#coriolanus drabble

[slaymitchabernathy]

Cruel Intentions

| based off the man requests i have gotten for a new arranged marriage series!!! |

Coriolanus often wonders how he missed it. How it slipped his mind, how he was so naive, so stupid to miss it.

He thinks back to their wedding day, how sweet she was, how well behaved and perfect she was. To him, it made total sense, she was perfect because he deserved someone perfect, someone to devote their life to making him happy.

After all, Snow lands on top.

So he gave her his last name, slipped the ring on her finger, smiled for the photos, cut the cake, and whisked her away to his penthouse that would forever be her home.

The ring on his finger now feels like a ball and chain and he wants nothing more than to rip it off and toss it into the trash.

Three months ago Coriolanus Snow married Soarynn Nightingale. It was an arranged marriage, nothing new in the Capitol's elite circles who intended on keeping their circles small and exclusive. Why risk your son or daughter marrying out of their tax bracket when you can just arrange the whole thing?

Coriolanus met Soarynn at a dinner with both their parents, or well, his parents and her father. Apparently, her mother tragically passed away during childbirth, leaving Glen Nightingale with a baby girl and not a clue as to how to raise her. But he did good, he raised a polite, quiet, submissive daughter who conformed to all societal norms without the blink of an eye.

She was perfect.

Or so he thought.

The more he thinks about it, the more the signs become so obvious. Glen's eagerness to get the show on the road, how quiet Soarynn always was, how they never went on a date alone despite him being twenty-five and her being twenty. Coriolanus had brushed it off, his parents didn't want to risk a failed marriage so they were simply making sure that everything went as perfectly as possible.

Soarynn was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, with dazzling eyes and luscious hair. She put other women to shame with her natural beauty. She dressed impeccably for someone her age and always used her manners when they were in public. Which was a good thing considering that Coriolanus was an aspiring politician who could not afford a bad reputation.

So when it came time to propose, he had no hesitation. He went out and bought a beautiful, expensive ring and slipped it on her finger without batting an eye.

Like a lamb to the fucking slaughter.

Their wedding was huge, it wasn't every day two prominent families became one. Everyone in the Capitol tuned in to watch their wedding and all their friends were there to witness the exchanging of vows.

Soarynn had been all sweet smiles and blushing cheeks, curling into him the moment too much attention landed in her lap. She had looked stunning in her wedding dress, it had been classy yet flattering for her figure, once again solidifying that he made the right choice in marrying Soarynn.

Once the wedding was over, he took her home and prepared to take her virginity, something every man planned for and every woman somewhat dreaded. He had been prepared to be gentle yet stern, she'd have to know who was the dominant party in their relationship.

She let him get the both of them undressed, on the bed and just as he was about to sink into her, she sunk her claws into him.

Soarynn was a fucking thorn in his side.

Coriolanus was quick to find out that the pretty quiet girl he thought he married was only like that in public. Behind closed doors, she gave him a run for his money. It had truly surprised him and the worst part was, no one would believe him if he told anyone. To everyone who knew her, Soarynn was so pliant, so sweet and willing to please.

He knows that he vowed to stand by her side no matter what but this has been a true testament to their marriage and they're only three months in. But he can't give up now, no, he has to push through, be strong and break her into the woman he wants her to be.

Right now she looks as innocent as ever, laughing with his mother across the room, sipping her tea. That little liar. Coriolanus looks at the man next to him who happens to be his father-in-law and wonders if Glen Nightingale is aware of the little fucking tyrant his daughter really is.

Soarynn should really consider becoming an actress based on the performance she's given everyone, including him. He was the dumbest audience member, drinking up every second of her lies.

"So when can we be expecting grandchildren?" His father asks him, causing his throat to dry up. Coriolanus has barely had time to think about children with his current campaign for President but he knows that children are expected with marriage, and sooner than possible. He can't imagine having children with Soarynn right now, they barely even have sex.

Despite her undesirable attitude towards him, Coriolanus wasn't going to let anything keep him from what was rightfully his. Sex was the one thing they could agree on. He only partook in sex when he needed to put her in her place, fucking her until she was screaming into the pillows.

It wasn't the most effective method, unfortunately. It would keep her quiet and put her in her place for about a day before she sparked back up and then he'd have to do it all over again. Coriolanus never thought he'd live in a time when sex felt like a chore but Soarynn really did bring out the worst in him.

"Soon," is all he says, watching his wife place her hand on top of his mother's. It's even worse because his mother loves Soarynn, she adores that girl like she's her own daughter. His father is more reserved in showing affection in general but Coriolanus can see it in his eyes that he's pleased with this union between them.

To his father, this is a successful business deal.

To Coriolanus, it's a punishment from an unknown source.

"How has she been doing?" Glen asks him, sipping his drink, "I know she was a bit nervous to move out." Coriolanus wants to roll his eyes at Glen's naivety but he too was once a fool who believed Soarynn's little act, "She's good," he tells Glen, offering him a tight-lipped smile, "it's been an adjustment for the both of us." The understatement of the fucking century but who's counting?

Glen nods, pleased that this has been going so well, "Ah good, I worried for the longest time that she wouldn't find someone, she's just so shy." She's also a fucking minx but what Glen doesn't know about his daughter won't hurt him.

It'll only hurt Coriolanus.

꧁ ꧂

Later that night the young Snow couple returns to their penthouse apartment and the act is dropped the second Soarynn steps through the door. "Keep your hands to yourself next time," she snaps, glaring up at him, "I'm not your fucking dog."

Coriolanus gave up on trying to be nice to her about a week into their marriage, "Well you certainly act like a little bitch," he shoots back, enjoying how her face falls. It's a battle of wits between the two of them and to his dismay, they're very well matched.

Soarynn is sharp and quick, never giving him too much time to recover from her little jabs. But Coriolanus sleeps well knowing that at the end of the day, she belongs to him.

"I'm not the one with my tail between my legs whenever we're around our parents," she says, walking down the hallway with haste. Coriolanus is right on her heels because she has no idea what he has to worry about on a daily basis. Soarynn spends her days shopping with friends and going to social events. She doesn't lift a fucking finger and yet she loves to show him her middle one.

He grabs her arm and pulls her back until they're face to face and he's fuming, "Fix your fucking attitude," he hisses, "before I fix it for you." If Soarynn was who she pretended to be, she'd be cowering in front of him with tears in her eyes, begging for forgiveness.

But she's not.

She smirks and tilts her head in the most sinister way possible, "What're you gonna do? Fuck me again? You know, you can't solve all of your problems by sticking your cock in me. One of these days you're going to have to actually grow a pair Coriolanus."

He's seething now, he'd never hit a woman but boy does she tempt him. "You belong to me," he says through gritted teeth, "and as my wife, your main priority should be to make me happy, not fucking miserable."

Soarynn rips her arm away from his grip, glaring up at him with her stormy blue eyes, "I don't belong to anyone," she spits out, "especially you."

Coriolanus watches her walk down the hall, furious and defeated at the same time.

He needs to get her under control, but how?

꧁ ꧂

"It's simple," Festus says, leaning over the table, "stop giving her what she wants."

Coriolanus feels terribly lost. He had come to his good friend Festus Creed for advice about his marriage since Festus actually believes his tales about Soarynn's behavior but now he's starting to wonder if he really is doomed.

"I don't give her anything," he claims and Festus shakes his head. "You keep giving her the reactions she's looking for," he explains, "she wants you to get upset, so you get upset. She wants you to doubt yourself and then you go ahead and doubt yourself. Stop reacting to her behavior and then you can correct it."

Coriolanus sits there dumbfounded, for once, Festus might be right.

Soarynn is clearly acting this way on purpose, to evoke a response, and one of these days if he's not careful, he's going to snap in public and then he will be the bad guy.

"Stop giving her what she wants and she'll be on her knees in no time," Festus promises, "it's reverse psychology."

Well, it's worth a shot.

꧁ ꧂

When Coriolanus comes home later that day, he doesn't go to find Soarynn like he usually does. Mostly because all he'll get in return is a glare and a scoff. Soarynn has made it very clear to him that she wants nothing to do with him unless they're in public. Behind closed doors, they stay apart, go their separate ways until it's time for bed.

He goes to his study instead, figuring he might as well prepare for his interview on Sunday. The Capitol News is interviewing all of the candidates running in the race and this will be a good time for him to gain some new supporters. He spends a few hours holed up in his study, going over questions, coming up with new, clever answers.

He still has time to go over anything with his advisors but he feels much better now that he knows what to expect. He glances at the clock on his desk and is shocked to see that it's well past dinner time. They usually have dinner together if he's home although they rarely speak and sit on opposite ends of the table.

Very domestic.

He considers getting up and going to the dining room to join her but decides against it, calling the maid to bring his dinner to him instead so he can do some more work.

It's nearing eight o'clock when he's disturbed by a soft knock at the door. "Come in," he says, still looking down at the papers in front of him. The door slowly opens and he hears her soft voice, "When did you get home?"

"Around one," he answers, not even looking at her.

"Oh."

Coriolanus resists the urge to grin, he might need to kiss Festus on the forehead because he's a genius for this idea.

"Did you need something?" He asks, flipping to the next page casually, "No," she says, "no I didn't need anything."

Coriolanus grunts, "Close the door behind you then."

He doesn't see her face but he can tell how his dismissing her makes her feel. Soarynn closes the door behind her and he listens to her quick receding footsteps.

Coriolanus finally breaks into a grin, it'll be a slow process to break Soarynn down but he's willing to put in the effort.

It's all about moves and countermoves.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus dives deep into his strategy of being cold and distant towards Soarynn. He doesn't speak to her unless absolutely necessary or if they're in public. He keeps himself busy with work and locked away in his study whenever he's home and refrains from taking any bait she lays out for him.

It's working tremendously well for him. Soarynn has been much more quiet and a lot more drawn back since he started acting this way. In public she's sweet but he can tell that she's desperate for the smallest touch he can offer her. But the second they're back home, he doesn't even look at her.

She did this to herself really, he's not the one to blame.

He's officially two months out from the election and the polls are in his favor. For now, though, something could always change as his advisors love to remind him. His mother is over the moon for his success and his father for once, seems genuinely proud of him. Running for President hasn't been an easy feat but he's doing exceptionally well if he says so himself.

He's getting ready for a charity dinner tonight, anything to show face and shake hands. Soarynn is coming with him to show support for her husband and he's got her in the palm of his hand.

He checks his reflection in the mirror one last time, making sure that his curls look perfect and that his tie is straight. The press will be there and he needs to be prepared for any questions they might ask him.

He can hear a small struggle ensuing in their bathroom and looks through the doors to see Soarynn struggling with the zipper of her dress. He sighs, he's been doing an excellent job of remaining cold and withdrawn so far but the small, hopeful part of him knows he should help her. After all, he is her husband.

He steps into the bathroom and she immediately tenses, watching him through the mirror, "Need some help?" He nods at the back of her dress and she looks unsure as to whether or not this is some sort of trap.

She finally nods, "Yes," she says softly.

Coriolanus walks up to her and rests one hand on her back while the other pulls the zipper up with ease. "Thank you," she says, turning to face him. He can see it in her eyes how lonely she is, despite having lots of friends and visiting her father, she's lonely in this big apartment when it's just the two of them. At least when they were arguing she could talk to someone.

"Tonight is very important," he tells her, ignoring her gratitude, "best behavior tonight." He walks out before she can say anything else, it's better this way.

It's better this way.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @kickmybark @villiansarehottest @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee |

[julietsbody]

innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

���˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

[corioswife]

hey, bestie! I love your writing, it's just a chef kiss mwah! If I can request a fic! Imagine the reader being kinda of a femme fatale, and popular with her peers because of her beauty. -Coriolanus develops a puppy crush on her when he sees her in the halls, but one day the reader notices him, and talks to him, and after that, he's lovestruck and slowly becomes obsessed with her. Leaving cute notes and flowers at her locker and letters. The rest of the story, you can control and write.

The reader is like Jennifer from Jennifer's body but ignore the succubus part.

thank you love, i love this req sm! 🎀 i tried my best to capture everything as my fics aren’t usually too long !! nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable

Coriolanus Snow x Femme Fatal!Reader

Coriolanus Snow, the undeniably charming student at Capitol University, couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He was smitten with your beauty and the alluring way you carried yourself, captivating everyone with your grace and presence.

As the days passed, Coriolanus grew bolder and began leaving cute notes and flowers at your locker, hoping to catch your attention. His heart raced every time he thought of you, and he found himself losing focus during classes, consumed by thoughts of you.

One day, you finally notice him. He's sitting alone in the library, head buried in a book, looking oh-so-adorable. You walk up to him, feeling the weight of your beauty and charm, and strike up a conversation.

You engage in a casual conversation with him, unaware of the effect you're having on him. The more you talk, the more infatuated he becomes. His heart races, and he struggles to maintain eye contact as his thoughts wander towards intimate scenarios involving the two of you.

As the conversation continues, You sense something different about Coriolanus. His eyes are brighter, his voice is softer, and he seems a bit flustered. You sense his longing and desire, and a spark of curiosity ignites within you.

You continue to engage with him, teasing and flirting, unaware of the depth of his affection for you. As the conversation deepens, so does his passion, and he finds himself struggling to keep his desires in check.

Coriolanus is on the verge of confessing his feelings for you, but something holds him back. He wants to express his love, but is too shy and self-conscious. He's torn between his desire for you and his fear of rejection.

Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you start to feel a strange connection with him. His shyness and hesitation only serve to heighten your curiosity about him. As the conversation winds down, you find yourself wanting more from this enigmatic individual who has captured your attention so thoroughly.

Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you start to feel a strange connection with him. His shyness and hesitation only serve to heighten your curiosity about him. As the conversation winds down, you find yourself wanting more from this enigmatic individual who has captured your attention so thoroughly.

As the night comes to a close, Coriolanus finally finds the courage to confess his feelings for you. His voice trembles slightly as he tries to find the words to express himself, but finally, he blurts out, " I'm in love with you. "

You stare at Coriolanus, barely able to believe what you're hearing. You are deeply moved by his honesty and vulnerability, and you find yourself falling for him even deeper.

" I'm falling for you too " you whisper, your heart racing in anticipation of what might come next. As the two of you stand there in the silence of the night, you realize that your lives have just irrevocably changed.

The two of you embrace, your bodies pressing together as you share a tender kiss. You can feel the heat and desire radiating off of him, and you know that this moment will be one you'll cherish forever.

" My room is just upstairs " Coriolanus whispers into your ear. His voice is hoarse with desire, and you can't help but shiver at the thought of what might happen next.

As the two of you make your way upstairs, the anticipation and desire building within you both is almost unbearable. The door to your room closes behind you, and the two of you are finally alone together.

Coriolanus kisses you deeply, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth as his hands roam over your body. Heat surges through you as he pushes you against the door, pinning you there with his strength and desire.

You moan into the kiss, arching your back against him. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, needing more of his touch. The feeling of his skin against yours is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.

As if he's reading your mind, Coriolanus's hands begin to explore the most intimate parts of your body. His fingers dance over your sensitive skin, teasing and tantalizing until you're ready to beg for more.

Finally, Coriolanus moves his mouth from your lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as his fingers continue their journey. You gasp and arch your neck into his mouth, wanting more of his touch. This is a feeling unlike anything you've ever known before.

You gasp as Coriolanus undoes his pants, freeing his aching erection. He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly positions against your entrance.

" Please " you whisper, your voice trembling with need. " I want you. "

Coriolanus pulls back, only to thrust forcefully inside you, hitting your sweet spot with a force that steals your breath.

His fingers digging into your hips, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that drives you to the brink.

" Come for me " he demands. Your body shudders, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your name, a moaned plea, falls from his lips as he feels your walls clenching around him.

" Coriolanus... " You whisper his name, your voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. He groans, his body shuddering as he releases himself into you, filling you completely.

[diorchids]

ALL YOUR INNOCENCE, CORIOLANUS SNOW.

cw: reader is a virg, PRAISE, taking virg, peacekeeper!snow, p in v

nsfw ahead !

coriolanus hated the hob. unless you were there. the drunkard's smell filled the place up while coriolanus and sejanus bantered over small things. peacekeepers get a few nights off, they have to make it last.

his favorite part was you. you’d be with all of your friends, bow in your hair swaying every which way when everyone was boot stompin’, this was the ideal night for you. different men trying to feel you up or talk to you made you even less engaged in the show and more so in the drinks.

you’d scrapped up your last bit of change for your drink, but it still wasn’t enough. “still not enough, sorry,” the bartender offered a pity smile before shuffling away to serve other patrons.

coriolanus had been watching you, your pretty face being the only thing left to entertain him on those cold, uneventful nights. 

you were surprised, to say the least when he walked to the bar and put a few dollars on the counter for the tender to see, “that should cover it.” his tall frame behind you, practically towering over you. 

the bartender hands you your drink before you look up at coriolanus, “thank you, sir.” and he shudders at the sudden eye contact. “my pleasure, ‘s on the house.” a quick smile creeps onto his face. you waltz back over to your friends, drink in hand. 

he stares across the crowd just to see you. this was your first time seeing him outside of his full peacekeeper attire, but he had seen you multiple times. on reaping day, outside of the hob, at the hanging tree. the way tears rolled down your face each time the criminals were strung up made him realize just how innocent you are.

you shuffle away to a room toward the back of the hob, trying to find a friend who had wandered off. he follows narrowly behind you like you’re his prey, like his princess. you notice him behind you, startled by his presence. “s’ just me. you’re good, princess.” he examines you, so small under him.

“ – thank you, again. i can get the money back, sir.” you furrow your brows, feeling scrutinized, “promise.” 

his lips curve softly into a closed-mouth smile, “my pleasure, princess.” his eyes move all over your small frame. your fingers fiddle with the end of your dress, your lower thigh being put on display for him as you look up. he can’t help but wonder how innocent you are, how much he just wanted to protect you. 

your pouty lips only add to his need for you, his need to treat you like his princess. you guys can’t help but just stare at each other, his eyes piercing straight into you. 

he snaps out of his trance, eyes finally moving away from you. he gives a courtesy smile before pivoting right back to the crowd's direction. “gotta get back, princess, hm?” he says while walking back into the common, crowded area. 

you practically forget about the encounter half an hour later, but coriolanus still eyes you from his seat next to sejanus. “ – desperate,” sejanus says, swishing his drink around in his cup. “you’re desperate.” 

the crowd is still compact, you move through safely aside from unwanted touches everywhere and catcalls. you stumble before bumping into coriolanus, “watch where you’re goin’, could hurt yourself, princess.” he coos into your ear, leaning down to reach your ear. 

you look up at him before touching his shoulder, eye contact strong. “sorry.” your fingers touching his wrist before grabbing it, and dragging him onto the floor. he touches your waist briefly before gripping the other side. “too loud, let’s go to the back, hm?” you smile and nod eagerly before he leads you to the hallway you previously had an encounter in. “now, what’s your name, doll?” he asks you, finger trailing up your arm. you tell him, not being able to hold back from answering.

you wait for his words, only getting a hand cradling and stroking your jaw. “what a doll.” he coos onto your skin. your eyes almost make his legs buckle when you look at his lips. he examines you with a certain look while he caresses your cheek softly. you can’t help but kiss him, but he kisses back passionately. his hands roam your body, fingers gripping softly around your neck. he had never been this close. 

“don’t want you back out there, ‘kay?” you nod as he leads you into a room with nothing but a small cot and a table. he kisses you ferociously while his hands softly graze over your skin, not wanting to break you. “what’s your name?” you ask him, and he answers, “coriolanus – snow.” hesitating to finish the name.

he looks at you for confirmation before running his finger up your dress and along your lace panties. “god, i mean, you’re just teasin’ me. huh, doll?” finger touching your clothed clit. your hand curves around his clothed bulge, and he bucks his hips into your hands quickly.

“never done this, never got this far.” you whisper into his ear while you hook your finger onto his pants. “good, that’s good, i’ll show you,” he whispered to you before kissing you again, the cut on his top lip serving as a reminder of his occupation. what he does to people. yet he can only think to protect you.

he lays you down softly on the table, standing between either of your legs. “can i see it? please?” you beg while he caresses your thigh, dress ridden up to your stomach. he complies, nodding while he unbuckles his belt. pulling his pants down to reveal his clothed cock with a wet patch, hunched over while he palms himself through his boxers, earning a groan.

you look up at him with your innocent eyes, waiting for him to do something. he pulls his cock out of his boxers, it springing up and leaking with pre cum. he ruts his cock against your clothed clit, large hands gripping your waist as you pout. 

“gonna make you feel good, ‘kay, doll?” he says, pulling down your panties. “‘s not gonna fit. gonna break you.” his tip prodding at your wet entrance. his tip makes you wince when he even tries to stick it inside of your wet cunt. you shudder and grip his arm, “it will, won’t hurt me just put it all in.” you say, so needy for his fat cock in you, wanting him to take away all of your innocence. 

“ready, princess? ‘s gonna hurt.” he furrows his eyebrows as he waits for your confirmation. you nod before he pushes his fat cock deep into you. your eyes water and you whine when his tip forces its way into your tight cunt. his gaze meets yours while he slowly pushes in, inch by inch getting more engrossed into you.

you mewl and cry as he moves his hips back and forth, barely thrusting. “told you, doll, it’s gonna hurt.” his thumb running over your lips when he speeds up, getting more length inside of you. he loves to know he’s doing this to you. do you know how many times he’s even thought of this? being able to break you open?

“ – m’ okay,” you hiss. “gonna push it all in, ‘kay?” he cranes his neck to see your eyes, making sure you know. he places his hands on either of your hips, lightly caressing them before sliding far inside of you, eliciting a groan from him and cries from you. you whine and tears run down your face when you smile at him. “tsk, so pretty.” his cock now sliding in and out of your tight cunt that grips him perfectly.

your lower half shakes uncontrollably under his cock. “so pretty, hm, doll? takin’ it good. first time for everything.” you turn into an incoherent mess when his cock brushes up against that spongy spot. he can tell you’re almost there. his hands press all over your back, pulling you closer to him. “feel it comin’, feel it in my stomach.” you say. he nods, taking in your words.

your cunt grips coriolanus perfectly, making sure to attend to every vein and suck every drop of pre cum out of him. he thrusts passionately, hips finding a rhythm to pleasure you with. you look up at him with those big, pretty eyes and whine every time.

“ – can’t take it– can’t take it anym–more.” your legs shake before your stomach tightens up completely. he sets his warm thumb on your clit, rubbing it lazily. “c’mon, princess. scream for me. tell me how good this feels for your first time.” you cum hard around his cock, spasming harshly. 

you can barely form a coherent sentence when you cum all around him, his lips smashing yours, juices spilling all over the table and floor. “ – s–so g–good.” you try to say as drool pools at the corners of your mouth.

juices fall from your cunt as he takes this as an opportunity to speed up again, pushing deep inside of you as you dig your nails deep into his arms. “almost d–done, princess.” he groans. 

his cock twitches before his balls tighten up at the sight of you. so pretty, completely cock-drunk, crying from him. you can barely look at him. 

“gonna take it all, take all of me, princess.” he wraps his arms around your torso before cumming deep inside of you. his cock continues to twitch as it gets covered in his cum, making sure to fuck it deep inside of your cunt. tears flow freely down your face when his cum gets pushed into you. “can’t – can’t do it anymore. stomach…” you taper off before you cum again, your mixed juices falling onto the floor beneath you. 

coriolanus still thrusts, just slower and more tame. he delivers sloppy kisses all over your face, letting you know how proud he is of you. “did so well. took me so well for your first time, princess.” he nods to make sure you know how perfectly you did.

“hurts, hurts real bad, coryo.” he hisses at the sudden nickname.

“i know, i know, doll.” he coos while rubbing your back.

he smiles knowing you’re his now, you’re his girl.

um im gonna watch tbosas again

[tonixe]

Hiya babes hope you’re doing well I’ve had this idea for a young Coriolanus Snow where he’s fresh into his presidency and runs into a maid in his room putting his clothes away. He thinks it’s just some avox but it turns out to be and old classmate (she was in the grade a year younger than but he’d seen her passing in the halls and she came from quite a respectable lineage). He becomes infatuated by her and why she’s working for him and not living some life of luxury, it becomes months worth of cat and mouse where Coryo tries to buy her love with gifts and she tries to stay strong. But finally she gives in and they start an affair (he isn’t married it’s just he wouldn’t want to be caught dead having a relationship with a servant girl). Normal he just tells her he wants to see her and that night they do an assortment of nefarious things, but one night he asked her to say instead of kicking her out like he usually does. She thrown off by this and after a little hesitancy she agrees.

So that’s all I really have feel free to make the rest up, but also don’t feel obligated to write about this it’s just something that’s come to my mind. I didn’t mean for this to be so long sorry. Love you loads hope you have the best of days and I hope you’ll find inspiration from this prompt. Okay kisses and hugs this is me signing off.

— Dirty little secret

WARNING: Unprotected sex, implied mudpie, fingering, implied affair, groping.

PAIRING: President!Coriolanus Snow x maid!reader

WORD COUNTER: 1.8k

Days for Coriolanus seemed to tick on longer than he bargained after getting elected and inaugurated to the office of Panem. Being the President of Panem wasn't a joke, nor did it have any time to just sit around, he was a busy man with a country behind him and leading the future of his people and generations. It was tiring for him, sometimes he would just accidentally sleep in his office rather than go to his bedroom. After piles of documents and papers were placed on his desk, finding more time to complete them if he locked himself away in his office.

On top of that, he had to make speeches and host future events. He just didn't have any time for self-pleasure with all the work on his desk, but he was dutiful and a studious worker. He did his usual routine after finalizing some paperwork and handing it off to his secretary to press. Dragging his feet against the delicate and pleasant tiles, tiredness drowned his vision, as he opened the door of his chamber spotting a dainty maid in his room. Your eyes widen at the sight of the President in front of you, immediately bowing down, before lifting your head slightly up. "Mr. President, I was just delivering your clothes" You curtsy at him, Coriolanus originally thought you were just an avox until you spoke, but now a mere maid hired by his secretary but once he got a glimpse of your face, a flash of simple memory ran through his mind. You started taking steps away from him trying to get away from the brewing tension, "Stop" You turned your body to him, looking at him with your full attention.

The sounds of the heel of his shoes on the bedroom flooring, feeling his soft hands on your jaw, slowly lifting your head up, taking in the scene of you. You held your breath as he simply inspected you, feeling your heart pumping against your chest. His azure eyes stared into your own, for a moment..before he withdrew his hands away from you. "You may go" he finished, you watched as he turned his body away from you before you scurried out of the bedroom.

But Coriolanus couldn't help but look back at you as you ran away, the sense of familiarity when he saw you was haunting his head. He pondered about it, putting his hand underneath his chin as he thought about you. The passing days were just Coriolanus watching you as you worked around the manor, his eyes never leaving your form. He managed to gather some information on you, by looking through your files, after all, he is the President of Panem it's his job to know everything, right?

His hands flipped through the dainty white pages, your headshot on the first page as he read through the private information, finding out that you were from Capitol blood, and ended up in the depths of middle class maybe even lower instead of luxury. Curiosity filled his mind about you, questions flowing through his mind with no answer to them. "What really are you..Y/N" he whispered under his breath, examining the photo of you. Most of these days were now mostly spent with him staring at you doing chores around the household, hanging up laundry, washing clothes, and cleaning the floors.

He likes how you laugh and smile when talking to your co-workers while you work. Every time he sees your smile, it makes some of his problems melt away, if he is stressed, he completely forgets what he was stressed about. He would purposely order you to his room to clean or arrange something in his office. Over a few months passing, he would continue asking for you, so adding little gifts and necklaces. For you, it was a surprise, certainly. Who expects the President of Panem to gift a simple maid a luxurious, expensive necklace, priced at a high price, more than you get paid. So you would send them off, at first you were confused thinking it was a mistake he sent the luxurious package to you, then it was sent back to you, this time a different gift, more beautiful and elegant. So you sent it back again, he began to be more curious and furious why you didn't keep and accept the gifts he sent, were they too ugly, an eyesore or indifferent to you.

So he orders you to his room...

It was the middle of the night, being pulled out of the servant quarters by the headmistress, ordering you to serve Coriolanus, and you obeyed. Your body is still engulfed in your flimsy nightgown and your flats on the floor of the manor, as you walk down the hallways. You opened the door to Coriolanus still in his attire, leaning on the bedframe. His eyes darted at you. "Mr. President, you requested of me" You held your hands together, looking him in the eyes. You hear his footsteps inching closer to you, his hands on his hips, "Do you hate them?" he asked, his eyes never leaving your frame, cocking your eyebrow, confused about what he was asking you.

"Hate, what, Sir?" you questioned, "The gifts" he walked closer to you, "Do you hate them, Y/N?" he looked at you, his eyes attentively staring at your own e/c. You felt sweat pending up on the palm of your hand as you began to clear your throat, "No—I just thought you sent them by mistake, sir" You said, you looked away from him, feeling flustered at how close he was to you. 'Y/n, do you think I'm an idiot to send something three things to the same person?" He gently lifted up your chin, making direct eye contact with you. "N-no, sir!" You exclaimed, "Then why, my sweet dove?' he questioned, "What have I done to deserve them" You mumbled,

"Every time I saw you, you have been pulling the strings to my heart..." He whispered, his deep voice resonating through your body, sending chills down your spine, you were hesitant to respond to him. The few moments of silence were unbearable, it felt like his eyes were tracking your every move. "Would it, not be improper for you to date a servant woman like me?" You murmur, and he immediately takes your face into his hands, "I will trade all of Panem just to have you in my arms" You parted your lips, staring at him in shock. Before he took your lips, kissing you. His hands touched against your skin, making you whine, his fingers slowly taking off the strings of your sheer nightgown. Immediately the cold air hits your bare skin making you moan, his hand trailing against your sides. He withdrew from your lips, his eyes clouded with lust, his pupils dilated. "W-we can't", looking away from him in embarrassment, trying to cover yourself up from his gaze.

He picked you up by your thighs, immediately putting your arms around his neck. He carried you towards the bed, dropping you onto the mattress, you instantly tried to cover yourself until he ripped your hands away as he stared at you beneath him. He took off your panties, slowly, his eyes staring at your slick coating your panties off, making you flustered. He started taking off his belt, you watched as he took his trousers off along with his boxers. His length springs out, pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock, feeling yourself getting wet underneath him. His eyes were heavy with lust, impatiently to have you, taste you, and fuck you.

He slowly inserts himself into you, a moan being ripped out of your throat, holding him by his biceps. "Itis' too big" you groaned. You tried to adjust yourself around his cock, you bit the bottom of your lip simmering the pain. Before he started moving, his pelvis smacked into your cunt as your breast bounced in impact.

You pushed your head back in pleasure as he forced himself into you, he groaned into your ear. "You're taking me so well, dove" he whispered, kissing your collarbone. The sound of wet skin clapping resonating around the bedroom, his hands moving around your body, rubbing the nipples of your breast, moaning in response. "Your so warm" he groaned, moving his hips against you, you felt yourself inching near your release.

He place your leg onto his shoulder, moving your body to the side as he thrusted inside, feeling his cock deeper inside you.

His hand groped your breast, abusing your nipples as he plunged into you deeper. Before feeling yourself coming undone, squeezing down on his cock. "Fuck" he groaned, pushing himself into you. His fingers trailing down onto your pelvis, he rubbed your clit, making you whine. Breathy moans echoed from your lips, and you looked through your lashes at him. Your walls massaging his cock, his thrust getting faster and into an animalistic pace.

His groans became frantic, as he fucked himself into you, before he pulled out and cummed onto your stomach, the white sticky load coating your body. Feeling your legs shaking, and your chest heaving. Staring at him, tiredness in your eyes.

"You did so good, dove," he said, kissing the corner of your neck.

Soon this moment happened time and time again, mostly during the nights when everyone was gone or sleeping away. He would call for you, knowing what would happen at the end of every night, you on his bed either coated with his cum or filled with it. Usually leaving before anyone can get suspicious of you and Coriolanus. Always wearing a nightgown, Coriolanus purchase for you. Looking into the mirror with the rich, satin fabric on your body, hugging your curves and bosom.

He would surprise you with special things mostly material things but you were grateful for them.

He would buy luxurious lingerie and jewelry for you. You were getting ready to meet Coriolanus as he called for you again, wearing the special red lingerie underneath nightgown, you obeyed. Walking down to his chambers, in the end, the precious lingerie was ripped and your nightgown on the floor stained with cum. His hands on your waist as he thrusted into you, he was close and you were already done and tired. His hands explored you, before he spilled himself into you. Pulling himself out of you, your legs were shaking, holding yourself up. Feeling him leaving a kiss on your cheek, he put himself into his pants.

You walked towards your discarded nightgown, taking ahold of the material, and slipping it on. There was a moment of silence between you and Coriolanus. Getting yourself busy, fixing the fabric of the nightgown, pulling it down carefully.

"Wait, Y/N" you turned around at him, "Yes, Corio" you responded, he loved it when you used that nickname with him, he walked forward to you, "Stay" he paused for a minute, "Stay with me for the night" He finishes, your eyes slightly widen. "What if, we were caught?" You whispered, "Nobody could come in without my permission, Y/N" he pushed a strand of your loose hair over your ear, "Just stay" he whispered, his hands trailing down to your waist, rubbing them in reassurance. You cleared your throat, putting your hands on his chest, and parting your lips.

"Alright—I will..."

[ficmenrhot]

Possession and Jealousy /drabble/

TW: slightly suggestive content, hickeys, possessive and jealous behaviours

A/N: OMG thanks everyone for the love on my last posts, maybe getting back into writing was the right thing to do :)

This is not smut BUT let’s talk about how possessive and jealous of a man Finnick Odair can be. Finnick Odair who can’t stand it when your attention is on another man for too long, even if that’s just you listening attentively to them talk. Finnick Odair whose eyes searches for you from the other side of the room to make sure you’re well and happy. Finnick Odair who feels a lump in his throat when he sees another man’s body pressed too closely to yours, even if it’s a close friend of yours or a tribute you’re training. Finnick Odair who grasps on his champagne glass so tightly it nearly shatters in his hands when he sees a hungry Capitol citizen staring you down and making you feel uncomfortable at a party. Finnick Odair who glares at oblivious men to tell them you’re taken and holds your waist to show possession. Finnick Odair who kisses you, well knowing that others are watching. Finnick Odair who loves to leave hickeys and love marks on your neck and collarbone.

“Finnick! Look at what you did to my neck,” you’d whine when you see his attack on your skin in the morning, “fuck- my stylist is going to kill me! You’re not a goddamn vampire.”

You’d throw a pillow at Finnick’s smug and smirking face, him laying on your shared bed, happily being scowled at by you.

“Well I think they make you even hotter, honey,” Finnick would wink at you.

At least now the other men in your life would know that you’re taken and that’s all that matters to him.

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[kolsmikaelson]

jealousy looks good on you

cw ; smutty little jealous!coriolanus drabble, public piv sex, 18+

“what the hell was that, huh,” coryo’s hot breath is hitting the shell of your ear from behind. his thick length stretching you beyond what you thought possible. his pace is brutal, but it feels so, so good. “asked you a question. the hell was that back there with sejanus?” his lips, rough against your skin, press hot, desperate kisses to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder.

“nothing! coryo i swear it was nothing.” coriolanus had been getting more and more stressed as the reaping had come and gone and he had to begin preparing lucy gray. he didn’t want to be spending all his time with some girl from twelve, he wanted to be spending it with you, his lovely girlfriend. after a particularly rough night, coryo hadn’t slept much, the hunger in his stomach keeping him awake for a good portion of the night. he couldn’t wait to see you the next morning, only to see you all over sejanus. it was an innocent, friendly gesture. the two of you were talking while waiting on the platinum haired boy and sejanus cracked a joke at the wrong time, causing you to laugh while throwing your head back and smacking his upper arm lightly. coriolanus in his tired, hungry state didn’t take the sight of you two together all that well, dragging you away from a confused sejanus and to a secluded hallway, promptly flipping your skirt up and sliding your panties off of you and straight into his pocket. immediately pulling his cock out and stuffing you full.

“you sure about that,” he speeds his thrusts up, flicking his fingers over your clit. “‘cause it didn’t seem like nothing to me. you’re mine y’know” his thrusts are starting to get sloppier, a sign that he’s reaching his orgasm. “not stupid sejanus’. mine.” he all but growls in your ear. coriolanus brings his free hand up to cover your mouth to keep your moans from wandering ears while fucking into your wet heat harder.

“promise coryo, baby, ‘m yours. don’ want sejanus, only you.” you promise him, already so fucked out. his hips keep rutting against yours, pushing your back against the wall harder as your head falls into the crook of his neck.

“i believe you,” he pants in your ear, “cum, my darling, it’s okay.”

coriolanus fucks your pussy through both yours and his orgasm. “i’m not done with you,” he smirks, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips. “you’ve still got making up to do, darling.” and before you knew it, you were back in coryos room, a chair shoved under the door knob to keep it from opening, on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth.

[risingoftime]

coriolanus snow x fem!reader | smut below mdni

“Coryo, stop teasing,” you whined.

Coriolanus rubbed his tip against your puffy clit. The tingling sensation began to overwhelm you while he continued to stroke your folds with his cock.

“Shhh.” He softly kissed your forehead and leaned his head close to your ear, licking the skin from the base of your neck to your jaw. “You hear that?” he whispered. Before you could respond, Coriolanus slammed his cock into your hole, forcing you to take in all of him with no time to adjust. He spread your legs further apart to give him more access. Coriolanus took his precious time thrusting in and out, and your wet cunt gripped around his length. You cried out his name, pleading for more.

“You sound so pretty, baby. I love to hear you moan my name,” Coriolanus praised.

He pushed himself in more profoundly, hitting your G-spot, “Ahhh Coryo, fuck yes right there.” You could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. When attempting to force him to move faster, Coriolanus removed his hands from your legs to pin your hands above your head on the mattress. “I will fuck you when I want and how I want,” he snarled. And Coriolanus did just that, engulfed in your wet heat and edging himself to orgasm, one stroke at a time.

He kept your wrists pinned down with one hand and took the other to caress your clit. Coriolanus found joy in watching you squirm under his intense stare, waiting to see your eyes roll back when you orgasm. He loved admiring your pussy squirting on his cock even more.

“Tell me that this pussy is mine.”

“It’s all yours.”

You watched in awe as his thick veins pulsed before spouting his cum on your pussy before pumping more inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

[lqveharrington]

Winter Gala | C.S.

summary: Coriolanus’ first winter gala as Panem’s President and your first winter gala as First Lady.

pairing: young, president!coriolanus snow x fem, first lady!reader

includes: literally just fluff and kissing. (and some hints to reader being pregnant.)

a/n: some winter love for my favorite (aka coryo bb)

“Don’t you look gorgeous, my First Lady.” Coriolanus wraps his arms around your waist as you clip your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror.

“You look pretty handsome yourself, Mr. President.” You turn in his arms and lace your own behind his neck, eyes flickering around his face. “First winter gala as the President, Coryo. That’s exciting.”

He lowers his arms down to your hips, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Let’s give them a night to remember.”

You let one hand drift to his lips, wiping some of the lipstick off. “Perfect.”

Truly, everything in the Snow Manor was perfect. The help decorated the walls and halls with the lights you deemed the best, and the cooks made the most delicious foods for those to come eat. There were christmas trees present in almost every room, with waiters holding champagne glasses on silver platers. Coriolanus and yourself made sure everything was perfect for the first winter gala as President of Panem.

All of those who held status in the Capitol were invited, along with the past district mentors whom you both attended classes with. There was press inside and unwanted paparazzi outside, immediately becoming the talk of those who arrived to the manor.

As the Snow manor filled with distinguished guests, you were hooked around Coriolanus’ arm like a beautiful trophy, conversing with only those you wanted to.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Livia.” You give her your best smile, removing yourself from your husband to give her a brief hug. “I’m sure Festus has been a pain, as usual.”

“Don’t say that.” She quietly laughed, giving her own husband a glance before looking at the manor in awe and grabbing two champagne glasses of a server’s plate. “Here.”

“Oh no, thank you.” You decline politely, folding your hands together.

“Suit yourself.” She placed one back onto another plater. “The place looks wonderful. The lighting is everything.”

“Thank you. I do love a—“

“Excuse me, ladies, but could I borrow my wife for a bit? It’s time for my speech.” Coriolanus cut in, sneaking an arm around your waist.

Livia nodded, gesturing toward you. “Of course.”

You give her one last smile before following Coriolanus. Sure, you wanted to converse with old classmates, but as the most popular couple in Panem, you had other duties to tend to.

“See Tigris yet?” You murmur in his direction as you ascend the stairs, Coriolanus’ hand placed on the small of your back.

He shook his head, “She didn’t show. She called and said she was busy with work.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to speak to her about an important matter.” You frown and mumble the last bit, your ringed hand lightly moving to your stomach. “Anyway, you must mention how you were delighted to see everyone come here today.”

“Of course, I will. You think I don’t remember that, beautiful?” He kissed your cheek as you reached the balcony looking over the foyer. “Ready?”

“Always.” You lace hands with him.

Coriolanus instructed someone to shut the main lights off and flash the spot light on you both, earning awed noises from the crowd below.

“Thank you all for coming to our first winter gala!” Coriolanus started and got applause from those in the audience.

He went on to thanking everyone who came and spoke about his time as President, calling out those who helped him win the election.

“And of course, I would not have done this all with my lovely wife. Give it up for her, yeah?” He spoke, your name flawlessly living his lips. You flush from the praise but wave to the people below, squeezing Coriolanus’ hand.

“Want to say anything?” He murmured as the applause quieted. You shook your head, resting your hand on your stomach again.

Coriolanus kissed your cheek once more before wrapping up his speech, raising his glass as a final gesture. Everyone else followed suit, your own glass of water being lifted.

“Wonderful speech, my love.” You show your pearly whites as he whisked you away to a hallway.

“That’s because you wrote it, darling.” He met your lips, feeling your grin widen in the kiss.

You let one hand rest on his chest while the other comes around to his neck, Coriolanus’ hands firm on your waist.

“I love you.” You mumble in between kisses, holding your urge to not slide your fingers through his slicked back hair.

He squeezes your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “I love you more.”

read more about coriolanus here !!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[slaymitchabernathy]

A Snowflake

“Do you think I look fat?”

Coriolanus freezes at his wife’s question. Surely this is some trick, some ploy to start up a pointless argument. There really should be lessons taught to husbands of expecting wives about these things because he’s been navigating the past seven months clueless as can be.

He glances up from the newspaper at his wife, dressed merely in her underwear while standing in front of their dresser, looking at herself in the mirror’s reflection.

Her hands rest on her protruding stomach, swollen with their first child, a baby girl.

Coriolanus feels pride in knowing that he not only managed to marry a woman as beautiful as Soarynn, but also managed to get her pregnant. She’s absolutely glowing with this pregnancy and he’s heard nothing but praise about how she’s been going about it.

And yes, in public she’s the sweet, graceful Soarynn Snow everyone knows her to be. But at home she’s sometimes a little…emotional.

He’s learned to choose his words very carefully the past few months since most sentences can lead to tears. He knows it’s just the hormones, that she’ll be back to her normally sensitive self once she gives birth but still, he’s been walking on eggshells.

“Of course not, darling,” he smoothly answers, and he’s telling the truth. Soarynn is a rather slender woman, and yes, she’s put on a few pounds during this pregnancy, but in all the right places in his opinion.

Her breasts have grown in size and her ass, well, he’s been enjoying these developments very much. Turns out pregnancy is a blessing.

But Soarynn is still looking at herself, with a frown on her lips now. Coriolanus sighs, he knows his wife isn’t vain or self obsessed but all his friends warned him about this stage of pregnancy. The stage in which women tend to obsess over every little thing about their appearance, comparing their current bodies to the ones they had before becoming pregnant.

Not that he can blame her, he’d do the same thing if he were in her position. Coriolanus prides himself in his toned physique, working out regularly to ensure that Soarynn has a fit and attractive husband at all times.

But this pregnancy has only made her more beautiful in his eyes, she’s gotten softer, prettier, brighter. She’s simply glowing.

He rises from his seat once he realizes that a few kind words will not be enough to soothe his wife’s insecurities.

He comes up behind her and rests his hands on top of hers, admiring how they look in the mirror. They make quite the attractive couple in his opinion and if they’re lucky, their baby girl will look just like Soarynn.

He can picture her now, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes with a hint of gray in them, freckles too. She’ll have him wrapped around her little finger in no time if she’s anything like Soarynn.

“My love,” he says softly, kissing behind her ear, “you look beautiful, believe me you do. There’s not a day where you haven’t looked beautiful, pregnant or not but to see you carrying my child makes you even more beautiful.”

Soarynn leans into his touch, fully trusting him with her care and his heart beats a little faster knowing that very soon, he’ll be taking care of two people.

His girls.

“I just,” she bites her lip, “I don’t ever want to disappoint you and I worry that I may not look the same once I give birth. I’ve heard stories of women experiencing tearing during birth and…”

He can see that his wife has fallen victim to horror stories of birth. He’d by lying if he said he hasn’t as well but for different reasons.

Coriolanus remembers his own mother’s death all too well. Too much blood, not enough time. His little sister he never got to meet and his mother he never got to say goodbye too.

No, that won’t be happening to Soarynn, he’ll make sure of that.

He holds her a little tighter though, just to be safe, “You won’t tear,” he promises, “and I love you Soarynn, no matter what your body looks like. If you think I’ll be put off by a stretch mark then you clearly don’t realize how I can’t get enough of you darling. I’d take you every day if I could.”

To prove his point he kisses down her neck, making her giggle which has to be his favorite thing to hear, “You already do,” she laughs, squirming in his hold.

She’s right, he makes love to her about every day just for the sake of reminding her how much he adores her. Soarynn is like a goddess with her swollen stomach, lying on their bed. It’s hard not to make love to her when she looks like this.

He chuckles and gives her one more kiss before pulling away, “See? You’re beautiful and you’re not fat, you’re growing a tiny human being inside of you darling, you shouldn’t be concerned with such things.”

Soarynn sighs, looking at their reflection with his hands resting on top of hers. “Our little snowflake,” she softly says and he raises an eyebrow. “Snowflake?” He repeats and Soarynn smiles up at him, nodding, “Mhm. Get it? Because she’s tiny and we’re the Snows? A snowflake!”

Coriolanus kisses the top of her head, amused by how cute she is. “You’re terribly clever darling,” he tells her, “but it’s a good thing we already picked out a name hmm?”

They chose the name of their baby girl once they found out the gender. Mostly because Soarynn wanted to get her as many personally monogrammed items as possible. Pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, clothes, whatever she could get her hands on.

Coriolanus didn’t even bother with trying to stop her. Not when she was so excited. The nursery was already done, with soft pink walls and a beautiful crib.

“Our Ceraphina,” Soarynn says dreamily.

Coriolanus smiles, “Our little snowflake.”

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @kickmybark @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee |

[julietsbody]

thirsty — coriolanus + reader : the capitol’s star player, golden boy, coriolanus snow had an odd obsession with the water girl, and what other liquids she could provide for him. 

tags : MDNI! 18+!! soccer ! tbosas au, bimbo ! reader,  squirtingggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!, fingering, pussy play, nicknames (dollface, various barbies, princess), filthy filthy stuff fr, might be a SLIGHTTTT piss kink fic, princess / special treatment, overstimulation, public sex (semi but still), voyeurism 

a / n : AND BOY I I FANTASIZE ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME IF U WERE MINE ID GIVE THIS PUSSY TO U 9-5 5-9 

the heat in panem was enough to dehydrate someone who drinks water daily in seconds, coriolanus waves a clipboard he had taken from casca in front of his face, trying to earn some cool air from it. to nobody’s surprise, the water girl had come bouncing in with your pink kitten heels, short white skirt, and pink tank top that your tits were practically spilling out of. 

your hair was pulled back into some slick back ponytail, with of course, a ribbon tied around the base of the ponytail. you always looked so perfect, makeup barely budging against the strong heat as you came waltzing in. 

you were a fan favorite of the team’s, so sejanus and festus’ heads immediately snap from the soccer ball they they were dribbling to you now. sejanus’ eyes light up immediately, waving to you, “hey!” 

you offer him a barbie - like smile, waving back with your freshly manicured nails, “hihi, sejanus! it’s sooooooo hot.” 

sejanus smiles sweetly as he approaches you, “made sure the water was cold today?” 

he’s teasing you of a time the heat was this bad and you forgot to add ice to the bucket holding the waters. you cried that day, many times. coriolanus found you having a sobbing fit in the hallway, repeating to yourself that you were so stupid. coriolanus was never good with affection, but he gave you a small hug that day, and assured you it didn’t matter at all. 

and when festus called you a dumb bitch for it? 

coriolanus made it his priority to fuck festus up on that field that day, and good lord, he did. 

festus was ushered off with a broken wrist because of a move coriolanus made, and coriolanus was taken off with a red card and a proud smirk on his face. now festus and coriolanus are never allowed on the same field, no matter what. which was good, because festus was a mediocre player, whilst coriolanus has a record for most man of the match’s won. 

you pout at him, “not funny, sej.” 

he chuckles, eyes softening at you as he tips his head in your vision, “‘m jus’ messing with you, sweet girl, water is water regardless of temperature, yeah?” 

sejanus and coriolanus were both always reassuring you, always so sweet with you despite their cold exteriors, despite the fact that they’re the most sought after players, they never let that ego get to them. 

well… sejanus didn’t. 

coriolanus did sometimes. speak of the devil, snow moves to bump into sejanus’ shoulder, offering him a toothy grin with his sharp canines. sejanus glares at him, like he was interrupting something special, “how are you in such a good mood when you were just whining over the heat?” 

coriolanus ignores sejanus’ obvious attempts to embarrass him to impress you, his blue eyes locking onto you with a whistle, “hey, malibu barbie.” 

you playfully roll your eyes at him, “you can’t just call me a different barbie every time you see me.” 

“yeah?” his jaw ticks, eyeing you up and down, god, he loved the way your short skirt rides up your thighs, the way your tits bounce through that practically see - through tank top, “why not?” 

“i don’t like it,” you pout at him. 

sejanus nods along, “yeah, snow, she doesn’t like it.” 

coriolanus sighs at him, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re such a cuck, dude.” 

he smirks at your ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) expression due to his words, truly not understanding what he means by calling sejanus a cuck— was he stopping him from something? 

you blink dumbly at them, and coriolanus only shrugs, turning to stride past a silent festus. 

sejanus scoffs, “can’t believe he gets away with shit like that.” 

you frown at him, “he’s probably having a rough day— or like… ‘m not sure, you know how he is, sej.” 

“yeah, yeah,” sejanus watches as his cleats sink into the grass, “pretty sure he has a huge crush on you, too.” 

ㅤ˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

PANEM 6-2 DISTRICT 2 

as soon as the match was over, coriolanus came up to you, sweat causing his platinum hair to stick to his forehead as he takes a cold water bottle from your hands, fingers brushing against yours. 

he takes a sip from it before leaning in to tower over you, “you saw that bicycle kick?” 

you nod at him excitedly, “i did! you’re soo good, coriolanus.” 

he rolls his tongue along his teeth, “yeah? you think so?” 

you smile sweetly at him with more nods as he walks past to the locker - room, sejanus moving to wrap his arm around coriolanus’ shoulders, to be honest, sejanus should be thanked for coriolanus’ bicycle kick because he’s the reason the ball was even at a level for coriolanus to kick it— but will coriolanus ever admit that? 

of course not! 

in fact, coriolanus doesn’t even think of all his achievements this match even when everyone is patting him on the back, dumping their water bottles on him and leaving him even more drenched than he was before. but with all this water, he just can’t stop thinking of you. 

that expression on your face earlier, plump lips parted in shock, he wonders how well they would wrap around his cock— 

@csnow18 : hey you busy

@csnow18 : ? 

you pluck out your phone as soon as it buzzes, only to see a message from coriolanus, on instagram. he had your number.. why didn’t he… honestly, you knew better than to question him at this point. 

@princess101 : no.. why? 

@csnow18 : im really thirsty 

@princess101 : just gave u water ‎‎໒꒰ྀི -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ ꒱ྀིა 

@csnow18 : festus took it from me 

a lie. 

@csnow18 : come to the locker room? 

@princess101 : rolling my eyes at u rn

@princess101 : u owe me 

@princess101 : and stop letting festus take stuff from u!!!!!!!! 

this wasn’t the first time he has lied about festus taking his water bottle just to see you, but it was the first he had different intentions for when he saw you. 

he already knows you’re coming before you’re even there, mostly because he can hear the click! clack! of your heels, but also because of the whistles of the people passing by you. coriolanus hated how people immediately turned to drooling animals when they saw you, it wasn’t of jealousy but rather possessiveness, because can he really blame them? 

his eyes light up when he sees you, pushing his soaked hair back, “tropical splash barbie.” 

you pout at him, putting your hands on your hips, “how do you even know so many barbies?” 

he shrugs simply, “because i see one every day.” 

you sigh, moving to push a water bottle to his chest, “happy?” 

“hey,” he leans in closer, fingers wrapping around the bottle, “why’re you actin’ like that?” 

“‘m not acting like anything,” you lie, “just don’t get thirsty again.” 

as soon as you spin on your heel to walk away, he clicks his tongue disappointedly, “you know… i don’t know if this water is g’na keep me hydrated enough.” 

you blink at the floor, what? what… “what?”

you turn back around to meet his eyes, watching his pupils immediately dilate at the way your skirt barely shows your panties whenever you twirl around, “do you just serve water, princess?” 

you stare at him dumbly, “i don’t get it—“ 

“you don’t?” he takes a step closer, “i see the way you look at me, doll, always watching when i make a goal, cheering me on, purposefully bouncing up and down so your panties show and your tits nearly pop out that shirt.” 

it was true. all so fucking true. the entire team was so, so attractive, especially coriolanus— you don’t ever wear things for men, but the men of panem’s soccer team? your own dress - code is practically the tightest, most slutty clothes ever! 

“i…” you pause, lips shimmering from your lip - gloss, “i do have other juices.” 

his tongue rolls along the inside of his teeth, tights curling upwards ever so slightly, “think i might need those, dollface.” 

you nod at him, “but— not here.” 

he hums, moving to drop the water bottle onto the ground as he leans in closer and closer until his lips are buzzing against your cheek, “yes, here.” 

you can’t help but melt into his touch as he peppers kisses along your face, pecking against your lips until his kisses drop down to run along your neck. your nails rake up his arms ever so gently, “people will catch us..” 

“mm - mm,” he disagrees, “all showerin’, jus’ let me get hydrated, yeah?” 

 he’s quick to move to his knees, smiling whenever he catches a glimpse of you looking around to see if anyone’s coming as his fingers trace along your thighs, lips following along after them. you’re so paranoid, god, for such a dumb slut, you really didn’t want to get caught. 

he hikes your skirt up to catch a glimpse of your panties, pastel red, to match the team’s colors and oh— oh what’s this? on the right side near your hip, it’s his player number, 18, with a heart surrounding it. he gawks up at you, chuckling at the reason for you always wanting to show off your panties, you had already marked him on them. 

you shyly hide your face, trying to ignore him until his finger presses against the wet spot of your panties left by your cunt. you shiver under his touch, “been wet for me all day, hm?” 

you nod at him, fingers moving to faintly cover your mouth, “always wanted you, corio..” 

he presses a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, before hooking a finger on your delicate panties and tugging them down, “you wrote my number on all your panties?” 

you continue nodding, shivering when his fingers lightly graze along your cunt, “mhm.. sej— sej.. is on some, too.” 

“that so? maybe i should get him out here to fuck you, too,” he presses his thumb against your clit, watching your hips buck ever so slightly, lashes fluttering. 

you shake your head, “n-no.. not now— want.. just you.” 

he moves to push your legs apart with his free hand, moving his hand on your clit out of the way so he can finally dive in. his tongue is quick to lick a stripe up your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit and taking it in his mouth to suck on with ease. 

your fingers move to his head, nails threading through his wet hair as you bite on the fingers of your free hand, trying so hard to not make any noise but gosh, the feeling of his mouth on you was just too much. 

his hand runs up your thigh, holding you stable as his mouth completely devours your cunt, not offering you any remorse as your hips jerk against nothing, teeth sinking past layers of your skin to muffle your whines. 

it’s not long before his hand is sliding from your thigh to your cunt as his lips move back up to your clit, ever so slowly sliding two of his fingers inside of your soaked entrance. you took his fingers so well, velvet walls pulsing around flesh and bone, tightening around him like he was a lifeline. 

your grip on his hair immediately becomes lethal, babbling nonsense against your finger, “corio— co..corio… ‘ts too much— ‘m gonna..” 

that was coriolanus’ cue, his fingers immediately curl into you and he starts moving them back and forth so his fingers are repeatedly penetrating that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll back. you tug at his hair as the sounds of his fingers moving inside of you become wet squelching, a familiar feeling washing over you but with a tinge of something different. 

it felt like an orgasm but no— no, it was wetter than an orgasm, because now his hand was completely drenched in your wetness, his lips moved to a part so it could spray into his mouth. it was so, so filthy, the way he gulped it down, and made you squirt again, and again, and again. 

you were like a fountain of nectar that he just couldn’t get enough of. 

you were so fucked out that you didn’t realize you were cuming again until your body is wracked with another orgasm, gushing all over his fingers and into his mouth once more. you whimper above him, silently begging for mercy as he continues to pump his fingers into your overstimulated pussy, “corio— please.. too much— can’t..” 

he licks the remaining juices from his lips as he finally pulls his fingers out, lapping up the cum and other substances dripping off of his skin. he takes a grip of your hips to stabilize you as he stands, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “thank you, dollface, such a good water girl.” 

your lips part to speak but you’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat. 

your eyes immediately snap to the side, only to find.. 

“sejanus?”  

[corioswife]

Teachers Pet ..

warnings 🎀 nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable !! make sure to send in requests so i can get them done by tonight

Professor!Snow x Fem Student!Reader

Coriolanus Snow, a renowned professor in the Capitols university. He was respected and feared by his students, not only for his intelligence but also for his stern demeanor.

Among these students was a young, ambitious woman, you. You were intelligent, hardworking, and always managed to catch Professor Snow's eye. Despite the significant age gap, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him—not just academically but also personally.

One fateful evening, after an especially long day at the library, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. Your thoughts drifted towards Professor Snow, his piercing gaze, and the way he'd lecture passionately about subjects that left you breathless.

" I wish he'd notice me more " you sighed wistfully, running a hand through your hair. Just then, there was a light knock on your door. Your heart raced as you wondered who it could be—especially at this hour.

Opening the door, you found yourself face-to-face with Professor Snow. His eyes were intense, boring into yours, and for a moment, you thought you might melt under his gaze. He whispered your name, his voice rough and demanding. " I need you. "

Swallowing hard, you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and before you could even process what was happening, he pulled you roughly against his body. His lips crashed down on yours, his possession claiming you as his own.

You groaned into the kiss, your body melting against his as he consumed you with his passion and desire. Your kisses deepened, your tongues dancing wildly as he slowly began to lead you towards the bed.

You felt a surge of emotions coursing through your veins—excitement, fear, anticipation. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, desperate for more. As you reached the edge of the bed, he broke the kiss, gasping for air.

His eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with lust, his breathing labored. He let out a whisper of your name, his voice hoarse from your intense encounter. " I've wanted this for so long. "

" Please, Professor " you murmured, your voice shaking with need. Without another word, he pushed you down onto the bed, following you with his body. His rough hands roamed over your skin, possessively claiming every inch of you.

You whimpered as he slid his hands under your shirt, tearing it away. His rough fingers trailed over your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in your wake.

" Please " you moaned, arching your back towards him. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing softly as he nipped at your flesh. His other hand slipped between your legs, finding you already wet and eager for him.

" Oh god " you gasped as he touched you, his fingers expertly teasing your sensitive spot. You writhed beneath him, your body aching for release.

With one swift motion, he pushed his pants down and freed his hard length. It stood tall against his belly, throbbing with need. He positioned himself at your entrance, nudging against your tight folds.

" God, you're so tight " he groaned, burying his head in your neck. And then, with a force that surprised even him, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. Your tightness gripped him like a vice, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body.

You cried out, arching your back again. It felt so good—painful but in a way that made you crave more. He started to move inside you, his powerful strokes driving you both closer to the edge.

The room was a blur of heat and lust as you moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync. Your moans filled the air as you bucked against him, meeting each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips.

His hands found your breasts again, pinching and pulling on your nipples as he grew more forceful. You could feel him getting closer, the head of his cock brushing against your sensitive entrance with each powerful thrust.

" I'm close " you whispered, your voice shaky with anticipation.

" Come for me, Doll " he growled, his voice low and demanding. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, your moans filling the room as you both climaxed.

You collapsed against him, panting heavily. You lay there, entwined, your hearts racing in perfect unison. This was what you’d been longing for, it was more than just a professor and a student; it was a connection that went beyond the classroom.

[diorchids]

imagine a pent-up coryo. :((

his slick, fat cock pushing up against the fabric while he humps the plush pillow. he’d been so stressed. his eyes prickle with tears as he overstimulated himself, hips stuttering before his cock twitches, cumming all over his pillow. maybe he’d stay in his room all day, jerking his big cock off, lips forming an ‘o’ as he bucked his hips into his clammy palm. blonde locks stuck to his forehead as he played with his big balls, so full and tight. :( grandma’am would be so confused hearing him panting out all night, groaning out pleas and thank you’s, wondering if her overworked grandson was okay. he pathetically bit his red lips, tears running down his face as he imagined a tight cunt squeezing him real good.

[tonixe]

malignant —- adjective. disposed to cause harm, suffering, or distress deliberately; feeling or showing ill will or hatred.

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 -—- ♱

Coriolanus has a big jealousy problem, every time you talk to other men even the ones he knows, he gets jealous really fast, imagine mid-conversation with a stranger he pulls you and mutters an 'excuse me' as he drags you off.

Starts fighting with you that your cheating on him, calling you a slut and a whore for talking to men other than him. You just say that he's just a friend or someone you knew, and he wouldn't believe you, and drag you off to the washroom.

Coriolanus who really rough on you—when he's fucking you, grabbing your hair, and ripping you out of your dress. Just him hatefucking you, you're not even enjoying it just your screams falling death to his ears. The screams echo throughout the manor, even the maids and Butler hearing your useless pleas.

Coriolanus is cold, He wouldn't even care about your battered body, his hands gripping onto your waist, marking your body. Now, Coriolanus is never rough with you or hits you, but when he's jealous, he can't help it...you just have to brace for impact; His hands harshly gripping your chin, as he lowers his head towards, his blue eyes staring into yours, and tears couldn't help but to fall out from the induced pain you have been through. His cruel words come out of his mouth, calling you a slut or a whore. Your lips are bitten up, and tears dripping down from your cheeks.

If he's really mad at you it's face down, ass up. His hands smack the plush of your ass, as you scream his cock slipping in and out of you. His hands forcefully burying your face into the mattress, making you almost suffocate. He knew that you deserved the punishment, his wife couldn't be whoring herself around. He finishes himself inside of you, just for his cum dripping out of you mixing with your blood.

He might forgive you if just take it, but he'll never take his eyes off of you...ever

Coriolanus who needs an heir! Imagine if Coriolanus wants to have a baby, he would make it keen to you, though you didn't feel ready to have a copy of you and Coriolanus running around.

The many sacrifices you would have to make, and Coriolanus just doing the bare minimum...didn't sit right with you. Always saying no, or ignoring it, making him get angry by the second.

One day you were just tending to the manor, fixing your skirt, and then a rushing maid, came up to you with a scared expression on her face, her mouth muttering out words, "Coriolanus, want you at his office, my lady" she looks at you in fear, her body trembling. You nodded, walking down the empty manor, your heels stepping down on the delicate floors, leading to the desolate, ominous-feeling office awaiting your presence to him. Your hands on the golden handle, opening up the Roman panel doors.

With the click of the door, as you opened to Coriolanus already examining you,

You felt like prey to a predator. You didn't want to close the door, feeling an uneasy sensation in your stomach, closing the door. "You called," you remarked, You couldn't help but look away from him. You felt alarms going off in your head, your conscious warning you of what was going to come, and the next thing that happened, was your body on the bare floor, your dress hoisted up as Coriolanus thrust into you, tears staining your vision, "Your going to be a wonderful mother" his haunting words echoing in your head, during the assault.

Coriolanus abused your body with his touch, fucking himself into you and pumping his come right after, making sure you were going to pregnant with his heir. Even if it meant him tracking your cycle and knowing when you ovulate

Coriolanus who wants an heir so badly! making sure he throws out all of your birth control pills, making sure that his sacrifices don't go to waste, and that all your movements are being tracked by the staff and peacekeepers.

Coriolanus's plan worked! looking at your now round and big belly carry his children! He would be so delighted, though you always had a scared expression etched on your beautiful face when you saw him, especially when you delivered the news to him

But you would have never known what he did for this to happen, it wasn't for your pretty little head to think about, no?

That's right it wasn't for your head to think about at all!

[ichorai]

wool ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive

warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner

a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter. 

Control. That was all he needed. 

It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you. 

You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.

That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.

But there were… distractions.

Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.

He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.

Lower, lower, dangerously low—

When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.

She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”

Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.

“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”

You stiffened, and Coryo bristled. 

“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.” 

There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.

You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time. 

“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”

The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine. 

“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.

“Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”

You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”

The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”

“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.

Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?

But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you. 

“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”

Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.

“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.

When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his. 

“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?

His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.

As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth. 

After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.

He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.