tear as you took a sharp breath, all of this because of your pain. It didn't seem like a good enough response for you, there had to me more of a reason why he took it this far. His mouth parted, "I starved him out, sent all his gifts to you, so when I did send something in, something to weaken him, he would eat it." It shouldn't have been so easy to take him down, you always knew that, chalked it up to luck or the element of surprise. The only thing he had managed to do was slice your leg open the scar still plagued on your skin. He did look sickly before his own blood coated his face. Maybe he had been begging to end his life, maybe whatever they gave him was hurting.

Please.

Your vision was blurry, eyes darting back and forth. "You helped me win."

"I saved you, bluebell." He caressed a hand down the center of your chest, where you had plunged that knife, and another tear slipped out. "You should be glad." A thumb stroke, "You should be grateful."

"He's possessive. His obsession can drive him mad sometimes."

It all made sense now in your head. He felt like he was owed something. He went through all of that hard-work to make you win, all that trouble to ensure you walked out alive so he could get his prize...you. You belonged to him, owed him a life debt, and the only way to repay his generosity was handing over every piece he wanted.

You could only stare at the faucet ahead of you as water dripped off into the tub.

Plop, plop.

His hand stilled, "Aren't you going to thank me?" You racked your brain for the answer unsure of what you were supposed to respond with.

Plop, plop.

"Thank you Mr. President, sir." Was the safest option out of your lips, but his body was tense behind you.

Plop, plop.

"For?"

You closed your eyes a slight shake of your head wondering what he possible wanted from you. Your eyes slid back open. He wanted the validation, he wanted gratitude. "For saving me, for making me feel good."

Snow relaxed, a kiss pressed to your shoulder. He was running his hands through tendrils of wet hair his hand slinking between your legs. You stiffened, hand shooting to his wrist to stop him, "What's the matter bluebell?" He whispered in your ear shaking your hand off like it was nothing. "Isn't this what you wanted?" He brushed down your folds as you whimpered for him, "Why you made me leave work early to bring you back to bed?" You felt his pouting lips against your back making a mockery of you, "Why you were so sad I was gone this morning?"

His fingers found your clit rubbing small, slow circles, "It hurts." It didn't, but you were worried if he went further it would, or perhaps it wouldn't and you would wind up screaming his name against the ceramic tub. Both were terrifying.

"I know." He pressed a little harder listening to the whine ricocheting against the walls of the room. "You can take it." You spread your legs for him joints aching at the stretch as your fingers dug into his thighs feeling him rub circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. "That's my girl." He cooed teeth grazing a tender bruise, and instead of a wince, a moan came out of your mouth. You were leaning into the pain he offered as the fire burned in your core. You closed your eyes fighting the pleasure and desire rippling through every part of you, you wished your body wouldn't burn for him, yet here you were, mouth agape, a mewling mess for him.

Then you did something completely insane and reached between you to run your hand along his hard cock. At first, it was a soft hand down his cock and then you were pumping his length, hearing him release a groan into your skin and you only worked him harder, swirling your hand around him, lightly grazing his balls each time you slid to the base.

"Do you want to fuck me?" He rasped moving his hips with your hand as he brought you closer to your peak.

"Yes." No hesitation. You blamed the rot in your soul.

His hand pressed down harder and you cried out black forming behind your eyes, "Say it." He gritted out.

"I want...to fuck you." A light pinch to your clit making you yelp. "Mr. President sir!"

His hands left your body as he lifted them up allowing free reign to move if you chose to. You sat there for a moment contemplating the decision, then slowly turned to face him. You weren't sure if it was bath water or sweat but his face was misted eyes glazed over, hair disheveled, curling slightly at the ends. He looked younger, he looked like that man you had seen sworn in on stage years ago. You were on your knees between his legs climbing over him, letting his hands find your waist as you shook against him.

There was no going back from this.

You lined him up and sank down. You went slowly this time, letting him stretch you open, letting the sweet thickness of him take you. At some point he had pressed you to his chest, or maybe you had moved, but your teeth were in his shoulder, biting as pain and pleasure melded. "You're so fucking tight." His hands were wrapped around you, gripping you tightly, as you sank down to the hilt moaning out at the delicious feeling of fullness. You clenched around him hearing him hiss fingers digging into your back as they tried to move back down to your hips. You were afraid to move, afraid to take him like this, but you needed more.

So, you rolled your hips against him. He took a sharp intake of breath, fingers pressing in your hips beginning to help your movements, help you grind your pussy onto his cock. You began to pull back, away from him, but he sat up more, gripping the edge of the tub to keep your pace, while his other hand went to your neck forcing your lips on his. It was an open mouth kiss as you whimpered onto his tongue feeling him everywhere. You let him nip at your lip as you licked the roof of his mouth, along his top teeth hands tangling through his hair as you slid up and down on his cock. You clit was grinding against him as your body sucked him in deep pressing in that sweet spot and you knew you were close.

You let your head fall back blind pleasure taking over as you rode him. "Feels good right?" He asked mouth traveling down to sweep across your heavy breast, taking your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue along it. "I make you feel so good hmm?" He mused sucking gently on it. "Treat you so nice." He grabbed the back of your neck forcing your forward once more until your forehead was pressed against his, "So good to you?"

"Yes." You sighed the fire in your core rippling through you ready to explode as water sloshed out of the tub. He began to fuck up into you the new speed sending you over the edge as your body shook in his arms. His hips stuttered and he was spilling inside you with a rough groan. You stayed like that for a moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing each others air.

He smirked at you, "Greedy, greedy girl." He forced you down on his chest as his cock twitch one last time inside you. "Can't get enough can you?"

You couldn't find the words to respond, too dazed to comprehend anything. The ache began to return between your legs, but you were too afraid to move until he let you. He did after a while, and then he cleaned you again, got you out of the tub to dry off and put a new nightgown on.

Soon enough you found yourself sprawled out on his lap as he combed your hair. You glanced up at him, at the concentration in his face, at the stray curls hanging onto his forehead. You brushed them away with your fingers his eyes meeting yours.

He had told you to be more grateful, so you were.

"Thank you Mr. President, sir."

A week had passed and you were sure you were going insane.

He fucked you the moment you opened your eyes, then he would leave for work, only to come back and fuck you through the night. He dressed you in the morning (usually something that allowed him easy access), he had your meals brought up to his room, cleaned you up every evening, and sometimes even permitted you to walk down the hall to the small study he had, to allow you some entertainment of reading.

You couldn't speak to anyone (not that they could respond), you couldn't watch the news, you had no idea what was going on out in the world. Were your parents worried? Did they think you were coming home soon? Were you ever going home?

You picked at your dinner.

Something had changed within you.

Your stomach panged close to the times food was set to be delivered. You began to chew at the skin around your nails with anxiety until someone came through the door, mostly waiting for him. And when he came in, still in his Presidential clothing, you felt wetness seep between your legs. You weren't sure why it was happening or when it had started, but your subconscious had taken over, your body responding in ways you could never control. He had trained it somehow to follow his schedule, to respond to him, and it was working.

You took him greedily each time; ravenous for him, for his mouth on you, his cock inside you. You would wrap your legs around him so tight to pull him closer, mouth on his jaw, breathing the air he gave you, sweat glistening off feverish skin, savoring the warmth of his cum inside you.

You hated him, but you hated yourself more for how much you were beginning to not hate him. He had saved your life, prevented that man from assaulting you, he fed you and washed you, kept you safe and provided for.

But you were locked in a cage; his cage, and you never could see beyond the bars of your inclosure. You stared longingly out the window, pressed your ears to the floorboards just to see, to hear something.

You needed to leave, you needed your sanity back.

He came through the door at his normal time wetness pooling between your thighs. He shrugged off his jacket setting it on the back of the chair and sat down across from you. "How was work?" You asked. So ordinary.

"Dull." He sighed his body sprawled out, his hands across his stomach as he stared at you. "Come here." You were on your feet padding over to him to sit on his lap his cool hand snaking around your waist, "Kiss me." You leaned down and pressed your lips to his feeling the quick sweep of his tongue and you opened your mouth for him. He straightened up pulling you down with a hand on your chin his tongue gently melding with yours. You whimpered into his mouth as his hand came off your face and between your legs. He smirked in your mouth, "Wet for me already?" He nipped at your lip, "I'll never tire of coming home to your soaked pussy."

You body tightened, "Mr. President, sir." You pulled back slightly just as his hands brushed along your folds. You squeezed your eyes trying to remember what you needed to say.

His eyes were studying you intensely. "What is it?"

Don't stutter. "Are you truly going to keep me here forever?"

He stared at you for a second his hand resting on your backside, the other still between your legs. "Isn't that what you wanted?" He began to laugh. "I thought you'd be happier here."

Ice rippled through your skin; he was never planning to let you go. You cleared your throat trying to remain calm. Your eyes flickered around his face. "You're the President, surly you need a Capitol woman for a wife, and it would be bad news if this situation ever got out."

"It won't get out." His hand gripped you a little harder like you would fly away.

"Please," your bottom lip wobbled. "Please let me go. You will tire of me soon enough." Part of you ached at the idea of it, of leaving, but you shoved that lunacy down.

His blue eyes were dark. "No I won't. You belong here, in that bed, drenched the minute I step in the door. You belong to me." His hand squeezed your cheeks moisture spilling across your jaw. "You are mine."

You sighed water welling in your eyes, "You're right." You nodded leaning forward to capture his lips. "I'm sorry." You kissed him again hand reaching behind you. "I'll stay." You lied as your hand wrapped around the plastic fork.

Because why would the give a victor real utensils.

Then you sank it into his hand resting on your ass. You heard him yelp as plastic snapped off, but your didn't stay to see if it drew blood as you ran out of the bedroom. He roared your name. You were sprinting down the hall almost to the stairs when you heard him stomping after you. Guards were rushing up so you turned heading to the upper level of the mansion. You felt like you were in the games all over again, running from them, lungs burning as you took two stairs at a time.

If all else fails you would fling your body out of the window hoping the ground would kill you before he did. You weren't even really sure if he would kill you, or just tie you to the bed like you knew he really wanted. Your freedom had always been an illusion.

You hit the end of the hall when you heard him breathing heavy from the other end. You dared a glance at him blood dripping off of the back of his hand, calm fury on his face. You went to the nearest door fighting with the locked handle to let you in as you heard him come closer. You were sobbing as you tried another door realizing you were trapped in this hall with him, like he had always prepared for something like this to happen.

His hands wrapped around your body, "Nowhere to go now bluebell."

"Stop calling me that!" You cried out thrashing against him.

He gritted his teeth, "Now I'm going to take you back to my room, and you are going to stay there."

You bucked against him. "No! Let me go!"

He flipped you around, hand on your throat, and slammed you into the wall. "What is so wrong with that? Why do you want to leave me so badly after everything I've done for you?" He snarled, eyes wild, "Haven't I been good to you!" You clawed at his arm your feet rising off the ground as he choked you. You stared wide eyed at him, gaping for air that was never coming. You figured it would be okay to die here, knew it was always coming the closer you had gotten to him, and somewhere deep down it made you sad.

"I...loved you." You choked out feeling his hand suddenly pull from you like it had branded him. You held your hand at your throat as he stared down at you, as you tried to catch your breath. "I watched you sworn in as President, and everyone was so hopeful, and I loved you for it. I worshipped you, adored you for that hope, that you might bring change."

You glanced up at him breathing heavily like he had been the one with a hand crushing his esophagus. "When did it stop?"

"When my name got called at the reaping."

He slapped you across the face the skin on your lip breaking as you fell sideways knocking a flower vase to the ground with you. It shattered into pieces, white roses sprawling across the floor with you. "Is that why you take me so well." He spoke from above you. His foot slammed down on your back face banging off the hard wood, "Did you imagine me when you used to touch yourself back in your hovel?" You only glared back at him behind a curtain of hair, blood spilling from your nose. He laughed, "You did." His smile fell, "I've given you everything you ever wanted. I saved you. I spoiled you, and this is how you repay me. So ungrateful."

"I hate you." You spat at him.

The corners of his mouth quirked up. "Hate burns hotter than love."

You screamed as your hand wrapped around a shard of glass and you swiped at him blood dripping from how hard you gripped it. He jumped back but it slashed his perfect cheek. You swiped at him again this time drawing blood from his hand as he held it up to protect himself. That boy's face from 2 flashed in your mind, his poor sick face and you pounced on him straddling his body pressing the jagged edge to his throat.

"Sir?" You knew guns were pointing at you, heard the tap of his fingers on the trigger with each thump of your heart beat. You stopped caring.

He held up a hand, eyes never leaving your face, "It's alright."

You watched your own blood trickle onto his face. Your lip curled back as you pressed harder into his pale soft fresh, but he wasn't scared. He just stared at you.

He knew you wouldn't do it.

So you yanked back and held it to your own throat warm blood leaking down your chest. He rubbed his hands up your legs splaying his fingers across skin. His eyes, gods his eyes, were so calm, so dark and full of desire like he enjoyed the chase, enjoyed watching you bleed and claw for him. The glass clattered to the floor in limp arms feeling his cock straining beneath you, and you...you were aching for it.

Your eyes wobbled as tears fell, "What did you do to me?" Because something had fundamentally changed you, he had fundamentally changed you to crave him this way, rewired you to need him this way. There was no other explanation to describe what coursed through you.

He only stared up at you the slow smirk spreading across his lips. "What did you do to me!" You roared at him needing the answer, needing to know why you could hate him so much, despise him, and need him so desperately.

"I showed you who you are." His hands traveled to rest across your backside. Yours. You remember his nose pressed to yours as you brushed the word against his mouth. You wanted to feel regret at the intimate word you let slip out the first night he took you.

You hated that you had whispered it, hated that you knew it was true simply by the way your hips rolled against his. You ached for him, you wanted him to fill you again, empty at the lack of his commanding presence inside of you. You hated that he had turned you into a whimpering mess starving for his pleasure.

His inherent hunger was contagious and he had made you starving.

He sat up pulling you flush against his body. "I see you." He was so close. "You never needed to plunge that knife into his heart three times. The first had hit home, and he was dying anyways." Hot breath fanned onto your blood streaked face. "I've always seen you for who you are."

Your parted bruised lips brushed his, teeth grazing, tongue darting out in an upward motion to lick into his mouth. Heat pooled in your core as you felt his cock twitch beneath you.

"The victor."

Your hands were rooted in his hair as you crushed your mouths together, it was messy and intoxicating as you consumed him. A battle of teeth and tongue, spit spilling between you both as you refused to come up for air. You pushed him to the ground, tongue down his throat, and a hand down his pants breaking the buttons open to free his cock. He was leaking from the tip and you smeared it down his cock pumping him with your hand as you lined him up with your soaking entrance.

Moaning into his mouth, you sank down onto him until nothing separated your bodies. Your open mouth rested against his parted lips breathing the same air and then you were moving, moving your hips, moving your mouth to taste his jawline, digging your teeth into his neck feeling the metallic taste of his blood rush into your mouth. You rode him harder, foot planted on the ground to move against him better, took back all the blood he had stolen from you. You wanted to rip his throat out, taste his pain, lap him up like nectar until the two of you were nothing but naked muscle. He scratched at your body, shredding open the blood stained pretty white dress he had put you in. You returned the favor, tearing open his shirt, buttons flying across the hall.

It was animalistic, it was primal starvation.

You wanted to feast on him, consume him like he had consumed you. He had carved out a home for himself inside of you and now you wanted to bury yourself in his flesh.

You leaned up his blood running down your chin as you glided your pussy against his cock, clit rubbing along his body. "There she is." He hooked his hand into your mouth and you wrapped your hand around his wrist to suck in his fingers, tasting your mess along them. You would never be full of him. He ripped them away from you smearing the trail of blood down your naked chest. "Go on, make yourself cum on my cock like the little whore you are." You squeezed your eyes feeling that overwhelming feeling creeping up your spine raking your nails down his chest. It feels too good, his cock hitting every right spot, his blood in your teeth, his hand pinching at your nipples. His nails are digging into your hips as he thrust his hips up to meet yours, to fuck you deeper. Your body shakes with the orgasm when it ripples through you, pussy clenching around him moaning out into the open air for him.

And then he's pushing you back, flipping you onto the ground broken glass splintering into your chest. You don't care. You'd bleed for him ten times over, you'd kill that boy every chance you got if it meant Coriolanus Snow would live inside you. He's pulling your hips up until your on all fours and then he slams into you. You cry out, grasping for nothing the force of him shoving your body forward. He yanks you back only to continue fucking you at a brutal pace, rutting into you like a ruthless animal. "You like when I fuck you like the bitch you are hmm?" His hips snap against yours as fingers dig into the flesh of your ass. "You want me to breed you too hmm? My prized little rose," Your nails scratch against wood splintering off as his dick hits your g-spot. "Want to give me little heirs don't you?" He tangles a fist in your hair arching you up, letting your pussy suck him in deeper, "Say it! Say you want my cum you greedy girl."

"Yes." You whimpered. "I want it. Please Coriolanus. I need it."

He wraps a hand around your throat pulling your back up against his chest to thrust up into you, "You're mine, do you understand that. You're never leaving me." He abuses your cervix hand gently squeezing your carotid. "You belong to me." He nips at your ear, "To do whatever I want, whenever I want. Forever."

And that doesn't sound so bad after all.

Your vision goes fuzzy as his hand slides off your neck and in-between your legs rubbing furiously into your clit. "Yours." You whine, hands reaching behind you to grip his hair. He's kissing your neck, sucking and biting at the wound you gave yourself. You're so foolish for running, for wanting to leave this, it was too good to ever leave. He was right; he had spoiled you rotten. He's grunting hot and heavy in your ear, lights dance behind your eyes as you feel his pace pick up, his fingers swirling your bundle of nerves rhythmically.

You're screaming his name to the heavens as your body goes over its peak.

You hate him, gods you hate him. You don't think you could ever stop hating him. But when his cum spills into you as you clamp down around his cock, you think you might worship him.

He drops your shaking, messy body to the hardwood floor as he thrust slowly into you, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, keeping every drop inside. His hand is still rubbing your clit, fucking you into overstimulation and you whine in protest, but he holds you still.

"Shh," He whispered gently, petting your head and you stop fighting him. "Such a good girl." You push your hips back, arching for him more. "My pretty girl." Your arousal drips down your leg, onto the floor as he leans down and kisses your spine. "Come on give me one more." You couldn't stop it if you tried as he pressed a little harder, softening cock twitching against a sensitive spot, his cum still warm inside you. His thumb rolled over your nipple, tugging and playing with the bud and when it was taut and throbbing he moved to the other one. It was overwhelming, feeling him everywhere like he was stuck under your skin. Your thighs were shaking, but he's holding you up as nails scratch against wood until they chipped.

The pressure dragged you under and you threw your head back your climax exploding around you as you came one more time. You could barely move, barely see straight, only slightly feeling him take his hand off your clit, only slightly feeling his cock start to harden again inside you.

He flips you over onto your back as you gaze up at him in a daze. His mouth is on your breast lazily running his tongue along your sensitive nipple. You mewl for him.

"Are you going to run away again?" He asked. You shake your head. His nose began to drag up your neck until it was pressing into yours. "Are you going to be ungrateful again?" You shake your head. His mouth lingered at your ear, "Are you happier here?"

He straightened up to stare down at you, stare down to where his cock slowly begins to thrust in and out of you again, stare down as you open for him more, stare down as maroon stains your chin, your chest, as your mouth parts his blood coating your teeth.

"Yes Mr. President, sir."

He smiled down at you.

He told you he was getting married with his tongue between your thighs, gave you all the reasons he couldn't marry you. You were district after all, and he was the President. You didn't really listen as you orgasmed against his face.

He married Livia Cardew a few months later.

You weren't allowed at the wedding.

"You understand don't you bluebell?" He stroked your cheek as he got himself dressed taking in the sight of you lying naked on his bed cum leaking from your cunt.

She didn't know about you, you had figured that out on their wedding night when she had barged into his room, demanding to know why he wasn't spending it with her, screaming at the sight of him pile driving into you on his bed.

He made her sit and watch. He forced her into a chair as he took you over and over again, as you screamed her husband's name as he made you cum, as he spilled inside of you making her stare horrified when he took his fingers and shoved every spilled drop back inside you.

She tried to leave then, realizing the situation at hand, but he threatened to cut out her tongue before she left or he could string her corpse above his mansion door...whatever she chose.

She stayed.

You knew sometimes she would listen, listen to how he would fuck you into the long hours of the night, how you cried his name as you rode him. How you begged him to fuck you again once he had finished. You knew she hated seeing you next to him at the dinner table knowing her husband's cum was leaking between your thighs, that your teeth were the ones marking his skin.

He implanted you with birth control, you figured it would happen. You knew he couldn't have children with you, couldn't have district blood tainting the presidency line despite his want to breed your obedience into his children. Only on some occasions when he fucked you, he had to finish into a cup to bring to the doctor to artificially get Livia pregnant. He brought you beautiful roses every time he had to do it.

And once a year, he got to parade you on his arm for the annual hunger games. He loved watching you tuck into him to get away from lusting men, loved fucking you in the bathroom when the speeches were done. You didn't care if anyone could hear you, if Mags was disgusted by you.

You didn't care anymore. Not about Livia, not about how much you didn't hate him anymore, not about the games, not about your sad garden wilting away in District 6.

Coriolanus let you tend to his pretty, sweet smelling white roses.

You were a victor, his victor.

So, when you glanced over at him in the middle of the night, sleeping, moonlight spilling onto his peaceful features and you thought about slitting his throat, you decided to climb on top of him. You reached under the blankets, pumped his cock until it was hard and sank down onto him, fucking him awake.

"Such a good girl." He would kiss your cheek as his cum coated your walls.

"Thank you Mr. President, sir."

THE END

endnotes: ((this was supposed to be so much darker but god said 'no girl dont do that' lmao)) OMG IM SO SAD THIS IS OVER!! thank u so much for sticking with me and reading and all the kind words!!

divider credit: @rookthornesartistry

tags: @wearemadeofstardust0 , @astarborntowrite , @genderfluid-anime-goth , @merlieve , @darktrashsoulbear , @euphemiaamillais , @dousyskid , @bunny24sstuff , @bloobewy , @tmblrsexyw0man , @italiekim , @anthgoldenhrry , @becauseseaotters bold is tumblr wouldn't let me tag

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coryo x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #fanfic #hunger games #president snow #president snow x reader #coryo smut #coryo snow

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

Woven from the same thread

[Part 2] [Masterlist]

Summary: Coriolanus Snow hungers for control, what will happen when he gives up it up for his own good? What will happen when he finaly meets his match?

Pairing: Sub!Coriolanus Snow x Dom!reader

Warnings: gaslight, gatekeeper, girl boss; dumbification; Coriolanus Snow, mentioned of death and bombings, manipulations.

A/N: purely an excuse to write for submissive Coriolanus. I love me a controlling obsessive man, but I love him more on his knees crying.

Coriolanus Snow who decided getting a cute rich girlfriend would help him in life. He wouldn't love her, he'd discard her immediately the moment he managed to get into university with the plinth prize or if he simply found someone better.

Coriolanus Snow who saw you and your sweet smile and charming innocent eyes and decided that you were going to be his personal piggy bank.

Coriolanus Snow who tries charming you with pretty words and gentlemanly actions, providing as much as he can muster with his unexistable budget. An occasional white rose or a pretty origami would be thrown your way, but that's as far as he could afford to go.

Coriolanus Snow who realizes too late you are a snake like him.

Coriolanus Snow who gapes in horror at you in your lavish room at your parent's penthouse after you reveal it all to him. Telling him how you saw his thinning frame and hollow cheeks, the acidy breath from hunger and the lack of presents or money spent on you had given him away. It was all a hypothesis but his reacting confirmed it.

Coriolanus Snow who is frozen in place, his deepest fear of getting closer to someone and having them find out of his poverty hidden in plain sight made his pale skin loose all semblence of color.

Coriolanus Snow who is on the verge of dropping on his knees and begging(he should) but you run a hand along his jaw and propose a deal. He is the smartest boy in the Academy, presentable and well mannered, he will continue to be your boyfriend and you will keep your mouth shut and wallet open for him as long as he plays by your whistle. It was left unspoken that if he stepped out of line you would air his dirty laundry with no hesitation.

Coriolanus Snow who becomes your personal dog, no matter how much he hates it. You wrote him a check to buy his family some food and pay his rent, as a starting sum, with one of your credit cards.

Having a pretty smart boyfriend was a dream come true for you. Having said boy and holding an unimaginable power over his every move was all you ever wanted. You and him shared the same poison, the same thirst for power, you knew that. But he hadn't, and that is what brought him to his demise.

He lost the battle. He lost the war.

Coriolanus Snow who does all the stereotypical "perfect boyfriend" things. He carries your books, opens the doors for you, pulls your chair out, kisses your forehead sweetly and holds your hand. He was perfect, at performing in public at least. Behind closed doors he still had his bite, no matter how good he could act his ego got the best of him.

You would break him soon enough

You started it small.

Phase 1:

Giving him small commands first in public, where he couldn't let his bravado fall. Telling him to wait for you, to not move, to lift that, do that, etc. Later you did it when there were people of your age or older around. Clearly showing off the power you had over Coriolanus, he had to obey you, his families apartment depended on it. He wanted to snap and not do it, to show he is in fact his own master, but how will he explain to granma' am and Tigris that they had to live on the street because his girlfriend/sugar mommy was too bossy?

Coriolanus Snow who was left to marinate in his own embarrassment in silence, feeling all eyes on him as people's perception of him change. From a proud heir to one of the most important business for the Capitol to a lovesick boyfriend who was his girlfriends servant, with a smile on his face worst of all. He was starting to get used to it. This had been going on for months now, the habit was starting to get rooted deeply.

Phase 2:

It was still a small jump but you started to give him shorter orders, one word commands, expecting him to know what to do- and he did. You'd say "open" and any door would be trust wide open and held for you. You'd say "hold" and thrust whatever you are holding to him without a spare glance. Maybe in the past he would have thrown the expensive purse or books while looking you dead in the eyes like a statement but now he simply waited for you patiently.

Coriolanus Snow who actually threw your books in a fit of rage once and ended up penniless for a month. He had to come to your house timidly after receiving no calls on the private phone you had bought him and no reply as he blew up your line.(he could only call your number and couldn't add or remove it. who else did he need to contact?)

Coriolanus who had to face greater humiliation than what he was used to, as he walked across the private party thrown by your parents, looking for you. The pitiful looks he got wobbling around in his academy uniform, even outside school as he asked around for you. People must have seen him as a kicked puppy, looking for his owner. It wasn't completely false.

Coriolanus Snow who found you in a secret room pointed to him by your mother who had cooed at him pitifully, used to seeing him waddle after you almost daily. You were sitting on large chair behind a wooden desk, looking over some documents. Your gaze snapped to him as he entereed, the faint yellow light from the lamp illuminated his face and made the miserable look in his eyes and blush in his cheeks ever more evident.

He had gotten to eat so good, first class meals, you'd even send a private chef over to his house to cook for him when he was especially good. He had gotten greedy and now going back to slurping bean juice felt unimaginable.

"Your rent is looking ever the higher. Its not looking good."

He hadn't(didnt) want to think about this as he slept on a cold matress, their heating had run out. He missed the taste of luxury. He would do anything to get it back.

"I made a mistake, y/n."

He knew he should do more. He knew you'd like to see him beg and squirm but he didn't think he could handle any more of this if he did. He had felt so much pressure, so such stress to find some food, to worry about rent, to hide the eyebags under his eyes, the humiliation from tonight was almost too much.

"Come here, Coriolanus."

Your voice rang out cold and commanding, but never demanding. You had too much power over him to demand. You pulled the chair back and it's wheels creaked, you put a hand on your thigh in a wordless command. Coriolanus wobbled a bit shakily, trying to maintain some form of dignity as he walked to you. He came to a halt between your legs, looking down at you and creating a shadow over your form. It should have made him feel better, to be in one way on top, but it didn't, he couldn't delude himself anymore, he knew he had no control.

What had you done to him?

"Kneel"

It took him a few seconds but he dropped slowly to his knees, one leg at a time until he was at eyelevel with your knees, sitting on his hinges, since he knew he'd be down here for a while. He stared stubbornly into your eyes, his pale blue eyes shone almost angelically paired with his pink lips. Your pretty puppy, it almsot made you smile. It almost made you forgive him, almost.

"You disobeyed me, Coriolanus. I told you there would be consequences."

"I know, y/n, i know, i wont do it again. I promise."

"I dont believe you."

You say and pick the document you had been reviewing before. You bring them close enough so he can read them too. They were charts and documents of increasing rent money for the apartment building his penthouse was in, the wages of the workers where Tigris worked, a paper with the retirement money his grandma got, paper with the money the country gave him as a compensation since he had lost both of his parents. All the money that his family got and had to spend.

Coriolanus who skims the papers but even the breif look of the numbers told him what he already knew.

He had no future without you. The Hunger games had gotten canceled this year since the death of Felix, the presidents son, the Plinth prize had gotten withdrawn. He had nothing, he could do nothing.

"I gave you everything, Coriolanus. Was your pride worth your future?"

He feels his gaze get hazy, the panic was starting to set in. He had come here to get you back, sure that he would be able to do it, but now he could almost taste your rejection. He was starting to get scared and panicked. He needed you.

"It wasnt- it isnt. Y/n, I made a mistake, plase forgive me. I wont do it again."

He shuffles closer to you subconsciously, looking up at you as his voice grew hoarse. His pride long gone, thrown out the moment he saw the consequences. You place a soft hand on his hair, gripping it gently and he feels the golden ring on your finger, the one with your family's crest made from pure gold, rest heavily on his scalp. You tilt his face up to look at you.

"Beg. Show me how sorry you are."

His mouth opened immediately, no hesitation to beg for you. Maybe he should feel shame to be thrust into this position but all he felt was hope. If you were willing to hear him out it means there is some chance he could get you back.

"Im sorry, y/n, im so sorry. I was stupid, i was greedy, i was arrogant. I wont do it again. Im yours, please"

He hadn't realized he had started crying until his tears pooled and fell, warm and salty, against his lips and on the material of the chair, his long blond lashes clump togetger and his lips redden, the tear streaks down his cheeks and neck glisten in the light and he looks like a painting.

You decide you like him like this best, begging at your feet and crying for your love.

You coo at him sympatheticly even as a smile tugs the corners of your lips. You caress his beautiful locks of hair and wipe his tears away only to lick your fingers.

"My poor baby, no need to cry. Im here now, you remembered where you belong, its okay now, you are okay now."

His breath grows labored and his face twists in pain as more tears follow, he burries his face into the bare skin of your inner thighs and sobs loudly. All the stress had caught up with him. The responsibilities, the fear, the hunger, the thought that he'd lose his anchor, the thought he'd lose you.

Your guidance, your attention, your love. He didn't need to worry anymore, he didn't need to fret and plot to stay at the top, simply being known as your lover was enough. You were the second richest family in Panem, after the President. Coriolanus held much more power than he ever had on his own. People respected him more and he got the cushiony life he had always dreamt of.

He was safe.

His family was safe.

You let him cry, cooing calming words of reassurance as you caress the nape of his neck and the curls of his hair. His big shaky hands envelope your thighs and he holds onto them for dear life.

You knew he would come crawling back once he saw that you meant business and weren't bluffing. It had taken him longer and you respect his resilience but he had funaly come to his senses and back into your arms. A part of you felt a pang of empathy for him, for the poor boy underneath all the masks and facades he had on to survive in this world. You knew when it came down to it he would have murdered him, to remain the shell of the person he is. You don't feel bad for Snow. You felt bad for Coriolanus.

Poor, caring, driven Coriolanus, who might have been good if not for the poison and hunger and fear he had been forced to shoulder.

But you are here now, so he wouldn't have to worry anymore. He can be good. You'll make sure he is your good boy.

Phase 0:

Coriolanus is a smart boy, he probably could predict all the steps of manipulation you had come up with, what he probably hadn't anticipated were the rewards. The additional money, delicious food, new clothes, you'd even found a better job for Tigris (not good enough to pay for the rent ofc). The small touches you'd offered him and the lack of discrimination against his poverty. You'd treated him good and given him a lot.

How could a boy who's only had things taken from him begin to expect anything else? The mentality of take or lose had kept him alive this long, but maybe you wanted to give. He had shared with you in a night of vulnerabilities about his family. How his mother and unborn sister died, hiw his father died, how he was left with only his grandma and Tigris almost broke to survive.

Coriolanus had a lot of potential to be your loyalest dog or biggest enemy depending on how you let him flourish.

That's why you had bought him a phone to call only you, made him dependant only on you, talked with your parents and together you'd managed to cancel the Hunger games, throwing all the district tributes back in their homes, far far away. Especially Lucy Gray, the songbird who was on her way to charm Coriolanus. How you'd agreed the money from the plinth prize should be used on fixing the damage done by the rebelion bombings.

Coriolanus wasn't a good person.

You were simply better at being bad.

#books #movies #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #aesthetic #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #manipulation #dom femme #dom fem reader #dom female #sub male reader #sub male character #coriolanus snow x reader #mind corruption #president snow #president snow x reader #lucy grey #lucy gray baird #tbsoas #tbosbas #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #toxic love #enemies to lovers #rich #female manipulator

[milliesfishes]

Pray You Catch Me (Part 3)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, panic attack, manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader  summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 3) author’s note: this is the longest one yet. I hope it's good <3 thanks for all the love and support. If I'm planning this correctly, there'll be one more chapter in this series, so lookout for that, I'll keep you updated. Let me know which song(s) off Lemonade you want for the last chapter. I've gotten suggestions for Jolene or Daughter too, might play around with that. Love and thanks <3

Whoever said a house divided against itself cannot stand was wrong. It can, but it’s not an easy house to live in. It’s only when someone sets fire to the house that it falls.

As you avoided him the next couple of weeks, you half hoped he missed you, but decided not to give it too much thought. He didn’t deserve that. The silent treatment, although childish, weaned results in your previous experience.

The day he was supposed to meet her came and went, and you were restless for all of your waking hours. Part of you wanted to confront him, the other, more stubborn part said to leave it. You’d made your statement. If he wanted you back then he’d have to make the first move.

It was peaceful existing outside his constant gaze. Having the whole bed to yourself was nice too. You didn’t have to curate what you wore to sleep, didn’t have to constantly make sure your expressions were pleasing to him.

Although you kind of missed his warm body next to yours. His hands reaching out in the night, making you feel wanted…

No. He didn’t want you. He wanted everything. He thought he could have everything. But as long as you were distant, he couldn’t.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how to continue from here. What does one do after they confront their husband about his cheating? It wasn’t like your mother had warned you about this. So you stayed quiet and stayed away. 

As long as you were able to, at least.

There was a gala tonight, a big one, and even though you weren’t exactly on speaking terms, you knew it’d be bad for your image if you didn’t go together. It’d be the same as all these parties were, drinks and chatting mindlessly, pictures taken of you and Coriolanus together looking like the beautiful couple you pretended to be.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun with it. 

So when you descended the stairs that night in a deep burgundy dress so red it was almost black, you held back a smirk at the look on your husband’s face. He was in his red suit, that red suit, the one you’d debated stuffing a pair of your panties into the pocket of, but decided against.

The dress was silk, falling off your shoulders with a high slit up the side that wasn’t visible until you walked. Your hair was curly, in its natural state, a way you hadn’t dared wear in front of him before. It was messy, but pretty, and you felt more yourself than you had in ages.

Coriolanus’ face was even, but his eyes betrayed him. They widened slightly, and that little mark of hunger flickered in his irises, just as you’d hoped. His eyes traveled from your legs to your waist, and landed on your hair. “I requested that you wear white.”

You stopped at the second to last step on the staircase. “Your request has been submitted.”

He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. You knew his possessive side was taking over, seeing you in the color he loved so much. Gracefully, you reached the bottom, and you both walked silently to the waiting car outside. 

The ride was quiet, and you kept your eyes out the window, watching the trees and buildings pass you by. Your posture was perfect, your face void of any emotion. You were calm, but he didn’t know that, and it was delicious.

Coriolanus watched you shamelessly, but you did not once turn your head to look at him. 

Once you arrived at the event at someone’s mansion, Coriolanus stepped out of the car, giving you a hand to help you out, and you took it, your hand sliding up to the crook of his arm. You made sure your face was set in a gracious smile. The president and his perfect wife. Your dress would certainly make headlines. You’d never worn anything this bold before, usually sticking to soft, light colors.

There were photographers everywhere, and you made sure to look up at Coriolanus lovingly, your stupid, foolish heart melting when you found he was looking at you the same way. It’s not real, you had to remind yourself. It. Isn’t. Real.

But oh…he was so handsome. And the way he held your hand in the cradle of his arm, made sure you didn’t trip over your dress as you went up the stairs…you hated yourself for the feelings coursing through you. He cheated on you.

As you entered the party, you struggled to put your emotions back in their box. Coriolanus wound his arm around your waist, signaling that you should stay close to him, but you ignored it, taking a glass of champagne and moving toward where some of the other wives had gathered.

Your husband caught you around the waist again, his fingers digging into your side. “Right by me, dove.” Coriolanus’ expression was firm, and his eyes bored a hole into you. 

Tilting your head as your eyebrows raised, you took a sip of your drink. “I want to say hello. Be a good First Lady.”

“You can do that by keeping by my side,” he said coldly. His voice lowered so only you could hear. “I don’t care what you think you know, we have an image to maintain.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about image,” you said in a sharp whisper. “That's all we are.”

With that, you jerked yourself away, and this time you were too fast to stop him.

Talking with the other wives went exactly how you thought. Mindless gossip, compliments on your dress, tentative tactics on their part to try and figure out what went on behind the walls of the president’s mansion. You’d always enjoyed playing with them, giving them just enough ‘information’, but still keeping the secrecy that kept them interested. That was your job- to be interesting. To be an extension of Coriolanus, but better. Charming, beautiful, sweet.

Eventually, you tired of them, and returned to him, another champagne glass in hand. You would’ve had to eventually, and you wanted it to be on your own terms. He was speaking with a senator and his dark haired wife. As you approached them, he twined his arm back around your waist, greeting you with a dutiful kiss to your hairline, his eyes still on the senator as he rambled about district funding. 

You smiled at his wife, knowing you’d have to engage in conversation with her while the men did. She smiled back, studying you, her careful eyes catching on your neck, on the burn mark that hadn’t fully healed yet. Your hair had been covering it up so far, but apparently on your walk over, it’d moved aside. 

The dark haired woman frowned, and she looked at you, curiosity thinly veiled by feigned concern. “Whatever happened to your neck? It looks painful.”

The conversation between the two men halted, and they both looked at you. You allowed an innocent expression to take over your face, and you moved your hair modestly so the mark was covered again. “Oh…Coriolanus got a bit carried away is all,” you said, looking up at him with a sweet smile, your hand on the back of his shoulder. “Right, dearest?”

His mouth was firmly set as he looked down at you, eyes were hard. He’d had about enough of your behavior, and you could see it. But instead of yelling at you or gripping your waist tighter, he smirked.

 Then he took your glass away. “That’s enough for you I think.” The senator laughed, and your husband drank the little champagne that was left. 

You just watched him, your smile fading a bit. In a single motion, he’d taken the power back, made you look like a fool. Your cheeks flushed a bit, and you forced a smile onto your face, succumbing to his grip.

 The next hour was a parade of pointless small talk and stillness on your part. This felt unfamiliar- you were usually sweet and chatty with all those you greeted, charming even the frostiest of figures. 

This trait had always been a part of you, ever since you’d been inducted into Capitol society. Quickly, you’d learned you liked it when people liked you, and over the years, your charm had developed naturally. You suspected it was what drew him to you initially. The two of you had met at one of these types of parties after all.

When you and Coriolanus debuted your engagement, society had been no less than thrilled. Their beautiful effervescent debutante paired with the handsome up and coming politician. And when he’d become president within your first year of marriage, well, it was a supernova. The tabloids had dubbed you “Panem’s Princess” because of it. 

You thought of that girl as you smiled listlessly at passerby, nodding along with whatever Coriolanus was saying, mourning the innocence you’d lost. That girl felt like a character in a book now, relatable, but far beyond your grasp. She’d been so hopeful, and he’d torn it all down.

Coriolanus squeezed your side briefly, and you smiled a little brighter, nodding at the man he was talking to like you’d been paying attention, hoping your demeanor wasn’t too noticeable.

Oh, who were you kidding? The papers would have a field day with this. They followed your every move at public events. Looking down at where Coriolanus’ hand was situated, slightly over your tummy, you could hear the headlines. FIRST LADY EXPECTED TO EXPECT! PANEM’S PRINCESS PREGNANT? 

Not that it really mattered, you supposed. The rumors would die down. Your marriage wouldn’t.

Your husband excused himself with a whisper and a squeeze to your waist, and you didn’t watch him leave, not really caring in the moment where he went. Immediately, you were accosted by another wife, admonishing compliments on your dress. 

“I’ve never seen you match with President Snow,” she said, smiling brightly. “Trying something new?”

You nodded, smiling back warmly. Panem’s Princess. “To be honest, it was a complete accident. But I wasn’t about to change.”

She laughed. “The two of you are so sweet. The entire country’s jealous of your relationship.”

Smile fading a bit, you excused yourself, apologizing to her as you did. The innocent comment opened the box of feelings you’d tried to kick aside. Pretending was agony. How was it going to get easier, acting like he loved you?

You stumbled into the hallway, darting just around a nearby corner for a moment of privacy, your back against the wall, the coolness of it breathing a little life into you. Breathing ragged, you rested your head against the wall, trying to regain your calm but it proved difficult.

If he’d truly never cared about you, this must have come easily. Jealousy overwhelmed you at the thought. As your mind wandered to the future, you were overwhelmed by the idea of thousands more of these events. Was it going to be this agonizing every time? This would be unbearable.

Thinking of before, you tried to come to a conclusion. Maybe you could be done avoiding him now. Surely he’d learned his lesson. You could move past this, learn to forgive him. Maybe, just maybe, if you allowed yourself to care about him again, it would be easier. It could be like before.

You’d decided to talk to him when you got home, when you heard voices around the corner, by where the door to the party was. It was Coriolanus, you realized. Curious, you listened closer, moving a little bit to the side to have a better vantage. That was him all right. Authoritative, but soft enough that you couldn’t really hear what he was saying. And then someone else started talking. A woman.

Immediately, you moved around the corner to see them, keeping yourself in the shadows. If he looked up, he’d see you, but his eyes were focused on the woman in front of him. The dark haired woman.

It was the senator’s wife. Them being alone together wasn’t enough to suspect anything. But the way he was looking at her.

Your eyes widened as you realized it. It’s her. 

Coriolanus tilted her chin up as he said something quietly. His face was hardened, and he nodded once at her response. Then she went back into the party, leaving him alone. You forgot you were in a spot where he’d see you, frozen in place. Then he looked up, his sharp blue eyes piercing you.

The two of you were locked there, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Then, without even realizing it, you moved toward him, anger making you faster.

Your hand moved of its own volition, yanking his collar so his face was close to yours. “What the fuck was that?”

He made no move to stop you. “Calm down, dove-”

The pet name only angered you further, and you pulled harder. “You were four feet from the door. Discretion isn’t your strong point, is it?”

Coriolanus pulled your hand off his collar, gripping it and suffocating your fingers. “You don’t know what you saw.”

“Save it,” you hissed, trying to pull your hand away. “Save it for her. She’s still under your spell.”

Your hand was freed, and you went back into the party, fury numbing you, objectives unclear. In a haze, you glided to her husband, greeting him sweetly. He excused himself from whom he was previously speaking immediately as you worked your charm on him, smiling brightly and laughing. 

Then you touched his arm, moving just slightly closer. Enough for him to notice, enough for him to notice, but not enough for a nosy reporter to sell it into a story.

The senator looked pleased, and he gave you a tentative smile, opening his mouth to say something-

An arm claimed your waist for the millionth time tonight, and you were pulled into your husband’s chest, his other hand on the back of your neck, forcing your face to rest against his shoulder, hiding you from the world. The cool of his wedding ring was pressed against your skin

“Apologies, Senator,” Coriolanus said smoothly. “It seems my wife didn’t slow down on the champagne.”

You heard a faint chuckle, and then Coriolanus dropped his lips to the top of your head, hand smoothing over your curls. Since you hardly ever wore your hair like this, you knew he’d been dying to touch it all night.

The senator must have left, because he leaned down and whispered, “We’re leaving. Now.”

The walk back to the car was a blur as he pulled you through the crowd, and you kept up as gracefully as you could, hurrying down the stairs and nearly tripping over your dress. The second the door was shut, he turned to you, his face furious. “The next man you touch dies.”

You slapped him, an instant response. His face was unmoving, his glare stronger now. The anger simmered in both of you. 

“Try not to hurt yourself,” you spat, your other hand balling into a fist, nails digging into your palm.

His hands were around your wrists in a flash. “You are mine. After everything I’ve given you, everything-”

“What about what I’ve given you?” you retorted, your hair falling forward over your shoulders as you looked up at him. “You really think you could’ve done anything without my image? I’m Panem’s Princess. Without me you’re just a man who got lucky.”

“Don’t you go there,” he said coolly, gripping your wrists tighter. But you could tell your words had gotten to him, hit him right in the ego.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You leaned closer to him. “You know as well as I do that you’re well liked. But I’m adored. You’re too caught up in your own image to realize I’m helping you more than you ever did me.”

The car stopped in front of the mansion, and you got out, pulling your wrists away, kicking off your shoes and picking them up, walking up the stairs, not caring if he followed but knowing he would.

As the door shut behind the both of you, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him. “Tonight had better be an anomaly. You show up in this dress, flirt with someone beneath me and think you can get away with it?”

“I could say the exact same thing to you,” you scoffed, almost laughing. “Everyone thinks you’re something to be afraid of, but all I see is a little boy who thinks he can have it all.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset by any of this,” he said frustratedly, and you scoffed again, looking away in disbelief. “You knew the terms of this marriage. It’s not like I hurt you.”

You were silent, staring at him, waiting for him to figure it out. It took him one minute, and it was one minute longer than you’d have liked. His face fell slightly as he realized, his eyes widening slightly. “You…you…”

There were hot tears in your eyes, and you cursed yourself for it. Stupid, stupid feelings. Stupid, beautiful man.

“I thought…you cared about me,” you said, your voice only breaking a little, holding strong. “Not loved. Cared. And I was wrong. So wrong.”

Coriolanus shook his head and released your wrists, stepping toward you a little. “I do care about you…”

You shook your head, looking up at him, a single cursed tear falling down your cheek. “I don’t know if you care about anyone. Not me, not her, nobody. You’re the king of everything…” you spread your arms out wide for a second, letting them fall to your sides. “But being at the top isn’t what you thought it’d be.”

He kept quiet for once.

Closing your eyes, you brought a hand to your brow, trying to breathe steadily. All the emotion and panic from the night was encircling you, backing you into a tighter and tighter spot. 

Seeing him with her…his hand on her chin…how many times has he seen her since…I don’t want him…I want him…he cheated…

Your legs grew weak, and you dropped your shoes, collapsing to your knees, chest heaving and ears ringing. Your nails dug into your palms, trying to capture the tension there, but failing. He was on the ground next to you in an instant, hand on your back. You shook your head, trying to push him away. “Don’t…please don’t…”

Coriolanus ignored you, hand rubbing your back, trying to soothe you through it. He said your name softly, and you shook your head again. “Please go…”

You were trying to stay angry, trying to keep yourself the confident, intimidating woman he’d seen all night…but it’d all broken you down. Despite it all, despite the cheating and lying, you cared. You cared too much. It was worthless to pretend, too exhausting to have any kind of facade. And so you fell…fell back into his arms where you’d begun. 

He held you close to his chest, his hand pressing your head to him, your ear right over his heart. The steady beating of it calmed you, and you clung to him, gasping for air. Coriolanus dug his nose into your hair, taking in deep breaths that encouraged you to do the same. His thumb rubbed the space between your ear and your hair, his other arm secured protectively around you.

Gradually your breathing became regular again, but you still held tight to him. He was all you had right now. 

“Stay with me tonight love,” he murmured, staying perfectly still as you rested against him. “You never have to again. But…”

“I hate you,” you breathed shakily.

“I know, love,” he nudged his nose against your head. “I know. Stay with me.”

“If you ever do this again I’ll leave you,” you vowed softly, meaning it. “I’ll leave you…and you’ll never find me…”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he muttered, and you felt his ring against your skin again. “Stay with me tonight love.”

Love. You were too exhausted to argue, and you just slumped against him, letting him hold you close.

Half of your brain screamed at you to pull yourself away, to stand firm, to divide the house between you even further, make it crumble. But the softer part felt how gently he held you, how he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hoisting you into his arms as he stood up, carrying you up the stairs.

He cheated, he cheated, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated.

His bed was so familiar, and you’d missed it. Missed his scent surrounding you, his arms around you as you drifted off. 

He cheated.

Does he regret it?

Does it matter?

Lovelovelovelove.

A house set on fire cannot stand.

#coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #married to young president snow #president snow x reader #young president snow #milliesfishes snow #milliesfishes #Spotify

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊

masterlist

Warnings- murder, snows a psycho, possessiveness

snow would kill for you, in fact, he has before. Every man and women in Panem knows you’re his girl, his to keep. But that guy kept staring at you, even when coryo came up and gave you a kiss on the cheek, his hands on your hips.

So, he resorted to what he knew best. He excused himself outside. Grabbing the nearest weapon, (a pipe he found on the ground) he followed the man behind an alley quietly, and once he was out of sight, smacking his head with the pipe, knocking him into the wall and unconsciousness.

He then got down the man’s level, punching his face multiple times, blood splattering onto him.

And he went back inside, ridding the blood stained pipe and wiping it off his face. He came back to you, holding his clean hand out for you to hold.

“We shall be going.” He announced to the others, you followed him, none the wiser about the man who had just been murdered by your sweet loving husband.

#coriolanus snow drabble #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #president coriolanus snow #president snow #president snow x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader

[ladyathenawisdom]

Trap | Prologue

Warnings: Fluff, Mature Themes, Violence, Corruption, Manipulation, Mentions of Smut, Mentions of Killing.

If anyone asked the Capitol what soulmates looked like, either platonic or romantic, two names would appear in their minds.

Coriolanus Snow and Lalina Trap.

Two of the best students at the Academy in the Capital.

And the President Of Panem and the First Lady of Panem.

Soulmates; It was a word that couldn't even possibly explain the friendship between Lalina Trap and Coriolanus Snow. The two seemed more than that.

They had been the best of friends ever since they had met. Never once leaving the other, no one could see one of them without the other. The two seemed to be in sync, almost as if they were the same person sharing one mind.

But then again, they didn't share the same personalities for no reason at all. The two were good, really good, clever and tactical. Their minds fresh and sharp, cunning and devious all the same. Afterall, the two seemed to click for a reason after all.

Power and Love. They craved it, they wanted it, but more then that; They wanted each other.

But rejection and the ruining of their friendship kept them apart, the fear of losing the other kept them apart. Yet, the two also seemed to want each other because of that. Because the other craved power, because they were devious and psychotic. They were the same person in two different bodies.

But while Coriolanus looked to be devious, Lalina looked innocent. She was a innocent young woman, never letting anyone see her true face. Except her best friend, Corio, she had nicknamed, who knew her truly.

The saying was: Snow Lands On Top

But there was another saying.

Never ever fall in Lalina Trap's trap. She was a trap for a reason, her traps never failed.

Never Fall Into Her Trap.

The two couldn't stand to see other people around the other, they couldn't stand the other getting hurt, emotionally or even physically. They were meant to be, they were meant to be together, they were meant to rule. The perfect power couple.

Two Monsters In Love.

Laughs and cheers were heard all around as the pary commenced, right after the 74th Hunger Games. The two victors had been crowned, surprisingly and not surprisingly of District 12. Then again, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, were the famous love couple. Their gossip and love story had become quite popular and had spread all around the Capitol and the districts.

Katniss walked side by side with her man, a fake smile on her face as she held Peeta's hand as they followed after Haymitch and Effie who was talking about something related to the party.

The female victor looks over in front of her when she hears boisterous laughter, she furrows her eyebrows in confusion. It wasn't surprising to see such loud things happening at a party, buy she could hear the compliments and sweet talks of the ladies and men all around.

As if they were complimenting someone.

Haymich also pauses, something flashes in his eyes as the people move away to reveal a bodyguard. The man turns before he walks to the side, revealing a woman.

Katniss blinked in shock, the woman was absolutely beautiful. She looked fairly old, but that didn't seem to dull her beauty, in fact, it seemed as if it enhanced it. And unlike the fashion of the capital, she was dressed quite simply yet elegantly.

Her platinum blonde hair, almost white, was in a half updo and half down. Her brown eyes were like two doe eyes staring right at her, yet sharp like daggers. Her lips were heart-shaped and painted pink. Her makeup was tame compared to the rest of the Capitol, but she looked beautiful in the simplicity.

She was wearing a long brown gown, smooth and light. She wore light jewelry compared to others, light golden earrings, bracelets around her wrists and a few rings on her fingers. But despite that, the energy that radiated off her was powerful and strong.

Katniss narrows her eyes, spotting the snowflake pendent around her neck, seeing the word 'trap' on it.

Haymitch chuckles, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

The woman's lips immediately break out into a wide smile, looking eager and surprised. "Haymitch!" She exclaims with a chuckle, holding a drink that had a pink liquid in it. "How are you?" She smiles kindly, her doe eyes twinkling.

Haymich smiles, looking tipsy yet knowing where he was currently. "Ahh, just showing the victors where the real party was." He says, looking over at his tributes. "Katniss, Peeta. I want you to meet our lady of Panem. The First Lady Of Panem and President Snow's Wife. Lalina Trap-Snow." He smiles politely.

Lalina's eyes snap towards Peeta and Katniss, eyeing them carefully. "Ahh, yes. The famous couple I've been hearing about, finally getting to meet them." She smiles.

Katniss didn't seem to think the smile was genuine.

Lalina's eyes linger on the pin on Katniss's dress. "What a lovely pin," she remarks, taking a sip of her drink.

Katniss merely nods, looking hesitant.

"You're very beautiful." Peeta says, staring at her in what looked like awe almost.

Katniss side eyes him.

Haymitch coughs.

A laugh bubbles out of Lalina's lips. "Wow, that must be the most genuine thing I have heard from someone other than my husband." She chuckles, clearing her throat as she maintained her posture.

Katniss continued to stare, almost as if analyzing her. She didn't know whether to like the woman or not, she was kind enough. But even kind faces had dark sides that they showed no one. But Lalina Trap-Snow, she seemed to be a mystery.

"Well, you do look quite spectacular this evening." Haymitch says with a nod. "And I don't lie when I'm drunk."

Lalina smirks. "You're always drunk, Haymitch."

"Guilty,"

Peeta chuckles.

Effie smiles, looking surprisingly uncomfortable in the presence of the First Lady of Panem.

"Well, I should not keep you waiting." Haymitch nods, gesturing to the party. "I'm sure you have priorities."

"Oh, don't worry yourself." Lalina says. "I have to go meet Corio anyway. It was an honor meeting the famous love couple." She glances in the direction of Katniss and Peeta. She smiles at them before turning around and walking away, with the man and a few other security guards following behind her at a safe distance.

Effie sighs, breathing out in relief. "Oh, that woman gives me the creeps!" She says quickly and quietly, looking around incase anyone heard.

Katniss and Peeta watch in fascination as the First Lady walks away.

"Don't be fooled by the act," Haymitch speaks up, looking around the gala. "Lalina Trap is a mystery herself. She's said to be more devious then Snow, and that's saying something." His eyes light up when a waiter walks by, he grabs the glass of whiskey and downs it.

Katniss looks back at her. "More then Snow?"

"She seems so...kind." Peeta frowns, looking back at his mentor.

Haymitch chuckles. "Oh, don't fall in her trap. There's a reason she's a Trap, she's clever and knows how to play her part well. She's most likely the only weakness that Snow has, but also his strength. They're both devious and clever." He sighs, shaking his head. "Don't underestimate Lalina Trap. And most importantly, don't fall into her trap, her traps never fail."

Katniss' eyes trail back towards the seemingly kind woman, spotting her walking up to President Snow.

The Victor blinks in surprise when she sees the glimpse of genuine longing in Snow's eyes as he turns to her, his hand grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles gently.

Lalina giggles, her laughter bubbling around as her cheeks turn a pretty pink color.

Katniss watches keenly, looking curious.

Lalina Snow.

Lalina Trap-Snow.

Lalina Trap.

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #president snow #president snow x reader #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #lucy grey #sejanus plinth #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tigris snow #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #peeta mellark #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #catching fire #wife #friends to lovers #lovers #best friends #why the fuck do we love villains that much??? xd #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x oc #oc #own character

[tonixe]

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 &lt;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.

#coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth #president coriolanus snow #tbosas x reader #tbosas movie #tbosbas #tbosas #president snow x reader #snow x reader #snow x you

[itsbuckytm]

Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you. 

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse. 

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal. 

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay. 

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time. 

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it. 

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual. 

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right. 

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out. 

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes. 

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that." 

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is. 

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along. 

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies. 

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year. 

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you. 

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers. 

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers. 

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered. 

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red. 

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!" 

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance. 

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to." 

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident. 

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving. 

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say. 

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon. 

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere. 

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning. 

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem. 

Y/N, Snow.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #coryo #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter six)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, mild bondage, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 6/6

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: .......13.5k

a/n: WHEW what a wait. thank you, as always, for your patience this past month or so! as i’ve mentioned i’ve been busy as hell, but it is with many internal screams that i can say! welcome to the final chapter of this series!! what a ride we've all had these last few months! buckle up for like. essay length extensive smut and also plot. in varying order. as always, feedback makes my world spin round at rocket speed, and just. thank you guys for all the love ever since i posted chapter one last november (november me with a brand new sideblog had no clue this would become a Thing i finished let alone a Thing people liked!! that's all on you lovely humans. ily)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

Heaven was his head between your thighs.

His hands on you, everywhere. Hot mouth pressed to your skin, your neck, your thighs, your cunt. He was slow. Thorough. Pulling cries out of your mouth that got louder and louder until your back arched on the bed and you lay slumped and panting, twisted in his sheets. Taken apart and stitched right back together.

It hadn’t started like this. Not even close.

You woke to a soft light on your face, the curtains parted slightly. Your throat felt sore, and you were tired. Body heavy, slumped across a bed. His. It came back to you in fragments. The party. The photograph. His hand in your hair. His eyes after, apologetic and pleading. Falling asleep right here, next to him, but there was nobody beside you anymore. Your eyes adjusted to the room; you’d never seen it at this time of day, with sunbeams lighting up the walls. You could hear a soft tapping sound, like rain on the windowsill, but it was a bright and sunny spring day out.

Typing. That’s what it was.

Steady, satisfying clicks as the typewriter punched ink onto paper. You turned your head towards the desk across the room.

Coriolanus was sat there, focused, a breakfast tray pushed to one side. He didn’t notice you for a while, and you rolled over to take him in, a slight squint in his eye as he concentrated. You pulled your tired body up and leaned against the pillows, and he turned.

“Morning.” He said in surprise.

“Hi.”

This was strange. Like a warped sense of a morning after.

“Coffee?” He offered. “It’s still hot, I think.”

“Please.”

As he stood to pour from the French press, you took a look around you, eyes landing on the nightstand. A glass of water stood tall next to the silver chain he’d given you last night.

So innocent. If someone took a peek through a crack in the wall, they’d think you were a perfectly normal couple. Domestic bliss.

Not so much, you thought, as he walked over and handed you a cup.

He didn’t linger, but sat down at the foot of the bed, and that only made things stranger. He’d never been one to shy away from physical proximity, but here you both were, sipping just-hot coffee as he eyed you carefully. Like you were an animal in an enclosure, and he hadn’t quite figured out which approach to take with you yet.

“Are you working on something?” You nodded toward the cluttered desk.

“Just the usual. Work.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you worked in here.”

“I don’t, usually. Never have, in fact.” He sounded sheepish. This was entirely new. “But I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Oh.

You said just that.

“Oh. Um, thank you.”

“I can go if you’d like. Leave you to rest.”

“No, that’s okay. Stay.”

His eyes softened a little, shoulders sinking down.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

You considered. You hadn’t really thought much about it.

“Tired, I think. This is helping. Thank you.” You sipped at the cup of coffee, careful not to spill it on his sheets. An oddly comfortable silence hung in the air.

“I called Cordelia. She’s coming over this afternoon, we can figure it all out. Print a story you’re happy with.”

“Wait, what? We don’t have an appointment for three more weeks.”

He glanced awkwardly at the floor, and cleared his throat.

“I thought you’d want to make it as quick as possible. It will be, and it won’t shine badly on you. I’ll get Lucille to pack your things, and if you don’t want to go back to your parents, I’d be happy to put you up somewhere in the city for as long as you’d like. It’s the least I could do after everything that I-”

“Coriolanus, stop.” You shook your head, bewildered.

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

He paused.

“Of course.”

“How the hell are you meant to know what I want if you’ve never asked me?”

He frowned, eyes darting from the floor, to you, to the floor again.

“I… Well, I assumed that-”

“Don’t assume.” You interrupted. “God, when will you stop assuming you know what’s best for me? It’d be nice to feel like I have a say in this. Don’t you see that if we do this, we’ll just end up right back where we started? I don’t want that, do you?”

“Doll, I think this would be for the best.”

“Why, am I getting too difficult for you now? You got someone new lined up ready to take my place? Someone less complicated? More complacent?” You snapped.

“Of course not, it’s not that.”

“Then why? Why do you want me gone? Because it’s pretty damn clear that you do from where I’m sat.”

He sighed, turning to face you, but looking at your lap. You gripped the cup with a vice, like you were trying to snap off the handle. You placed it on the nightstand.

“I’ve just been wondering if this has become about something… else, to you. and I wanted to say that if that’s the case, this can’t continue. Because… well, I’ve grown fond of you, and it isn’t fair to keep you hoping.”

Your confusion softened your sharp edges.

“Hoping for what?”

For whatever reason, he didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.

“Hoping that… I can give you something I don’t think I’m capable of. Or at least, not anymore. It’s not fair on you. I can’t give you what you need.”

“And what exactly is it that I need?”

He shifted, looking awkwardly to the floor. At first, your frown only deepened, then it hit you. A knowing smile crept onto your face.

“Oh my god… you think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His frown only widened your grin. you were pretty sure you must’ve looked insane. Despite yourself, you let out a laugh, and his frown only deepened.

“When you… you’ve been upset lately. The other week at the luncheon, and then last night, I thought it was-”

“That I was, what, in love with you?”

A cocky, shit eating grin now took over your face.

He started a sentence, but stopped himself. You could see it on his face; he was completely thrown.

“So you’re not.” He checked.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Snow. ‘Course not. That’s never what this was about, I mean, we have rules for a reason. Sure, we’ve been breaking them like it’s our day job, but not the golden one. Never the most important.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked a little sheepish.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” you repeated, “I’m not in love with you.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. His shoulders sank down, like he was relieved.

“I see. That’s good, that’s… for the best.”

“So will you cancel Cordelia?”

“Okay. If that’s what you want., it’s done.”

You nodded.

“See, this is better. It’s a lot easier when you ask me things. And I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t exactly been the most talkative either.”

“It’s not exactly our strong suit.” He agreed.

“Yeah. You know, while we’re on the topic, there’s something else you can do for me.”

“Anything.”

“You can run me a bath. A hot one. With bubbles.” You added.

It was slight, but you saw it. He perked up.

“Okay, doll.”

The bath was hot, and it smelt like the softer parts of him, like fresh linen and the spice of his cologne. Again, he didn’t linger, just ran the bath, saw you into the room and let you be. It was frustrating – while it was nice to soak in the hot water and feel your muscles relax, you wished he would just talk to you, instead of acting like you were something to avoid, something to walk on eggshells around. This change in his demeanour wasn’t a completely unwelcome one – you didn’t mind feeling as though you had the upper hand, and held all the cards for once – but you didn’t like being treated like you were broken, either.

You sank your head underneath the bubbles and stayed down there for a few seconds, the rush of water clouding your eardrums. It was a peaceful kind of noise, and when you came back up for air, you found yourself breathing a little easier.

You pondered. Processed, considering the steps to take next, rolling your neck out and stretching your feet to the edge of the tub. Anytime you thought you’d reached any sort of plateau with Coriolanus, something new would pop up out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t minded the danger at first, it drew you in and kept you hungry for more, but you’d grown tired, weary from the whiplash knotting your neck.

When the water cooled, you looked around, but couldn’t see a towel. You cleared your throat.

“Snow?” You called out.

Soft footsteps. Then, his voice from behind the door.

“Everything okay?”

“I just need a towel. I can’t see one near me.”

“They’re in the linen closet in the corner.”

You eyed the floor between the tub and the closet.

“I’d have to get out and drip bathwater all across the floor. Can you just come in here and hand me one?”

Silence.

“Please?” You added.

More silence. Then he quietly cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Okay, fine. I’m coming in, I won’t look.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

The door cracked open and he made a short beeline to the closet, unfolding a towel and holding it out. When he walked to the side of the tub, he looked off to the side like the colour of the walls was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit you. Then you backed into the towel and took it from him, wrapping it around yourself, sinking into the soft cotton. He stood behind you, paused, seemingly suspended in place and unable to move. You heard him draw in a breath, inches from the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His breath caught on the droplets of water gathered on your skin, and it warmed you and gave you a chill at the same time.

“I know you are.”

Then in a flash, you spun around, lips on his, hungry. He kissed you back like he had something to prove, and hell, maybe he did. His hands tangled in your wet hair and yours made for his shirt. The towel slipped to the floor and fell in a pile at your feet. One button came open, you broke the second, which flew into the air and landed on the floor with a tap. He pulled you in closer, hands all over you, and you worked frantically at the third, not caring if it broke, not caring about anything.

“Doll.”

You looked up at him, at his blown-out eyes.

“Want you to fuck me.” You breathed.

“I can’t.”

You jolted to a stop, catching your breath. He took a step back.

“What?”

He pulled in slow breaths, like he was trying to cool himself off. His eyes pressed shut.

“Not like this. Not until I know you trust me again. I don’t… I can’t hurt you again. I won’t do that. I need you to forgive me first. Completely.”

You exhaled slowly, then cleared your throat, lowering to the ground to pick the damp towel off the tiles. When you came back up, half-covered, he was staring at a spot on the wall again, breath laboured.

You tied the towel around you, and looked right at him as he looked away, eyes averted.

“You sure about that, Snow?” you drawled. “You sure as hell don’t look it.”

He swallowed thickly.

“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll just be in the bedroom.”

You brought your hand to your lips, brushing over where he’d just kissed them once he’d turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. You eyed your pile of clothes with disdain.

He was back at his desk when you walked out, wrapped in a shirt he’d offered you, hair towel in hand. He didn’t look as focused on his work this time.

“I cancelled Cordelia. So don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you.” You made for the bed, and climbed back onto it. “Rather just talk to you anyway.”

His jaw tensed. It seemed he was still doing everything in his power not to look at you.

“You know, there’s this thing called eye contact. Remember that thing Cordelia waffles on about? It’s important when you’re having a conversation with somebody. I’m a big fan, myself.”

His eyes shot daggers at you. But at least he was looking.

“And what did you want to talk about, exactly?”

You shrugged, and he glanced back at the desk, and pretended to study one of the papers there.

“I don’t know. All of this, I guess.”

Much to your annoyance, he didn’t answer. Your eyes swept the room again, and you brought the towel to your hair. The sun was high enough now to light up the silver chain on the nightstand, and you took it in your palm, turning it over.

“Did you mean it when you said I could have this?” You wondered aloud.

He looked at you again.

“Wasn’t sure if you remembered that.”

“Well, I do.”

“Then I meant it.” His words shouldn’t have made you smile, but they did.

“Will you put this on me?” You asked.

“Uh. Sure.”

The chair creaked as he pushed it back from underneath him, and he walked over to you cautiously, perching on the bed, taking the dog tag, then ever so gently brushing your hair to one side.

“Can I just ask-”

“Anything.” He said quickly.

The cool metal slid onto your chest as he secured the chain, falling low.

“When you were out there, did you…” you swallowed.

Say it.

“…hurt people?” You praised your voice for not shaking. The silence in the room was deafening. But he finally answered.

“I did what was necessary.”

“It must’ve been awful.”

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was.”

“Do you think about it much?”

“More than I care to admit. But it was a long time ago.”

You turned to face him.

“Doesn’t make it less real. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. What matters is that I’m here now.”

You smiled.

“You didn’t get too bad of a deal of it either, President Snow.”

He put your hair back into place, fingertips trailing your shoulder.

“I certainly didn’t.”

You thumbed the cold steel, an odd feeling of satisfaction washing over you.

“Was it worth it?” Your voice sounded quiet, even to you. You were fully aware of the weight of the question, heavier still from the complete understanding that you barely knew what you were asking.

“Yes.”

It should’ve scared you, the surety in his voice. But it didn’t.

Warm breath caressed your shoulder blade, and it really shouldn’t comfort you, but it did. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you. For putting it on. I always get these things tangled.”

“My pleasure. I meant what I said though, sweetheart. No wearing it where anyone’ll see, okay? I need you to promise me.”

You turned your head, shifted so you faced him. You suddenly realised just how close your faces were, and your voice dropped low.

“I promise. It’s nothing new. We’re no strangers to secrets, you and I.”

Your noses were almost touching, and he was looking down at your lips. You drew in a breath, and inched in impossibly closer. You felt his breath on your lips, hot and shallow. Your nose bumped his.

And then his lips were on yours again. But just as quickly, he pulled away.

“Don’t.” You pleaded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t. Not until I’ve fixed this. Please, just… tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You sighed, pulling away.

“This is what I want, Snow. But…”

“Yeah?”

“I just… never knew it would get so complicated. I think for now, maybe I need a little time.”

“Okay. We can do that.”

“I might go home over this weekend. Spend some time with my parents. No tricks, okay? No messengers, no word from you, the entire time. I’ll come back here on Monday morning, and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided then.”

He nodded.

“That’s fine.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’ll leave tomorrow morning?”

“If that’s okay.”

He seemed as satisfied as one would expect with that solution.

“Yes. Of course, anything you want.”

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked a little disappointed by the formality.

“And Snow?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Before I go, will you lie next to me for a little while?"

It was oddly intimate, the way the day stretched on. He lay next to you for a while, and you sank into the sheets and eventually dozed off. When you woke, he was still there, quietly tapping at the typewriter and poring over paperwork. You spent the rest of the day in his room, in bed mostly, with food being brought up to you which you shared in mutual silence or casual conversation. Lucille packed your bags, and you spent the night in his bed, a little distance between you. But when you woke up, you had to slowly pull away your woven limbs.

Leaving was a quiet affair. Snow gave you a chaste kiss goodbye, and Henry snuck you and your bags through the back exit and kept to backroads, so nobody would know who you were or where you were going. Your parents didn’t know why you were visiting either; they didn’t need to. As far as anyone was concerned, you were taking a short weekend trip to check in with your family.

The two days passed quickly. You spent the time reflecting, debating what your next move would be, and listening to your parents argue. You found yourself glancing at the clock by Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday night you were practically crawling out your skin ready to leave. You considered what he’d offered you; an apartment on your own, somewhere in the city. But the thing is, you’d grown used to his moods, to just having him around, if only to dig your fingers into and pry open, searching for secrets. Life would feel awfully dull without it. You’d never met someone who was a match for you, who challenged you. You wondered if he felt the same.

Monday morning rolled around and you let out a heavy sigh of relief as you climbed into the car. Henry glanced back at you, but didn’t comment.

The second the manor came into sight, your head clouded with doubt. Would he want you to stick around? You’d spent the last couple of days toying with all outcomes like some omniscient god, but until now you hadn’t considered the fact that Snow might’ve done some thinking through of his own.

But as you pulled up at the side door, there he was. Standing perfectly poised, waiting for you, and all your worries washed away as he looked at you. Henry opened the door, and Coriolanus offered his hand as you stepped out the car. He looked at you with the same intensity as he had that very first night in his room, when you’d finally dropped the charade, and you returned the stare. Even just feeling his hand on yours set your skin on fire.

When you finally got inside and it was just the two of you, he stopped you.

He looked regal before, proud and superior. Now, you could tell it was a façade, laced with a nervous discomfort.

“Well?” He prompted.

You looked at him. Took in the way his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for too long, the tightness in his jaw that only appeared when he was under pressure, and the slight urgency seeping through his otherwise controlled question, and realised then that you hadn’t been the only one going a little insane these past few days.

And now, you had the upper hand again.

“Upstairs,” you answered. “Your room.”

When the door closed behind you and he paced towards the desk, you almost smiled at the parallel. It felt like an age ago that you’d strutted in here, dressed in his suit jacket with something to prove. You knew the cards you were about to play now like you had then, but your thoughts still raced.

Snow cleared his throat.

“So? Have you made up your mind?”

You waited for him to turn and face you.

“I have.”

“And?” So quick to reply. You’d never heard him so on edge.

You wet your lips, taking a step towards him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying stretching this out a little, watching him squirm.

“I’ve decided that… I’m staying.” You said finally.

He let out an audible breath, almost like he didn’t care about you hearing his reaction anymore. Like he’d been strung out the entire weekend, just like you. Like he’d imagined this conversation in a million different ways. He stepped towards you. This was an old dance; one you knew well. You closed the gap between you, and his hand grazed your jaw.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. You held his gaze, he brushed your lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Can I…” His voice dropped.

“Not just yet.”

You relished the little frown that knitted his brows.

“I know you, Snow.” You continued. “You’re good at what you do. You’re better at this than anyone out there. You’re dedicated, and I think that… something tells me you’re going to be President for an awfully long time. I want to be by your side when that happens. I’m not going away when this arrangement suits me too. But I have terms.”

He watched you as if he was mesmerised, and you wondered if he even noticed the way you slowly walked him towards the bed. You hid your smile as the spell broke, and the back of his legs bumped the ottoman. He gazed down at your lips, just a little thrown off kilter.

“Tell me.”

You got closer, lifting your hands to the lapels of his shirt and giving them a tug, turning him so you were stood against the ottoman and he was facing you. He moved so easily, as if this was a dance, one you’d practiced a hundred times over.

“Let’s start with this. You said you’d do anything for my forgiveness, right?”

“I meant it.”

“Good.” You nodded, “Because there is something you can do for me.” Your hand traced his jaw, and he leaned into it.

“Name it.” He whispered, lips pressing against your palm. “It’s yours.”

You leaned towards him, faces close, noses touching, foreheads pressed together. You could feel the almost on your lips, could feel his breath. You relished in the feeling, that electric tension between the two of you. You held onto it, inhaled it like smoke, before cutting it loose.

“Kneel.” You breathed.

Feeling his brows twitch gave you a rush, and when you pulled back, he looked like art. You slowly moved down, sitting on the ottoman, holding his gaze. Then slowly, steadily, like he was walking a gossamer-thin tightrope, he shifted, nudging your legs open to stand between them, and lowered himself down to the floor, knees gently knocking against the hardwood one at a time. You give him a slow nod.

“Like that. Good. Stay there.”

Your legs parted a little further, and his eyes lined up with the way your dress lifted, bunching at your hips, exposing black lace with white trim, barely covering the space he seemed to lean towards.

He wet his lips, glancing up at you. Eyes bright but laden with want, so heavy he thought he might drown in it.

“Can I…” He whispered, and you felt it more than heard it, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

You smiled a little, and shook your head.

“Fuck. Please, doll.”

“Did I ask you to beg?”

“No. But… what can I do?”

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered.

“You can take these off. Slowly.”

You sighed when his palms brushed your hips, pushing your dress up then hooking soft fingers into the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. He was gentle, pulling back but staying oh so close to you as he pulled the lace past your ankles, tossed it to the side, and moved in again expectantly.

“And now?”

You pushed your legs apart again, just enough. Drew in a breath.

“I want you to watch.”

A sound slipped from his mouth, and you weren’t sure if it was just a shaky breath or a quiet curse. His eyes darted between your face and the heat between your thighs. If you couldn’t already feel the mess you’d made, the way his lips parted and his eyes went heavy-lidded would give it away in an instant.

His gaze followed your hand, unwavering as you slowly brought it between your legs, and lazily trailed your fingers towards where you were aching to be touched. Then with a gasp, you brushed your finger against your clit and starting drawing slow circles, slipping further down to push against your opening, slipping through the mess you’d made just from seeing him knelt on the hardwood. 

You kept your head tilted back and your eyes closed, touching yourself with Snow knelt between your legs incredibly brazen, even for you. He was mere inches away, laboured breath dusting the skin of your inner thighs.

But as you melted into the feeling, sinking deeper than you could imagine in just a few short seconds, you opened them again. And there he was, darkened eyes fixed on where your fingers ran messy circles on your cunt, and you let out a soft whine. It was enough to make him redirect his stare to your face, and you couldn’t help but stare back, pressing harder against your clit with a broken sigh. You planted your feet on the floor as you shifted your hips a little, getting slightly closer, making it easier for you to carefully swirl a finger around your entrance, then gently push inside.

“Fuck.” He breathed, rocking forward slightly, to which you shook your head, knee pressing against his shoulder, pushing him back. His pleading eyes drove you on, pushed you to fuck yourself faster, obscene wet noises filling the quiet space.

He looked wrecked; lips parted, eyes begging, glancing up at you. And it only made you all the more shameless, bucking your hips and crying out, gasps slipping from your mouth that you couldn’t deny were getting played up a little for effect. He stared on, looking so fucking small between your legs, so hard you could only imagine it hurt.

You weren’t sure if he noticed he was breathing in tandem with you, but as your breaths picked up, got a little strained, so did his. His eyes slitted, heavy with lust as he stared on.

You got a little cocky; let it go to your head. Nothing would ever beat the rush of adrenaline you felt from seeing the most powerful man you’d ever known giving into you, letting you set the rules. It was intoxicating.

“You okay down there, sweetheart?”

He sighed, slow and heavy.

“I…” He trailed off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is there something you need?” Your voice was breathier than you would like, control slipping from your fingertips, but it was still there and the way he looked up at you. His mouth opened again, jaw agape, on his knees like it was a silent prayer. You fucked yourself faster, mean, dripping down your fingers. He finally spoke.

“Please.” He whispered.

“What did you say?”

“I said -” he swallowed “- I said please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me touch you. Put my mouth on you, I won’t even use my hands. Just let me… baby. Come on.” His voice was raspy and ruined.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet? I’m not so sure.”

His breath was shallow, eyes wide and blown out.

“I’ll prove it to you. Just let me touch you, and I’ll do anything you want. Please, doll.”

You hummed, pretending to weigh it up in your head.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely. Go ahead. But keep your hands to yourself.”

“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you, baby.”

He listened, inching in cautiously, like he was expecting you to change your mind, then he pressed his mouth to you and there it was.

Heaven.

“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

You hummed as he dragged his tongue over your folds, setting your nerves alight, instinctively rocking into the pressure you’d been thinking about since you got him on the floor. His hands, you noted, sat dutifully on his thighs, gripping onto them like it took a physical reminder for him not to reach out and grab your hips, push his fingers into your soft skin and own you.

As welcome as that sounded to your foggy mind, this was about proving a point. You were the one calling the shots here. So you rocked gently against his face as he kissed your clit, lapping at the heat between your legs, only pulling away at intervals to catch his breath, the daylight making the mess on his chin glisten, only to dive back in again, movements slightly limited by the lack of his hands, which you could see was bothering him.

You couldn’t help but tease him a little between gasps.

“I have to say I missed this. Seeing you underneath me.”

He looked up at you. But there was little defiance in his eyes, just want. Want so depraved that it sent a flush through you, making you feel a little unmoored.

“If I didn’t know better, Coryo, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

Face buried between your thighs, a broken whine sent a little shock through your core. You moaned, getting a little strung-out, a little breathy.

“Is that a yes?”

You felt him nod.

“Good. Glad to see you’re putting up less of a fight this time. It wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Giving in?”

This time, his eyes contained a little more fire. He pushed his tongue firmer against your clit, cutting off your question with a gasp. A few moments passed, and you heard him hum.

“Is there something you want to say, baby? Go ahead.”

He pulled back, catching his breath again.

“Still don’t want me to use my hands?”

You shook your head.

“Then can you… if it’ll feel better.” He glanced at your hand, resting lazily on your thigh.

“What?” You knew what he was getting at, but he shot you back a look as if to say, don’t make me say it.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Then say it.”

“Put your hand in my hair. You can… be rough, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

Your smile turned into a sly grin.

“You want me to pull your hair? You sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t… I liked it, last time.” He confessed quietly.

“Liked what?” You pushed.

He took a steady breath, looking down at the velvet seat you were perched on. He gritted out the words steadily, pointedly.

“When you sat on my face. I liked it.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile.

“I know you did.”

He paused, looking down at the floor. Then he looked back up. You brought your hand to his hair, fingers running through the soft strands. He started peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs, something he’d been too desperate to consider when you’d first given him permission to taste you. Now, they sparked the fire even more, and as much as you liked the careful attention, you guided his head to where you needed it. Keeping his words in mind, you gave a slightly rough tug on his hair, and he responded with a pained hum that edged you closer.

At one point, you saw his hand shift to try towards his pants, but you yanked his hair in response.

“No touching yourself yet. Or I’ll only let you watch, okay?”

You built up a rhythm, growing careless with the tugs on his hair so that you felt pressure in all the right places. Your fingers pulled harder as you got close, and you could hear his shallow breath as you took what you wanted from him.

“Fuck. Coryo, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. You wanna make me cum?”

He nodded as best as he could with your hand gripping tight in his hair, and the motion only brought you closer, legs growing weak and tired, hooking over his shoulders now that you’d let him closer. You felt the ache build, almost painful with how long it had been, and you felt yourself snap, spinning out of control as your hand tensed, then fell from his hair. Then his hands were on you, gently this time, smoothing over your bucking hips with a level of control that you melted into as the feeling washed over you. He didn’t stop, pressing his tongue against you harder as you fell apart, shaking like a leaf as he worked your cunt until your cries bordered on screams.

“Fuck. Oh my god, that’s it, I’m…” You broke off into a shout, something so outlandish it sounded foreign to your own ringing ears, but you were too far gone to care. You could vaguely feel yourself grabbing at him as he pulled away, at his hair, his hands, anything, as you slumped back onto the bed. Slowly, he propped himself up, placing a knee between your legs and leaning over you. And his eyes, heavy and wanting, had you aching all over again.

He held back a little, clearly still in the space you’d pushed him into.

“Can I…” He whispered, those desperate eyes fixed on your parted lips as you caught your breath.

“Yeah.” You gasped, and he lowered his head towards you.

This time, he kissed you softer. Still hungry, still wanting, but slow, methodical, like he wanted to relish it. Almost like he wasn’t trying to own you, but in that moment, you could almost go so far as to believe the contrary. And your head swam with pride, feeling his lips on yours as he gently pressed you into the soft mattress.

But you didn’t sit in the feeling for too long.

“Was that okay?” He gasped.

“Yeah. More than okay. But you used your hands at the end there, baby. You know what that means?”

His eyes narrowed as his head cleared a little.

“Lie on your back for me.”

He obliged, dropping onto the mattress and shuffling up to lean against the pillows.

“I missed you, you know.” You murmured as you followed suit, hovering over him to get another kiss.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Thought I was gonna go out of my fucking mind with how much.”

“Yeah?” You smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”

“I hoped not. Glad I was right.”

You smiled again, and shifted closer towards him.

“I could always show you how much I missed you, if you wanted.” Your eyes darted down to the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock pressing against the material. He went a little quiet again, nodding a little, and you grinned. Climbed onto your knees so you were just a little above him, then swung a leg over one of his to sit carefully on his thigh. You paused for a beat.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, baby.”

He sucked in a breath.

“You can touch me.”

You tutted.

“What do we say?”

“Please.” He added quickly.

Without a word, you leaned in, brushing a hand over his cock, starting gentle, but quickly adding pressure. You could tell he was holding back, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering as he tried to control his breath.

“Not getting shy on me again, are you?”

He didn’t answer, just met your eye and you took it as a challenge. Unbuttoned his slacks and with a glance and a nod, slid them down his legs. You licked your palm slow, making sure he was watching closely.

“Fuck.” He breathed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me properly, I’m just gonna have to work harder then, aren’t I?” You drawled as you slipped your hand underneath his boxers. There was a soft thump as his head dropped back onto the headboard and he cursed as your fingers grabbed the base of his cock.

“Like that?” Your mouth pulled into a sly smile.

He hummed, breaking off into a sigh, lips parted and eyes towards the ceiling as you fisted his cock. I’ll take that as a yes.

You swirled your thumb around the head of his cock, gathering messy precum that had gathered at the tip from your teasing, and it hit you then that most of your interactions until now had been psychological, toying with words, with ideas and almosts. You knew by now what made him tick, which words you could use to push him to the edge, but you’d barely had the chance to touch each other. But you were a fast learner, and you knew what you wanted from this.

You wanted to make him fall apart.

So you picked up the pace, and it must’ve ached with how fast you were fucking his cock with your fist, but his determination not to lose his cool made it all the more exciting. It got wet, and that was one thing his composure couldn’t hide. It egged you on, shifting your own hips on his tensing thigh as your sore cunt pressed against the muscle.

“You can hold back all you like, but I can tell you’re fucking close.”

His eyes fell shut in a lust-clouded haze, breath picking up. His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned. You were tempted to take it down your throat, really see how he held up then, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet, and you were on a high learning just how to make his body respond to your touch, how to make him weak. So you worked your wrist and felt his legs jolt a little, and you knew it was a matter of seconds.

“If you want to cum, you’ll have to ask nicely. I don’t know how generous I’m feeling just yet. Convince me.”

“Jesus.” He gasped.

“No, just me. Go on, baby. Beg me. You wanted to earlier, right? Now’s your chance.”

An honest-to-god whine left his mouth, voice cracked and completely fucking ruined. You slowed your motions.

“No, baby, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum. I fucking need it, I did everything you said, I got on my knees, I fucking… fuck, I did what you told me, didn’t I? Everything you asked? And I didn’t touch myself, I haven’t… fuck. All weekend, I haven’t-”

You pressed your lips together.

“Poor thing. You’ve gone this whole weekend without cumming?”

“I was a little fucking preoccupied.” He gritted out.

“Over little old me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Please,” he repeated, “I need to cum. I did what you wanted, doll, I- shit-”

Satisfied, you picked the pace up again, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips rocked a little into your hand as he got close again. Too far gone now to hold back, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes fixed on you. Then, in a seemingly small motion as you leaned into him a little, the dog tag that had been sitting tucked under your dress - and had stayed hidden against your skin all weekend - slipped out, the pendant swinging into the air beneath you, and as Coriolanus caught sight of it, you felt his hips tense, then his cock was twitching and spilling into your hand.

“Shit, that’s so… oh my fucking god, doll.”

You pulled your hand from his boxers and brought it to your mouth, cleaning it off a little.

“You really did need that, huh?” You smirked, and he sighed.

“Yeah. I really fucking did.”

You nodded at his boxers.

“Can I take these off now?”

He pressed his head into the headboard again and nodded, so you carefully pulled them down his legs. Panting and overheated, he unbuttoned his shirt as you threw the fabric to the floor.  What he didn’t expect you to do, though, was put your hand back on his still-twitching cock that sat tired and used against his stomach. He flinched a little as you palmed it, and you looked at him mischievously. Started to move your hand again, slow and steady, but firm.

“That’s… baby. Stop, I already came, I… fuck.” He winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You chuckled, voice turning a little dangerous.

“Oh, you thought we were done?”

“Doll, that’s not – shit – that’s not fucking funny. It’s sensitive, I…” It turned into an uncomfortable hum, but you felt him twitch under your palm, slowly getting hard again. His leg gave a little involuntary kick, much to your satisfaction.

“I… what the fuck.” His voice went quiet and strained, and yours got menacing.

“Oh, you can take it, can’t you? Thought you said you liked me taking the lead a little. You can handle it, can’t you, Snow? Or do you want me to stop?”

“Mm. That’s… was different. Please.” You kept going, a rush washing over you as you wondered if he even knew what he was begging for. You got more daring, rubbing your palm over the tip, and grinned when he cried out.

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. I will.”

He was half-hard again, more cum leaking from his tip as you sped up just a little.

Eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head frantically as the rest of him trembled.

“Didn’t think so.”

His face was twisted like he was holding on desperately, trying to maintain control as you relished in his permission, and palmed him harder.

“Jesus fuck.” He said, voice getting louder now, legs twitching and hips bucking up in little jolts you were certain he couldn’t stop if he tried. You had him now, pliable like clay between your fingertips, shaking apart.

“Is that too much for you?” You taunted, getting cocky now.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snapped, but it fell flat when his voice broke halfway through the question. You laughed.

“I know exactly who I am, Snow. I’m the girl you’re gonna be stuck with for a long time, and I’ve got some demands to make. So listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. You know what happened last week?” You were aware you were starting to sound almost as insane as him, but you didn’t care.

“You don’t ever,” you spat, “do that to me again. If you do, I swear on all of Panem, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

He whined, desperate, so far gone you weren’t sure he was fully listening.

“Say you fucking understand.”

“I… I understand. Fuck. Please. I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance. From here on out, you only get to treat me like a whore when I tell you to. Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, okay. I understand. I’m… shit.”

“This is a partnership, starting now. We help each other. We trust each other. We talk to each other. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, or fuck around with other people. Okay?”

“Okay. That’s… doll, can you slow down just a little? You’re… I’m…”

“You’re gonna cum again?”

He nodded, chasing his breath. You leaned towards him, lowering your head to his chest and dragging your tongue against his collarbone.

“Good. You can cum again, Coryo.”

“Thank you. Thank you - fuck. That feels… I’m-”

“You gonna cum all over my hand again, baby? Do it, I’ve got you. You can cum now.”

The second time he came was with a pained cry, painting your hand until it dripped down your wrist and onto his stomach. When you finally released your grip, he slumped down and sighed, aftershocks still jolting through him.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?”

“I did. And I understand.”

“Good.” You murmured into his ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on his torso, “Then I think we can come to an agreement.”

The week went by in a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. He rarely left you alone, and you barely felt the time pass, every waking moment spent together, flesh on flesh. When he worked, it was at the small desk in his room, and he took plenty of breaks to lounge in bed with you or run you baths.

You learned each other’s tells, growing comfortable touching each other, but Snow stuck to his word, much to your annoyance.

Not until you trust me again, he’d said. Wasn’t it clear enough by you staying?

You’d all but moved into his room, sending Lucille back and forth with hampers for your clothes, which now hang in one side of his closet, or sat folded in his previously empty drawers. You felt closer to him than you ever had before, and the two of you had skin littered with bruises which made you grateful you didn’t have any public functions to attend for quite a while. He’d stopped leaving you to go into the city and work, instead managing people from afar, and letting them get on with their jobs so he could weed out the weakest links.

For the first time, it felt a little like he was yours. Or as much yours as he possibly could be. And as you spent more time together, not just half-dressed and desperate, but talking, really talking, you slowly started to feel like you could be his, too.

“Tell me it feels better than he did. When you were together.” He whispered one morning, when you’d not long woken up and he’d immediately ducked under the covers to get between your thighs. He paused, fingers inside you, looking at you intently, and at first you were confused as to what he meant. You heard the tinge of vulnerability in his voice, and took the cue.

“You really think you deserve that? After everything?”

“No.” He whispered, eyes dropping down again.

“So what do we say?”

“Please.”

“One more time for me.”

He spoke up, voice gorgeously wrecked.

“Please. Tell me it’s better.”

“That’s good. And since you’re being good, I’ll tell you. He didn’t…” you swallowed, catching yourself, “He didn’t really like doing that. what you’re doing.” Your facade cracked a little and you glanced off to the side, not sure what reaction you were expecting.

“Really?” His voice was dumbfounded. It made you laugh.

“You know, Snow, a lot of guys don’t. They’re lazy about it. Want to get it over with, get to the real thing.”

A wide smile pulled at his lips, wolfish.

“Who wouldn’t want to do this?”

“Easy for you to say, handsome.”

He grinned wider.

“Can I try something?”

“I don’t know. will I like it?”

“I think we both will.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Okay, Coryo.”

His smile only deepened, pulling into an excited smirk as he gripped your hips once more, lightly kissing your thighs as he got closer to where you wanted him.

You gasped as his tongue worked you, and when you came, he kept going, easing up only after you’d fallen apart more times than you could keep count.

“Can’t believe you still won’t fuck me.” You pouted one day, as he sat at the desk with a pen in hand, scratching against paper.

He turned around to face you.

“I told you why. Not until-”

“I trust you again, I know. But how do you know that? I could trust you just fine and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“I’ll know.”

You hummed.

“Or,” you started, slipping off the bed and pacing towards him, “you could just fuck me now and call it square.”

He chuckled.

“Nice try, sweetheart.”

You pulled a lip between your teeth as you stood next to him, and he moved his chair out towards you. You smoothed a hand over his dress shirt, and grabbed a hold of his tie. Then you hooked a leg over both of his and lowered yourself onto his lap, face right next to his. You’d grown comfortable with being close to him, and while it still felt electric, you could handle it better. You rocked your hips on his as you got comfortable.

“Feel familiar?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m getting flashbacks.”

You smirked.

“Can I take this off?” You tugged at his shirt.

“Only if you play nice. No acting up, okay?”

“If you say so.” You shrugged, making quick work of the tie and buttons. Once the shirt was off, your lips were all over him, trailing over his chest and neck, tongue tracing lines across his collarbones.

“You don’t have to be anywhere for the next week, do you?” You murmured into his ear.

“No.” His breath hitched a little.

“Good.”

With that, you closed your lips around his pulse, and sucked.

While you littered his whole torso with bruises, and your neck was given a few of its own, you started rocking your hips lazily against him, playing coy like you didn’t know what you were doing, like you couldn’t feel him rock hard between your legs.

“Now this really is taking me back.” His voice strained when he spoke.

You only hummed in response, lace panties bunching in an all-too-familiar way. But you didn’t work your hips like you had something to prove this time, you went slower, taking your time, but staying deliberate in your movements. Your lips met his, breaking away only to breathe, then again when you felt his hips roll a little and his breath get laboured.

You rocked your hips harder, nice and firm. You could feel his cock twitch through his pants, right up against the wet spot forming on your panties. The friction had you shaking.

“Feel good?” You breathed.

“Yeah. Feels real fucking good, sweetheart.”

You smiled as your head lolled back, gasping loud to make sure he really heard it.

“You know what would feel even better, though?”

He mumbled something back but you didn’t catch it, lost in the haze.

“Think it’d feel better if you were fucking me for real right now.”

You didn’t expect the broken moan that escaped him, hands gripping your hips hard. Like the thought of it was enough to make him shatter.

“Baby,” he warned, “don’t.”

“But it would be so easy.” You pressed, “pushing my panties to the side and fucking into me right now.”

“Doll-”

“I know you want to.” you whispered against his ear.

“Do you now?” His strained voice told you everything you needed to know.

You nodded. “Mhm. I know you do. I also know that it’s driving you crazy, having me this close, but not able to take what you want. You must be going out of your mind, you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because I am too. I’m tired of this rule, Snow. Let’s just forget about it, and fuck me already.”

“Get up.” He said firmly. You started.

“What?”

“You heard me. I said get up, sweetheart.”

You climbed off his lap and stood, cautiously, legs shaking from how close you’d gotten. He did the same, towering over you a little as you failed to hide the smile on your face.

“Get on the bed.”

You took in a breath, shaky with nerves.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You sat back on the bed, peering over the mattress as he ducked down to pick up something from the floor.

“What are you-”

“Eyes closed.”

“Okay.” You shut your eyes, then felt him get close to you, his lips meeting yours as he knelt in front you, mattress dipping as he shifted. His hands brushed your arms, slowly pushing them behind your back as you melted into him, and before you could open your eyes, you felt the smooth silk of his tie wrap around your wrists and pull.

“What-”

“You want to act up, doll? Fine. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum all over my fingers before you’re begging me to stop.”

His hand slipped between your legs, pushing your lace panties to the side and pressing a finger into your wet cunt as you cried out. Your eyes pleaded at him, desperate.

“But why can’t you-”

“I said,” he repeated, pressing his finger into the spot that make you see stars, “not. Fucking. Yet.”

He spent hours fingering you open, making you cum until you cried. Then he cleaned up your tears and kissed like you were his whole world as you fell into an exhausted sleep, his words floating around in your head.

The black box was tied with a crisp white ribbon, and sat waiting for you on your bed. You approached it with caution, thumbing the piece of card on top of it. It was a note written in ink.

Wear this tonight. Think you’ll suit it well.

-       C.S

You’d gone into your room to collect something of yours to take to Snow’s room. You rarely went into your room anymore, most of your things had found their place in his, much to your satisfaction.

It was the first day in about two weeks that Coriolanus had finally had to leave the house to go into the city, but he’d promised it would just be for the day. It was also the first gala you had to attend since you’d made your decision, which you were slightly nervous for, but mostly excited to get out of the house, because although the sacred oasis that his room had become, it would be nice to have a change of scenery.

And that brought you back to the beautifully wrapped box lay in front of you. You were buzzing. You turned the note over in your hands, pulling it to your face to breathe it in. It smelt like newly printed books, and something distinctly him.

You recognised the label on the box, it was one of your favorite designers. You pushed the lid away to reveal the most beautiful dress you’d ever laid your eyes on – and you’d seen some impressive pieces.

It was a dark crimson red with gold embroidery, soft as silk. You unfolded it gently, letting the fabric spill out towards the floor. It was a little more revealing than anything you currently owned, with a deep slit up the leg and a plunging neckline, waist cinched, but the rest of the dress was floor length. A smile crept onto your face.

After counting down the hours, it was finally time to make your way downstairs. Snow stood in a full suit, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

“You look beautiful.” He remarked.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” You smiled in response.

You met at the foot of the stairs, and he took your hand in his.

“Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous.” You added, not sure why you were lowering your voice in your own lobby.

“I knew it would suit you. Now you’re almost ready to go.”

“Almost?” You frowned, not sure what you could possibly be missing.

Coriolanus lifted his hand to pull the white rose from his breast pocket. He examined it, then lifted it to your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear. Your lips parted in surprise, and your hand reached up to meet his.

“But it’s your signature. I couldn’t-”

“I know. But people won’t be looking at me tonight. They’ll be looking at you. And this way, when they do, each and every one of them will know that you’re mine.”

That knowing smile crept back onto your face, and you leaned in to press your lips to his.

When you pulled away, you thumbed his tie, realising the color matched your dress exactly.

“I’m sensing a similar theme here.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been seen out in public. It’ll be good to show up like this, show a strong front, not leave any doubters.”

You hummed.

“And when we get home?”

His stare drew you in; you could get lost in it and never find your way out.

“That depends.”

Your gaze lowered to his lips, then back up again.

“Missed you today.” You said.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You promise?”

He smiled.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

“Snow?”

He hummed in response. Your hand felt like it could melt into his, thumb brushing your palm.

“What would you say if I told you that I trust you now?”

His hand stilled. His eyes bored into yours.

“I’d say… that I believe you.”

You held your breath in, letting the anticipation wash over you.

“Later?” You whispered, and he nodded.

“Later.”

The ball was one of the most extravagant you’d seen, large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fountains of champagne dotted around. The health minister had outdone himself, and when you said so to Snow, he muttered a comment about him spending more time planning parties than doing his real job. But he smiled to all the right people, and his hand in yours calmed your nerves as a large procession saw you into the ballroom.

You danced until your feet turned numb, spinning on the ballroom floor, every time Coriolanus put his hands on your waist or wrapped his hand around yours drawing you in further, bringing you closer to forgetting everyone was watching you when his eyes were on yours, each stare becoming some secret language you were now terribly well-versed in. He didn’t let himself get distracted this time, quickly gravitating back to you any time he got pulled away into a conversation, and you basked in the attention, the two of you flirting to high heaven. When you’d spun until you were dizzy, he went to get you a drink, and you stepped off the floor of twirling couples.

It was then that you saw your mother, standing anxiously to one side, the stem of a champagne glass pressed between her fingers. Your parents rarely made it to these functions, but apparently, they had made time for this one. Suddenly aware of your frown and not wanting to arise suspicion, you plastered on a false smile and swanned through the crowd in her direction.

“Oh, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course I am, mother, I wouldn’t miss it. Is everything alright?”

She glanced around the two of you nervously, fiddling with her glass. You touched her shoulder and gently guided her further into the corner of the room. You rarely saw her this distressed, usually the picture of grace and poise.

“What’s wrong?” You pressed.

“Have you heard from Nathaniel?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Nathaniel Greene? Not in a long time.” You figured the little stunt of yours from the month before should go unmentioned.

“I heard from his parents the other day. They’re completely distraught.”

“Why? What on earth happened?”

For a second, echoes of threats that had long settled to the ground popped back into the forefront of your mind, and you swallowed thickly. You sat down in two small chairs at the side of the room.

“They can’t begin to understand why. Perhaps it was work, perhaps he was gambling, or in debt, but nothing could possibly explain such a cruel fate.”

“Mother, tell me what happened. Is he…”

Her hands shook, and you took the glass of champagne from her and placed it on a nearby tray.

“He’s not dead, my darling. It’s worse. A messenger came to his house late the other night. They asked him to pack a bag, and they took him away. To… I can barely say it.”

“Mother,” you gritted, “tell me.”

“A peacekeeper, of all things.” Horror filled her voice. “They sent him away to the districts, for the next twenty years. But what could he have done? I can barely understand it. Can you imagine? A young man of his standing, wasting away in that place? His family is ruined.”

Right then, the crowd around you parted in a way that could only announce the presence of one person.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”

You lifted your head to meet cool blue eyes and a slightly suspicious stare. From where you sat, Snow towered over you both, drink in hand.

“Everything’s fine.” You replied, “my mother isn’t feeling too well. Do you think we could find my father and have him take her home?”

He nodded at an Avox nearby who stepped dutifully away without missing a beat, and a server offered your mother a tray with a glass of water on it. You stood and faced Coriolanus, conscious of the now very interested crowd, and nodded to the large double doors that stood to your right.

“A word?”

He followed you in cautiously.

“I just heard something interesting.” You started.

He stood up straight, setting his jaw when you finally turned to face him. Even though you were barely alone, just a closed door between you and hundreds of people, it felt electric to be standing so close to him again with nobody watching you.

“What’s that?”

Playing it safe. An interesting move.

“Oh, just some rumor about an old friend of ours.”

“Who would that be?”

You smiled.

“I thought it was funny you asked about him the other day. Were you worried if I left you I’d go back to him?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play coy, Coriolanus.” You drawled. “You sent Nathaniel off to be a peacekeeper so I couldn’t go back to him.”

His stony façade fell through a little.

“And if I did?”

The deep frown you’d plastered onto your face for your mother’s benefit fell away, and your lips curved into a smirk.

“I’d say... well played.”

He blinked.

“You’re not upset?”

“Over him? Barely.”

“You’re - ” Snow paused, “so you’re not angry that I sent him away? The districts are hell, you know.”

“I’m sure. I don’t care, Snow. If anything, I’m impressed.”

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“He had it coming. He slept with my closest friend a week after we ended things. He never knew I found out. I’ve just been waiting, really, for him to get what he deserves. I doubted you’d let him off without a warning. There I was thinking you’d lost your touch for a while.”

You wanted to bottle the feeling you got from his eyes burning into you, with something that tasted like admiration.

“I nearly did let him off, for your sake.” He confessed. “But... if that's the case, I'm glad I changed my mind."

“So am I. It was that weekend I left, wasn’t it?”

“Damage control." He said tightly, "You can’t blame me.”

“Thought so. Good work, Snow.” You stepped towards him and revelled in the apprehension on his face with a smirk. “It’s a shame for his family, but they were never particularly nice. Collateral, I suppose.”

“You really don’t care at all?”

“Does it look like I care?”

“No.”

“I think you can read me as well as the next person. So I don’t care. Is that so tragic?”

He shook his head, bewildered. A strange smile appeared on his face.

“No, that’s… that’s good.”

You smirked as a thought popped into your head.

“How long do you think he’ll last out there?”

“Who knows? I hope you’re not banking on him ever coming back.”

You fiddled with his tie, smoothing it down.

“Never. We can’t all be Coriolanus Snow, can we?”

“Certainly not.”

You stepped even closer, and his back bumped softly against the wall. His gaze fell to your lips. You'd painted them a red so deep it was almost black, matching the dress.

"You like the color?" You asked.

"Yeah. Reminds me of when you kissed me in front of everyone and I couldn't get it off."

You laughed.

"Well, it was one way of getting your attention."

"It drove me fucking crazy, you know. It's all I thought about when I jerked off for weeks."

Fuck. Your eyes went a little heavy, laden with want.

“I hope this hasn’t changed our plans tonight.” You murmured.

“Has it changed them for you?”

You shook your head quickly.

“No. You?”

“Of course not.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.

“Good. Because now he’s out of our way, I’m tired of this party. I want to go home."

His eyes darkened a little and he drew in a breath.

“I’ll go say my goodbyes.”

With one of his hands on the doorknob, you stopped him.

“Snow?”

“Yes?”

“I don't want you to be nice. Later, I mean.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a few squeezes shy of breaking off the doorknob.

Your body slammed against his bedroom door with a force. His hands travelled under your clothes; wanting, needing to touch. You sighed and gasped at the feeling, his cold hands on your skin shooting chills through you, tugging off your clothes, kissing your neck, taking all that he wanted but still desperate for more. The rose had long fallen from your hair and lay, forgotten, on the hardwood. He kissed you with purpose, like he was once again trying to prove that he owned you, all the while understanding that he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what pushed him to touch you, to kiss you like it was the last time, like he was scared you’d float away somehow, even though you both know that wouldn’t really happen.

You understood it, because you felt the same way about him.  

You revelled in it, in the way his hands wrapped around your back, lowered to your legs, and lifted you up to push you harder against the door. His lips travelled across every square inch of bare skin he could find, your dress pushed down to your waist, lace bra exposed.

“Take it off.” He whispered, and you arched your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking it with lightning speed. The lights were dim in his room, casting shadows that danced as the two of you moved together. Your head fell back against the solid wood as Coriolanus licked a trail up your neck. It was depraved, more passionate than anything you’d felt before. You could hardly think, blood pumping through your veins faster than you could stand. The only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears was the sound of your breath mixing, hot and heavy as you took, impatient and without apology.

You cried out as his hips pressed harder into yours, and you could feel his length pressing up against you for the hundredth time. Except this time, you could finally let yourself imagine him inside you and trust that he wouldn’t turn this into another round of the game you’d thought endless. You squeezed your legs around his hips.

“Bed.” You gasped, and he grinned, wolfish and thrilled. You were the luckiest girl in Panem, to get to see him look at you that way.

“Been waiting to get this dress off you since I had it made.”

“Don’t tear it. Be gentle.”

“With you, or the dress?”

You narrowed your eyes as he carried you to the bed and placed you down on the mattress.

“Thought I told you that already.”

He was careful with the dress, slipping it over your hips and draping it over the back of the desk chair. When he came back, you were propped up on your elbows, legs bent at the knee, stare unwavering, panties the only thing left to take off. He was still wearing too much, shirt messily undone, pants still fastened but barely concealing the tent beneath them.

“You sure about this?” He checked.

“That a trick question?”

“Doll.”

You laughed. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Take off your shirt, handsome.”

He pulled off the white shirt methodically, and you shifted onto your knees to pull off his belt and toss it to the floor, eager to speed things along. You took in his toned chest and let your gaze sink down to his boxers, where his cock stood painfully hard beneath the material.

“Can I…” You prompted.

“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He sighed as your nails trailed up the bare skin of his thigh and brushed softly over his cock.

You smiled at the addition and took one last glance at his face, anticipation clear on his features that morphed a little in the near-darkness. Then, you pulled the material down his legs and his cock sprung free, and you forgot that you’d done this before, that you were used to this, to him, to being with him in almost every sense. It all slipped away, and as your hand reached to touch him with nothing between the two of you, it felt like the first time you’d ever done it. The breath he sucked in as you started to push the precum around his tip urged you on, making you brazen, and you readjusted your knees on the bed and got closer, then licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.

“Oh my – fuck.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grateful for the darkness.

“That okay?”

He laughed, something dark and untethered.

“You fucking know it is. Such a fucking tease.”

“Wouldn’t be such a tease if we’d done this sooner.”

“Somehow I doubt that, sweetheart – ah.”

He was cut off by you taking the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucking hard as you gripped the base. You pumped your hand a few times and revelled in the sounds he made, choked out grunts and broken sighs, mixed with the occasional curse or a cry of your name.

You felt his hand gently brush against your hair, ever so cautious.

“Can I…”

“Mhm.” You hummed in the affirmative, and he sighed, all low and shaky as he pushed his fingers through your locks, not guiding, just careful pressure on your scalp as he let you take the lead.

“Baby,” he gritted out, “I don’t know how much longer I can… fuck, that’s-”

He sucked in a sharp breath as you stopped, pulling off, lips swollen. You looked up at him, stunned as he caught his breath.

“Coriolanus?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we turn a light on? I can’t… I want to see you.”

In the shadows, you could just make out the glint of his eyes and a dumbfounded smile.

“Of course.”

He stepped away, kicking off his boxers, and you watched him reach over the desk to switch on a small lamp. It lit up his face and you took him in, a thin cast of sweat shimmering across his face and chest. When he turned, you glanced away like you hadn’t been staring. He caught on with a grin.

“Like what you see?”

Such a dick.

“I’d like it better if you were over here.” You mumbled as he paced back towards you.

“You’re the one who wanted the light on, sweetheart. Now I know why.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Snow.”

“Coryo.” His breath danced against your lips as he closed in, lips sealing against yours as he pushed you back on the bed.

“Coryo.” You repeated with a smile when he pulled away kissing down your neck and chest, feeling the shape of the name in your mouth.

Then his hands were on you again as if they’d never left. More heat pooled between your legs as he trailed his hands down your thighs, and you let your head fall back as his fingers pressed through the seam of your panties.

His breath got shaky again as his fingers pushed the scrap of wet fabric to the side. You gasped as his thumb went straight to your clit, determined, rubbing tight circles against the hard nub.

“Oh my god, Coryo, I-”

“So fucking wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?”

It was too much all at once. You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded. Beside yourself, your left hand pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans.

Then he fucking stopped. Your hand fell from your mouth, and you felt the lace get pulled down your legs.

“What are you…” You trailed off. The dim light let you make out his face and you could see his expression now, wanting, but careful, methodical.

“Open your mouth.”

When your lips parted, a little in response, but moreso in surprise, the two fingers he’d been using on your clit slipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw open as his other hand propped him up. You could taste yourself, hot and heavy, spilling onto your tongue.

“I want to hear you, baby. You can’t cover your mouth like that if I’m gonna hear you.”

You nodded, brain a little dead.

“Good girl. Now I don’t have a free hand, know what that means?”

You cried out a little, tongue trapped beneath his fingers.

“Touch yourself, doll. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you nice and fucking close, okay?”

A little self-aware with him hovering right above you, you snaked a hand between your legs, but when you saw the look on his face you stopped wasting time, pushing two fingers inside yourself, heel of your hand bumping your clit as a whine slipped past your lips.

He kept talking, whispering hot and heavy into your ear, dragging his lips over your neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, every touch burning your skin like it was molten. When you’d lost yourself enough, mouth still parted; his fingers gentler now he’d made his point, he ducked his head lower, trailing his lips over your tits, placed his mouth over your nipple and sucked. Your moans got louder, feeling like every inch of skin he covered was hardwired to your cunt, your fingers getting tired and sloppy as you got yourself closer, dripping down your thighs.

You made a sound and he glanced up at you, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“Just fuck me. Please, I can’t wait anymore, Coryo.” You whined, trying desperately to slow down your breathing.

“Poor baby. Couldn’t make yourself cum first?”

You shook your head, any more and you were sure your eyes would start to water.

“That’s okay, doll. I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.”

He lowered himself down towards you, arms either side of yours, crowding you in. Then his hands travelled down, lower, and your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as you felt his cock press against your entrance.

“Fuck.” You whispered, and he was strangely quiet. You blinked, and looked down at him, and you’d never seen such a pained look on his face. His lips parted, eyes heavy and slitted as he looked down at where his cock rubbed up and down like he was in a trance, slowly nudging your clit and getting himself wetter, tip glistening in the dim light.

Desperate for friction, you started rocking your hips, aching for him to push inside of you.

“Not just yet.” He breathed, voice strung-out and insane. “I won’t make you wait much longer, baby.”

“Please. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me fucking beg.”

Usually, you’d see a sly smile appear on his face, but he just pressed his eyes closed as if the thought was going to send him over the edge. It was the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. Then, finally, you felt his cock catch at your entrance, and slowly press inside. You gasped at the pressure, at the size of him, and he was barely even moving.

“That’s it, baby.” He breathed. “I’m right here.”

He shifted his hips a little, and you clawed at his back, nails digging in until he hissed, rocking your hips to beg for more. You didn't want him holding back, not when you'd waited months for this. You strained your neck lifting it from the bed to whisper in his ear.

“I meant what I said, Coryo. Don’t be fucking nice.”

It was as if something in him snapped. Like he was holding on by a single thread, and you’d send him spiralling out of control. His hips jerked forward and you cried out as he filled you to the hilt, then rocked into you again, picking up a pace that was almost punishing. You tasted it, still wet on your lips, clung to your skin, and now, deep inside you.

Danger.

“So fucking pretty. Does my pretty girl need to get fucked, huh? Just like that?”

You could barely form words, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further, feeling pinned open and beautifully used. Your cries melted together in your head until you could only understand bits and pieces, and as he fucked you, unrelenting, you felt your back slide up the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure they must’ve drawn blood. His forehead pressed against yours,

For a second, he slowed, looking down at you.

“That okay?” He muttered.

You nodded, frantic, barely there.

“Yeah.”

He sped up again and your legs grew weak. He reached his free hand down to grab hold of your thigh and push it higher, the new angle making you see stars, clenching around him impossibly tight.

“Good fucking girl.”

At some point, as you exchanged fewer words and more heated glances, you felt your hand slip from his back and come to rest against over his on your thigh, to hold it in place. He took it in stride, taking it in his, fingers interlacing as his thumb brushed yours.

You didn’t think much of it. How could you? Not when he was stretching the walls of your cunt as you gripped him like a vice. Not when you could barely hear the words coming from either of your mouths. But oddly, it was the gentle contrast that pushed you to the edge as he fucked into you just like you’d asked, hard and unrelenting, mean.

Despite it all, it was the thumb that brushed yours that had moans spilling from your mouth as you both took exactly what you wanted from each other. It sparked something in you, something that let you know you were safe here, that there weren’t any walls between you anymore, no twisted games that wouldn’t benefit you both equally.

“I’m close.” You gasped as his cool blue eyes spilled into yours, and you knew he was all yours.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? I can feel it.”

You nodded silently, muscles in our thighs tensing around his back, the hand that was twisted into yours now falling onto the bed beside you. He gripped it tighter, and fucked you harder, with a point to prove. When your eyes slid shut in ecstasy, right on the edge of falling apart, he squeezed your hand, palms hot and clammy against each other just like the rest of you.

“Look at me, baby.” He urged, fighting for breath. “You’re so fucking close, I need – shit – need to see you when you cum for me.”

It wasn’t hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them on him when he looked like that, like he was carved by the fucking gods, brow scrunched and shining with sweat, eyes bluer than ever, lips parted in an o shape. It was the prettiest sight you’d seen, and your hand tensed around his when you came, trembling like a leaf, mouth parting in a shout you barely heard, eyes focused on him, only him as he fucked you through it.

"Fuck, that's it, doll. Like that? Right fucking there?"

You cried out in response, and as you spilled apart, you heard your name slip past his lips through your ringing ears , followed by a string of curses, each one filthier than the next, not letting up once as he followed you over the edge, hips stuttering as you felt warmth fill your walls and his head fall down onto the pillow beside yours.

A few moments passed as you let the feeling wash over you, feeling the wonderfully sore, sticky mess between your thighs after he pulled out. You heard him catch his breath, then tumble onto his back by your side. You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, then at him, and with a smile realised he’d been looking at you.

“Like what you see?” You echoed. He smiled, coy.

“You know I do, beautiful.”

You sighed, satisifed.

“Keep calling me beautiful, Snow, and I might start thinking you want to fuck me.” You teased. “Wouldn’t want to give a girl the wrong idea.”

He laughed, bright and loud. A few more seconds passed, and you hummed.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little annoyed I didn’t get to ride you.”

He swallowed then smiled, almost awe-like, transfixed. It was a feeling that you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks, but it felt new this time. Different.

“You’re not done?”

“Are you?”

He glanced at your lips, then back up again, voice earnest.

“Not with you, sweetheart.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Good. Then lay back. Head on the pillow for me.”

He obliged, blonde curls spilling over the fabric. You liked it when he grew his hair out a little, you thought as you hooked a leg over his waist. His hands came up to touch you, but you pressed his wrists back into the mattress.

“No touching, Coryo. You hear me?”

He nodded, eyes darkening again, and you lowered your head to kiss him, deep and slow. Felt yourself meld into him with a smile as his cock hardened against your thigh.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the white rose he'd given you, discarded haphazardly on the wooden floor.

And something inside you just knew, you’d never get bored of this.

a/n: hope you liked it. thank you again for the love and for screaming along with me this whole time <33

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[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quotes

Y/n: Do you want to be the Sun in my life?

Snow: Yes.

Y/n: Good, then stay 92,935,700 miles away from me :)

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