#coriolanus im in your walls

[mockingjay-sings]

Top 10 anime betrayals

[phfenomena]

❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader

| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻

| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)

the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.

he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.

he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.

she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.

“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.

she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.

“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.

“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.

“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”

the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.

that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.

“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.

she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.

as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.

the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.

after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.

the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.

coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.

“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.

coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.

“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.

“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”

she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?

“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.

she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.

“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”

he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.

the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.

as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.

coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.

“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.

their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.

she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.

her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.

festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.

she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.

“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.

[darby-rowe]

Okay so;

Obsessed with the idea of a academy!sub!coryo never being able to last. Like man busts after two pumps but will keep pushing himself through the overstimulation to make sure u cum all over his cock no matter how uncomfortable it is for him.

Thoughts? 🤔🤔

ugh this is YUMMYYY. im such a glutton for sub!coryo i could think of two scenarios for this ask.

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw slight dubcon

1. you could be nice about it! coryo just loves how tight and warm your pussy is around his cock — borderline obsessed. he can’t help it :( you’re just so pretty the way you lay under him, anticipating his dick inside you. he’ll enter inside you, and after a few thrusts he’s already shuddering and mewling as he shoots his load inside you. and all you can do is just encourage him to keep going. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay” you coo as you hold his face in your hands, softly nodding at him. “just keep going. i know it’s a lot, but im almost there. keep going, baby, keep going.”

and when your walls tighten around his overstimulated cock as you cum all over his shaft, he’s on the verge of tears bc of how sensitive he is. and the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling and holding each other 💕

OR…

2. oh you’re gonna make fun of him so much for finishing early. coriolanus snow — the son of crassus snow — is a 2 pump chump in bed?

and damn, you were excited to get in his pants too. you swooned over him for many nights, and now that you finally have him… he finishes in a matter of seconds? i mean, really, all you can do now is laugh! “are you serious?” you look at him before you guffaw. “you already came? and inside me at that?”

the look of pure embarrassment on his poor, pretty face almost makes you wanna pity him. almost.

“well, i haven’t finished yet,” you say matter-of-factly. “so keep going, pretty boy.”

and coryo’s baby blue eyes get so wet as tears of shame threaten to spill onto his pale cheeks. “i-i can’t. too much. ‘m too sensitive.”

with a roll of your eyes you flip yourselves over so now you’re riding him, despite the pathetic protests from the boy beneath you.

“too much. t-too much. so sensitive, please”

and then you finally cum on his cock. and shit wasnt even worth it. the orgasm was subpar at best.

but hey, you’re not totally cruel, so you decide to give the poor boy another chance to fuck you some other night. bc you’re such a nice person ✨

[celesterayel]

match made in heaven | coriolanus snow

pairing : coriolanus snow x scheming!reader

request: can I please have a mean!reader with snow whose absolutely obsessed with each other!!!!

IN WHICH — coriolanus snow isn't nice but neither are you. it's a match made in heaven.

"it was enchanting to meet you. all i know is, i was enchanted to meet you" - t.s.

w.c. 500+

warning(s) : snow being snow ✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ authors note istg im so obsessed with this man and it's not even funny

you hated him. you absolutely loathed coriolanus. now, that’s not to say you didn’t applaud his little performances or the way he could manipulate others around him to get what he wanted–because yes, it was impressive–but you hated how absolutely enchanted everyone was with him. 

there was no one at this stupid school or in the capitol that didn’t give him the attention that belonged to you. hell, even dean highbottom, who could give you a run for your money on how much he loathed snow, spent all his attention on that: hating him. you didn’t see what they saw. what was so special about someone who was named corioANUS snow?

you were so much prettier than he was, smarter than him, better in every way that mattered. you knew how to work the crowd to do your bidding. when others threatened your place or standing, you knew how to get rid of them quietly and efficiently so that no one knew it had been you behind it. 

of course, you were the top of the top. you didn’t understand all the fuss about him. one of these days, you were going to snap if one more teacher preached about “how perfect snow’s essay was!” or “how handsome he was!”. 

of course, you don’t know that while you obsess over the man, he’s doing the exact same. because look at how perfect you are! all he can think about is the fact that behind every innocent smile and kind act you hide behind, he can see the callousness and manipulation that you are. 

the man’s practically in love with you because for once, he doesn’t necessarily need to pretend to be nice or sweet. add to the fact that you're the perfect match for him when he becomes president of panem. man has already bought the ring that he’ll propose to you with one day.

that is after he’s made sure you won’t tell others about how crazy he truly is. he cannot risk his plans falling down the drain even for you. so, when you're on your way home, he’s got you pinned to the wall starting a whole speech about what would happen to you if you said anything. 

that’s when you fall in love. hands pinned to the wall as he’s threatening your life. what’s more romantic than being told you’ll die if you say anything about him? Well, him pressing a rough kiss to your lips as you stare at him. 

“are you out of your mind?”

“only for you, darling, only for you.”

y’all, are both whipped for each other from then on. 

you both collude from there: you need someone gone? snow doesn’t need another word, he's already making sure they're gone. because nothing is going to bother his sweet, sweet girl. he’s slightly unsure of how to proceed with something? you create an ingenious plan so quickly the man kisses you to high heaven because he’s so in awe. 

when he does become president of panem, the man just cannot get enough of you. he’s never loved you more but now all he can think about is how good power looks on you. when you walk into a room, you instantly capture his eye. he swears he’ll die before you ever leave his side. 

he’s still not a good person though but neither are you. you’re both a match made in heaven.

[rewrite-canon]

im going crazy with how people are starting to agree with snow that sejanus was really stupid and deserved what was coming to him. reading the books first should be a pre requisite to the movie idcccc if that takes away the wider audience, the wider audience all have smooth brains anyway.

“why was he colluding with rebels when he could’ve just thought about it pragmatically 🙄” i’m in your fucking walls. sejanus was never dumb, snow just kept pushing that perception of him through the book to deflect the fact that sejanus was an actual good person. snow thought himself the personification of good and benevolence, which was why everything he did had to have some half-assed excuse as to why he was justified in doing it. it was why he was actually tweaking in the woods when lucy gray left him, because he wanted to rid himself of her but he didn’t have an actual reason so he convinced himself of the most random scenario ever to justify trying to shoot at her. so we can establish that snow was an evil broke boy who clearly wasn’t good— then sejanus was a direct confrontation of snow’s own shortcomings towards that (i don’t think i have to detail how sejanus was genuine, it was obvious). coriolanus and sejanus are like the direct opposite characters of each other, and snow knew and took pride in this to an extent. which is why snow couldn’t admit that sejanus was good to himself, thus sejanus was deemed ‘stupid’ to protect his own deluded self actualisation (but this also includes other aspects like how the war made the plinths rich and the snows poor, leading to resentment and jealousy from snow).

“but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t doing dumb things throughout the book” was it really that dumb? a rebellion will always include some level of risk but i don’t hear anyone calling heavensbee stupid because it actually worked out for him. plus sejanus is district, so if we use our common sense of who he is as a character and emotional intelligence of his situation, it’s pretty easy to see why he would get in touch with rebels. he’s literally always yearned for the districts, he never once cared about his money or safety, which isn’t stupid, it’s sad. this was his way of dealing with the guilt of profiting from his people’s suffering— again, not stupid. you could argue he was reckless, especially when he went into the arena, but most people who simply cast him as a ‘dumb character’ ignore how troubled he is and fall into the very filtered lens of snow who was just concentrating on his stupidity.

sejanus’ growing radical actions had nothing to do with stupidity and everything to do with feeling helpless and like nothing was changing. he tried minor/low-risk things such as attempting to change the perception of the districts in the capitol, advocating against the hunger games etc etc. of course it didn’t work, so his options grew limited to more radical courses of action. its a natural line of thought— activists literally do it in real life when they feel as if their cause isn’t getting enough attention (eg. setting themselves on fire). sejanus is a desperate character who is so selfless in light of snow’s constant self-preservation. snow will always put himself first and be paranoid that he will be betrayed like he’s betrayed others, so he never understands sejanus’ disposition to help and trust people, so he labels him dumb. omg. like. sejanus is so not-stupid i’m actually gonna start freaking out!! this is defamatory leave my boo alone!! plz go read a book and work on media literacy i am begging!!!

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away. 

word count: 1,443

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread

The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet. 

“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”

“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside? 

“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try. 

“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”

You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered. 

The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”

But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then? 

Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”

Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside. 

You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. 

After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased. 

A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens. 

Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came. 

What was wrong with you? 

You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them. 

You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”

Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.

“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”

A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”

“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”

“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted. 

“Why?” you begged. 

“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”

Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”

Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”

He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”

“What if you tire of me?”

“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”

“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”

“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”

You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless. 

When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”

[targaryenluvs]

Holy shittt that capitol girl blurb??? That was something else 😵 can you pls make a part 2 of it but like a oneshot of it where he gets jealous of one of those lowly capitol people takling to us and he takes us to his room and then smutty smut happens??? Your dark!finn fics make me feral😩

oooh, i like your brain, captiol girl reader is a fav of mine! but ngl this gives off coryo vibes too.

i was listening to ride…

love you best,, coriolanus snow/finnick odair

can be read as either!!! no specifics i think

tw: kind angry sex, jealousy, choking, possessiveness, semi-public, implied short reader, size kink, humiliation, kinda guilt-tripping, degradation, mirror, flashback punishments, mentions of purposeful starvation, spanking, overstimulation, toys 👀 double pen, im so sorry i don’t know what possessed me

if there was one thing you knew about your partner it was his short temper when it came to you. obviously he didn’t show it all that often but you were one of the few people who could tell. whether it be by his grip on the champagne flute, the rigid posture, or, his unsettling smile. but it was obviously normal to everyone else, all they could think of was the fact that the legend himself was smiling their way.

he hated them in all honesty, but he wasn’t an idiot so he tolerated them.

but eventually every man breaks, and this time it was because of you.

an ugly, loud, grimy businessman had taken interest in you, his girl. he flashed his pearly whites your way every chance he got, brushing his hand by your waist in order to grab a drink, even has the audacity to actually touch you, bring the strap of your dress back up.

“sweetheart,” your partner beckoned you from up the stairs, your saving grace from the man. “come along now.” his grin was sinister and mischievous and you could only guess at what he was thinking of. excusing yourself from his side you made your way up the stairs, his eyes lingering on your behind. that man was lucky your boyfriend didn’t jam his fist in his face.

and before you knew it, the two of you were far from the party, on the third or fourth floor. “what are we doing here?” your voice was quiet, too focused on your surroundings rather than the man behind you, and how hungry he looked. turning to view him you were met with a hand around your throat. “what do you think you’re doing?” his one hand practically encircling your neck, your two hands pawed at his wrist to no avail.

“n—nothing.” you croaked out, watery eyes meeting his own dark irises, they seemed to be consumed with fire, and you knew your were bound to be burned. “are you trying to fuck with me? everyone here knows who you are here with but you’re acting like a whore, do you even know that man’s name?” you shook your head as a smirk made its way to his face, his voice was hot in your ear, “i think you need to be taught a lesson.”

he made you feel small in every way possible, whether it be guiding you through a crowd, or a hand on your hips moving you to the side. or, cornering you when you decided to be a brat, especially during the start of your ‘relationship.’

one of the most prominent examples being when you’d once refused to eat, besides a snack here and there and some water. the servants didn’t know what to do and your boyfriend hadn’t returned, busy with work. so when he did return and learned of your temper tantrum, he tied you down, taking orgasm after orgasm, one for each day you hadn’t eaten. it was the worst and best night of your life, your own ass was bruised and bloodied.

he’d struck you for every hour you refused.

he had his head between your legs, lips on your clit, licking it whilst two fingers pushed in and out, grazing just the right spot, making you arch your back and claw at the mirror. removing his fingers, his tongue traced your folds, saliva mixing in as he moved to your slit, and the inside of your walls. but it was never easy with your boyfriend, and he hated the fact that you looked so pretty. moans sweet as ever, hands pulling at his hair softly.

no, he liked you best at your worst.

so instead of letting you catch your breathe, he took off his tie and bound your wrists behind your back, your circulation practically cut off. you had nothing to grab, to hold, to ground yourself with, all you could do was sit and cry as he sucked your clit harshly, fingernails digging into your thighs as a warning.

stop moving.

again, horrible listener, so you thrashed around, lifting yourself up from against the mirror before being pushed back by him. your eyes were screwed shut as you heaved, “please, please i didn’t do anything!” his eyes shot up to look at your face in disbelief. “you did nothing?” he sneered, rising from in between your legs before his hand clutched your hair as you yelped.

“you want attention, that’s all you ever want. you have legs you could’ve walked away and come to me but you stood there, laughing at his jokes.” his fingers smooshed your face, he loved you best like this. messy hair, mascara smudged and lipstick smeared. for once you were unable to read him, you couldn’t tell if he was joking, mad or teasing. he got down on his knees, tapping your foot as you raised it, your panties removed as he stored it away in his pant pocket. your thighs were painted with arousal, sticky when you moved.

the click of the door opening sobered you up straight away, “what? why are you—” he shoved you infront of him, not even bothering to check if the coast was clear, he assumed there wouldn’t be anyone, you were floors above the party and the only people that would be around these disgustingly sensual rooms would be there for the reason he was. crimson red walls, plush velvet walls, a monstrosity in terms of a fashionable home, but comfortable.

you ended up in a random bedroom, also red. he shoved you onto the bed, shuffling through the drawers with intent. “where would it be?” he muttered to himself as he surveyed the room, his eyes landed on a closet door, promptly moving towards it.

you laid on the bed with your hands underneath you, at least the ceiling was white you thought. the heat between your legs was unbearable, but not left unattended for too long. he had a box in his hands, not too large but not small. “what is that?” you craned your neck to look, but he pulled out a blindfold.

“i want you to only cum when i tell you to, do you understand?” you groaned loudly, “oh come on are you kidding me? why the hell do i have to do that? so annoying—” the dildo penetrated your dripping pussy as you moaned out, finally.

he couldn’t do everything he would have wanted to whilst still at the event but he could at least satisfy himself. he slid in and out with ease, unrelenting pace as you cried out, “don't stop, please don't stop!" he loved you best like this, crying on his fat cock splitting you open.

“you like that? yeah you do.” he grinned as you clutched the sheets underneath you, he pushed it deeper, before taking it out. “please, don’t stop!” you screamed out, the anticipation of what he’d do was exciting, unable to see him. his finger simultaneously traced around your ass, using your slick he smeared it around.

“you want more? you want my cock in you too?” you nodded vehemently, “oh god yes! yes!” he pulled it out before flipping you over and propping you on all fours. he was nice enough to be sweet, cooing and praising you for how good you were being. “you’ll be good for me won’t you? i’ll take your bind off.” thank god, “yes, i’ll be so good, promise.” it felt so good to move them around again. the thing about your boyfriend was that he never made anything easy when it came to sex.

“i want you to fuck yourself.”

his hand on your hips and your own pressed against the headboard. “that's it, fucking take it!" he grunted as he thrust into you, “yeah, you wanna scream? confirm what they know?” you could barely keep your own eyes open let alone respond but of course he would never let that be. you’d never experienced something so euphoric yet punishing. you felt as if you’d explode. he’d gotten tired of how slow you were being with your pussy so he was kind enough to multitask.

but listening wasn’t exactly your strong suit and it didn’t matter how harsh he gripped your hips or how he slammed into both holes, you’d still try and get away. “s’too much, please.” your head rested on the bed, you were exhausted.

“fuck, i’m so close!”

“you’re lucky i’m letting you after the shit you— you pulled.” his words didn’t hurt, your pussy only clenched further, “i can feel you, in both holes.” your forehead pressed against his, a gentle gesture, a reminder of your relationship. he grunted into your ear, thrusts slowing down, messier, closer.

he pulled it out of your ass as you moaned at the loss of contact, “messy girl, need two cocks in you? my little slut needs more?” you shook your head, “just you. just you.” you babbled, you felt so good. oversensitive and tired, which again he loved. he pulled almost all the way out, pressing the fake cock to your lips, “suck it, you’re too noisy baby, you want someone to find you like this? i didn’t lock the door.”

his smirk made you dizzy, he made you dizzy. he took a second to admire you, splayed out on the bed now, sucking both of your juices off it. he slammed back in making you whimper and teary-eyed. soon enough reaching his high as well as your own as you clutched onto his shoulders for dear life, “mmm!” he grunted, “fuck, you’re too good, take it the whole way baby, if you’re— if you’re gonna suck it then take it all.” he found his release with you, his hot cum spurting into your womb.

“next time, you stay by me. or don’t, i’ll fuck you even harder next time.”

[snowsinterlude]

A/N: hi anon!! im so sorry for letting you waiting. i swear it wasnt my intention. im so glad you liked my fics!! im sorry for it but it seems like i posted the unfinished version of what i was trying to do here, and instead of putting on drafts it was released. sorry! it is probably small too but is just because im too tired tday,, sorry ;(

c.w: male masturbation, reader ignoring incel coryo, kissing.

he had tried his best today to get your attention. he was definitely begging for it. begging for you. for the look of your eyes on his.

"god, you look like a bitch with this skirt" he said, on the first class you both had together.

then again, on lunch. "well, look at you. what are you doing? tweeting about how dumb you are?" he asked, and again, he didn't get an answer while you typed on the phone.

then, at the library, when he found you trying to reach for a book, he decided to help you, with him being taller than you. and you didn't even looked into his eyes.

didn't even opened your mouth to say thank you.

"god, y/n, stop being such a bitch. you know this silence treatment won't lead to anything." he said, and finally he had a sight of your eyes, for fucks sake.

he watched as you approached him, your eyes boring into his, your scent filling his nostrils. and he hated himself for making you give him attention, if you were gonna look at him like that it was best for you to keep ignoring him.

"what is it, snow? do you have something to say?" you asked, and you kept approaching him. too much.

too close.

how did you manage to have him sandwiched between you and the wall behind him?

"do you want something? a prize, for being such a mommy's boy? or the category you're searching for it other?" he opened his mouth to answer you, but you didn’t allow it. "we both know what you want, snow. we both know what you're bothering me for."

your hand met his waist under his uniform shirt, nails scratching down his hips as you put yourself on the tip of your toes, giving him a kiss. a filthy kiss that matched with him. your tongue met his, your lips met his, and-

"there it is. leave me alone now." you said, getting away from him as you walked your way to the table of your assignment group.

you left coriolanus behind, and he could notice how tight his pants felt all of a sudden, how his dick was twitching against the fabric and-

wait- did he just...

fuck.

🍒

with his hand pumping his cock violently, his eyes closed as he frowned at the memory of your lips on his, he violently kept going.

the thought of your lips on his. the slam of it as you passed your tongue through his lips, the taste of your tongue touching his, the way you scratched his waist-

"fuck."

he hated you. truly.

it didn't matter that it was the fourth time he came to the same thought of how you would feel on his dick, he still hated you.

he still hated you. that's what he told himself as his thumb softly rubbed on the tip of his dick.

[scribesoflex]

. • ° ❄️ ✧༺ 17+ smut below cut!

coriolanus snow who is extremely proud, and far too ashamed of your family’s status to ever be seen with you outside the four walls of your university dorm room. that fact alone — that your family had to depend on the scholarship that comes with having to work and live on campus, was enough for him to dismiss any idea of you outside the sheets.

what nobody knows about coriolanus snow though? that he doesn’t sport the same brooding attitude when you’re pressed together, panting and sweaty, bed creaking with the force of his hips, fucking into you with what you can only describe as a need. you know he needs this, and so this is enough.

the way his hair, once perfectly formed with gel, falls across his forehead, and his swollen lips part in a euphoric whine – huffing against your mouth, teasing the thought of a kiss, lips passing gently as you speak “feels so fucking good coryo” your words are saccharine, easing his thrumming mind into a state that’s reserved only for moments like this.

teetering on the edge of that release that he’s always chasing, that you always give him “im gonna cum” coriolanus rasps, pressing his forehead to yours as his hips slow to a deep stroke, rolling smoothly, cock brushing deep inside you; making you squirm under his body, but trapped by strong arms on either side of your head.

you hum, fingers ghosting up the expanse of his muscled back, over the scars on his shoulders and over the shaven hair at the nape of his neck until they tangle in the longer stands, tugging the silky white hair at the root, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when he groans lowly in satisfaction “don’t stop, m’so close”

he doesn’t make any move to halt, if anything speeding back up at your confession, always so determined in every aspect of his life – even in bed.

the headboard of your bed makes a gentle thump against the wall, thankfully mostly muffled due to the pillow tucked between them, but the squeak of the floorboards under the creaking metal is enough to keep you from getting louder; another noise complaint will surely be filed.

“i want you to cum baby, wanna feel you” coriolanus’s words pull the trigger to the gun in your mind, thoughts exlpoding, the feeling of release washing over you from where your toes curl to where your shoulders tense, crying into his palm when he slaps it over your mouth, fangs gently digging into the edge of his palm, spit falling from your lips down his wrist and onto your chest, mixing with your sweat, making a mess.

coriolanus is quick to follow, stifling a moan of his own as he quickly pulls out, thick ropes of cum painting your abdomen, smearing across his own skin when his hips falter and his frame nearly crushes your own.

smiling into his scalp as he eases into your embrace, you know that this is definitely not; and will never be enough.

. • ° ❄️ ✧༺ 17+ severely unedited!

[rianavi]

snow w a breeding kink!!!

ayy you get it!! sorry it took me long to respond im not used to checking my inbox. listened to freak by lana del rey while writing this!

coriolanus is rutting into you like its his will to live, his thrusts are hard and calculated, and you know you’ve never felt anything like it.

his senses are amplified, he can smell your juices as they seep out of you. he can hear your whines and incoherent mumbles.

you can’t form a sentence, your brain mush as he fucks you stupid on his cock.

he smirks lazily, his own head clouded by the hazy feeling of your walls clenching tightly around him.

he’s rough but he makes sure your head is propped up above a pillow and your hands have something to grip onto - his biceps -.

he likes the way it stings, like standing to close to a fire, or turning the tap on too hot before washing your hands.

there will for sure be marks next morning but he doesn’t mind.

at this point he doesn’t mind anything you do, as long as you’re tits keep bouncing with every thrust of his hips.

he reaches out slowly. grasping at the soft plushy skin that dangles in front of him like he’s in some sort of hypnosis.

the feeling of his rough and big hands against your soft glowy skin sparks something in him.

he imagines the way they’ll fill up a tank top perfectly, the way they sit perfectly while you cook or clean or do any normal house activities.

then he imagines what it would be like with a baby around.

how your after-birth body would leave your tits swelled and nipples a dark red.

how you would look with a baby in arms. hands cradled around its head.

his baby.

his very own creation.

something as perfect as you.

he can’t help it, the idea of your belly full of his own. his own dna, his own blood.

it has him humping against you faster than ever.

he’s desperate, so much so that he can’t hold in the little whimpers and whines that fall out of from his parted lips.

the sound of skin against skin, the smell of your absolutely abused cunt, the feeling of your ankles wrapped around his hips, the taste of blood on this tongue as he bites down.

it all has him cumming into you, hot and thick.

and the feeling of him shooting inside of you has you squirting all over him, liquid manages its way out of you and he looks down.

curses fall from his lips as he fucks into you again, not letting any of his cum spill out of you.

“you’re gonna take it.” he grunts out as he pushes against your cervix, wiping the tears that pool in your eyes.

[m0chaminx]

Sejanus Plinth | We Hate you

*•.¸♡Request: could you maybe do prompt 44 with sejanus plinth please? it’s seems soooo angsty.

*•.¸♡Prompts:  "You know we all hate you right?" (since writing this my prompt list has changed so check it out)

*•.¸♡Warnings: Angst, cannon death, this does not have a happy ending-im not paying for your therapy, creepy Coriolanus

*•.¸♡Paring: Sejanus Plinth x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: Hate; he heard it everyday. Hate; it was a joke. Hate; it was too late to apologise.

Or

Hate had consumed Sejanus’s life, and he thought you could never say it; until you did.

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

You all know we hate you right?

He heard those words a million different ways, a million different times. It used to hurt, like a knife cutting his skin every time someone wanted to make it known he was different, he was district. Very few had yet to say it, you were one of them. He spent his lunch hours with you, partnering with you on projects and spending as much time with you as possible.

You were the one person in this privileged, closed minded, haunting place that saw Sejanus as something more than just district. He was just a boy who had grown up with a shitty life, in a shitty place with shitty people and yet you sat with him everyday, reminding him that you saw him as something more.

He spent his life being hated and you would spend your life showing him he could be loved.

You sat across from him on his bed, his bedroom door closed and the window cracked open. His house was so perfectly precise in how it was decorated, perfect painting that matched the walls, that matched the kitchen that matched the furniture, so on and on. But Sejanus’s room was the one place that was in a slight disarray, clothes sticking out from draws, crooked decor and not a single colour matched the one next to it. But it was still rich, it was the capitol.

Sejanus hadn’t expected to spend his afternoon like this, he should have been studying, keeping up his appearance of the rich capital boy that was expected of him, but no. He sat with you, passing back and forth a hand rolled joint. It was not what he expected of you, such a rebellious nature to what the capitol expected, but maybe that’s why you saw him as human.

The smoke fell from your lips, lifting through the room before getting caught in the slight draft out the window. You looked up at him, his brown eyes glazed over as he stared at you. “What’s on your mind Sej?” Your voice was soft, almost airy as you passed the joint to him.

“You surprise me is all,” was his answer. He carefully took the cigarette, bringing it to his lips. 

You hummed and leant back on your hands, staring out at the slowly clouding sky. “How so Sejanus?”

He pondered for a moment. You did surprise him, your unnatural almost rebellious behaviour to the capital's minor rules so jarring to his mind. But you knew that. Hell, you were sitting here smoking with him. He shrugged softly, taking a small drag from the joint before handing it out to you. “I’m not so sure, you just do.”

You took the cigarette back, your eyes drifting back out the window. “It looks like a storm is coming.”

You all know we hate you right?

The words slipped past your lips before you could catch yourself. “We. We hate you.” It was the word that had struck so deep within him he couldn’t handle it. His hand was still raw from the chair across the room, the metal hinges had nicked his skin and cut his palm. He wiped the blood on his trousers, though his palm stung with pain, your words had numbed his heart in a moment.

You had chased him outside after his outburst, he was still seething with anger and pain when you had tried to calm him. Your need to help him left him yelling at you and in a split second throught the words passed your lips. “You all know we hate you right? What is yelling going to do?” You were meant to say they, because in truth you were right, they did hate him, what was yelling going to do. But the days with your tribute, convincing the capitol you were different from the district boy you were stuck with that your words had become real.

Yes, you were capital. Yes, he was district. But Sejanus was your friend and you had tossed it all aside in a moment you coundt take back or explain. You felt so guilty and Sejanus was filled with pain.

“I thought you were different.” They were his first words after he composed himself. “But you’re just like the rest of them.” He had turned on his heel to leave and tried to chase him, calling you were sorry, that you could explain. Could you though?

Just before your hand reached his, your nails grazing his jacket sleeve, a peacemaker had grabbed your arm and spun you to face him. “You’re not allowed to leave until your tribute dies.”

“Please! I just need a moment-”

“Now!”

“Sejanus-!” You spun to Sejanus but he had disappeared, too far from your sight to even make his figure out in the mist. Your hands moved to fist your hair, your knuckles changing colour as you gripped the roots of your hair so tight. “Fuck…” The Peacemaker regained his grip and pulled you back towards the door. 

After everything you had promised yourself, promised Sejanus, one stupid moment with one stupid word had destroyed that in an instance.

You all know we hate you right?

They were the words you never fathomed would affect him this much. But how couldn't they? You were studying in the courtyard when Coriolanus Snow made his way towards you. You had heard the news of Sejanus’s hanging in 12, everyone had but seeing the last person that had seen him alive made everything so much worse.

You closed your book, staring up at the snow boy. He had changed so quickly in just a few weeks. His once curled hair had been slicked to one side, and the so strictly formal dark red suit and long coat but you squirm. He looked so proper, that if you spoke a word against him he would have you killed, but he was your peer, and even younger than you in age. But you sat, still as a statute as you waited for the Snow boy to speak. 

When he did, the smile gracing his face was sickly sweet, “It’s good to see you.”

“And you as well, Snow,” You tried to match his smile, but the uncertainty of this new Coriolanus Snow had made your stomach twist. 

His smile grew as though he could sense your discomfort. He removed his hands from his pocket and sat on the bench beside you. “Is something bothering you?”

“Aside from the obvious?”

He chuckled darkly and slid closer, “I’m going to be spending quite some time at the Plinth house. I have since become heir to the Plinth fortune. I assume I shall see you around.”

Heir to the Plinth fortune? You turned your head, stomach twisting in realisation. Snow had intended to replace Sejanus as if he hadn't existed, and he indented to take you with him.

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

[drunkinchicago]

coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird

link: chapter 1, link: chapter 2, link: chapter 3

Chapter 4: im looking forward to joining you, finally

"thought he had it all before they called his bluff

found out that his skin just wasn't thick enough

wanted to go back to how it was before

thought he lost everything

then he lost a whole lot more"

Nine Inch Nails, “I’m Looking Forward to Joining You, Finally”

Strabo Plinth rang for Coriolanus late the next evening. This was a common dance, one made convenient by the Plinths purchasing the apartment directly below the penthouse. It was an unspoken rule that Coriolanus was welcome to meals there, but he used the excuse of his studies or commitments to Gaul to avoid spending exorbitant time around Ma. Coriolanus couldn’t look at her without hearing her name on Sejanus’ dying lips, the last thing he’d said, the flock of mockingjays adopting his screams. It was that haunting image that awaited Coriolanus on the few occasions he was able to recall what he’d been dreaming about. These same excuses did not extend to Strabo’s post dinner indulgences of whiskey. When he called, Coriolanus answered.

Strabo’s study was kept excessively cold even in the winter. Coriolanus had learned to bring his mink coat on their visits even though Strabo didn’t wear a jacket himself. Coriolanus imagined this to be a consequence of the alcohol keeping Strabo warm, and declined the offers of his own beverage due to the fear of a drunk confessional. Tonight, though, Coriolanus decided he would accept one - just one. He was celebrating.

“Coriolanus,” Strabo acknowledged him with a nod, already pouring a second glass of whiskey over a singular square ice cube. “Did the help greet you kindly?”

“Always,” Coriolanus responded gruffly, avoiding the portrait of Sejanus that hung on the left wall. He slid into the black palisander lounge chair that he’d associated as being his without looking at anything aside from Strabo or the cut pile tiger-adorned carpet.

“And how is your help?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Good to hear, good to hear.”

For several beats the only sound in the study was that of ice clinking against glass. Coriolanus wondered what Strabo wanted to discuss tonight. They talked about a variety of things - war strategies, where investments were being made in the Capitol, Coriolanus’ work with Dr. Gaul. He nor Strabo initiated conversation concerning Sejanus. The most the topic had been indulged was only in passing, when Coriolanus reminisced on stories from his Academy days that Sejanus had been there for. When Coriolanus mentioned his ‘best friend’s’ name, he made an intentional effort to stammer, willing tears into his eyes. It was an emotionally exhausting performance that he avoided at any opportunity, but Strabo appreciated it. Strabo appreciated any time at all with the future of the Capitol, a dashing student with innovative ideas that had and would be implemented in the Games - a feat few teenagers could boast. Coriolanus could tell that Strabo was intoxicated by his perceived commitment to the Capitol and the rich history that the name Snow carried. It’s not going to rub off on you, Coriolanus thought selfishly and viciously. All that I am, you can’t be. You’re still District.

“Do you want a drink?” Strabo offered politely, holding a second glass toward Coriolanus as he always did, inviting and encouraging. For once, Coriolanus said yes. Strabo couldn’t hide his surprise as he poured the liquor generously, chucking to himself.

“In the mood, you could say,” Coriolanus forced a laugh as well, hoping to come off as charming. Of course he did.

“Well, cheers to the reason you are!” Strabo’s voice adopted an unusually excited tone, causing Coriolanus to cock his head like a disoriented dog.

“What do you mean?” He clinked his glass with Strabo’s anyway, downing half of the whiskey in one sip to slow his heart rate.

“Dr. Gaul called me.”

Coriolanus’ prior action had been for nothing. His chest cavity felt on the brink of explosion, his body reverberating with want. “Is it Lucy Gray? Lucy Gray? Have they found her? Is she okay?”

Now it was Strabo’s turn to appear confused. “No, no, not yet. It hasn’t been long that they’ve been searching, Coriolanus.”

So Strabo did know about the favor.

“Then what did she call for?” Coriolanus couldn’t hide the disgust in his response, disappointment causing him to spit the words out.

Strabo was silent, studying the expression on Coriolanus’ face, noticing how the younger man was gripping the glass in his hand until his fingers turned white. Strabo began to nod before he responded, impressed but unnerved. “So it is real, then.”

“Is what?”

“Your feelings for that poor thing. I thought it was Game strategy, Dr. Gaul assumed it to be some kind of wish fulfillment. You tell me.”

Coriolanus was perturbed by this interaction. He’d thought of Lucy Gray constantly, but hadn’t discussed it with others, keeping her as his own private burden, the thorn in his side that he craved the feeling of. Now, she seemed to be all anyone wanted to talk about. Dr. Gaul and Strabo Plinth, his simultaneous lifelines to success, probing him about his songbird. He didn’t want to answer their questions about her. He just wanted her there, physical and palpable. What else needed to be rationalized? He ignored the request, instead asking his own questions. “What did Dr. Gaul need you for?”

Strabo knew not to push. “She wanted to inform me of your request and get my approval on the military quotas necessary for such a headhunt.”

“Excuse you, this is not a headhunt,” Coriolanus interrupted, laughing as though he was being played with. Was this a joke? “They are not to kill her. I don’t even want them to touch her, if possible.”

“It was an inappropriate use of the term, but you knew what I meant, didn’t you? Don’t get smart.”

This was not Coriolanus’ first, and far from last, time being verbally reprimanded by Strabo. Coriolanus resented being put down by him, but had become competent in remaining stone faced, accepting the criticism like the reliant beggar he was sure Strabo saw him to be. Strabo liked Coriolanus plenty, and they both knew that. But Strabo would not allow Coriolanus to speak above him. They both knew that too. Coriolanus looked forward to the day that this was no longer a choice. Independence was the only idea that felt as intoxicating as Lucy Gray. The notion of being financially autonomous made Coriolanus’ head spin. How much power could he have? He could hardly stand waiting for it.

“Did you approve of them? The military quotas?”

Strabo nodded. “I did, yes. But we have to discuss some… factors of this arrangement.”

Coriolanus set his condensating glass on the desk, finished with it. He wanted nothing more to do with it, suddenly being reminded of the smell on his father’s breath as he hit young Coriolanus, calling him weak. “In transparency, I’m not entirely sure of the terms of the arrangement myself. I just requested that she be brought to me.”

“To do what with?”

Coriolanus blinked in return. Did it matter? “Forgive me for asking this, but is there a problem with what I've asked for?”

“Let’s be candid, if we can be.”

“Sure.”

“Do you truly think that she can make a life here?”

God , the moral consciousness, ebbing its way in, the need to iron out every detail. I want it, Coriolanus reminded himself. I want it and that’s reason enough. “She and I will determine that.” He tried to sound authoritative as he said it. It’s just us, me and you.

Strabo considered Coriolanus’ words, still appearing concerned. Coriolanus was beginning to find the dim lighting of the study suffocating. He didn’t want to be there anymore. “I’m happy for you, Coriolanus. I am. I want you to have your way with her. I… I have a different plan for you in the long term, that’s all. Have your goals changed?”

This was the cost of a dollar, Coriolanus realized - entitlement to one’s life. He silently cursed his poorness, his need to rely on others. His father was right. He was weak. A poor excuse for a Snow, anyway, being spoon fed judgment from a District man. “My goal is to serve Panem as President,” Coriolanus repeated monotonously, a sentence he’d uttered countless times.

“Part of a successful candidacy is, er, how do I say… It’s comprehensive, Coriolanus. You could have a remarkable run as a Gamemaker, serve the Senate, and still not become President for a variety of reasons. You need to be building as many strong relations in the Capitol as possible, and they need to be deep connections.”

“By what means?” Coriolanus leaned forward, daring Strabo to say what he assumed the man was insinuating.

“Marriage.”

Coriolanus couldn’t control his laughter, throwing his head back as he leaned into the chair. "Your wife is District.” His voice strained at the pressure of his amusement, unable to stop even after Strabo’s face grew red.

“And I’m not President!” Strabo yelled, slamming his fist against his desk so harshly that a book resting on one side fell to the floor.

“Did you expect to be?” Coriolanus edged a taunting tone into his voice, made confident by the audacity of this Plinth to assume right of opinion over Coriolanus’ marriage, as if that was even the primary concern at his age, as if that’s what he spent his hours mulling over.

“Ruin your own opportunities,” Strabo responded sharply. “I have and will continue to assist you, but I cannot and will not force it down your throat.”

“Please enlighten me as to why you believe I cannot be President if I spend time with Lucy Gray Baird.”

“Spend time,” Strabo scoffed. “You’re absolutely taken with her. How you reacted to the prospect of her being found… My negotiations with the Cardews are out the window, is all.”

The embarrassment of being perceived was almost as crushing as the revelation that Strabo had been negotiating Coriolanus’ own hand with wealthier families in the Capitol, alluding to the arrangement that Coriolanus had thought was private. What else would Livia Cardew’s father assume? Why else would Strabo Plinth have any stake in offering Coriolanus up like cattle? So it was known, then, that Coriolanus was taking money from Strabo like a servant.

Livia Cardew, his pinch-faced classmate. She had blonde hair the color of straw and wore clothes too tight for her, desperate to appear fuckable and special. She wasn’t anything but rich, and Coriolanus had already known that she wanted him. At several social occasions she’d stumbled into his chest, drunk and needy, her lips freshly glossed. He avoided touching her, moving away as quickly as she’d come, her nose wrinkling insecurely as he did. Coriolanus’ male peers couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t sleep with her or any of the other Capitol girls throwing themselves at him. Even Clemensia Dovecote, his former collaborator at the Academy, had expressed interest in the library just two weeks ago, running her hand up and down his thigh as they compared notes. Aside from his physical beauty, Coriolanus was seen as successful and equally intriguing, having survived a bout of District life and returned only wiser and stronger. He wasn’t concerned with the concept of a First Lady and found it deeply unattractive that a girl would pursue him solely for such a prospect. In fact, the notion alone further solidified Coriolanus’ determination to deny himself to them. Maybe he’d lead them on, or her, that stupid Livia, just to remind them that they would not have him. He wanted her to fantasize about what he could do to her, about his long blonde curls falling over his eyebrows, his full lips, his blue eyes. But a fantasy is all she would get. He would not give her the pleasure he reserved for Lucy Gray.

Coriolanus stood, feeling dizzy and done with the conversation. He didn’t want to discuss this any longer, already anxious at the insinuation that the object of his desire could compromise his rightful presidency. Wasn’t that the appeal in being President of Panem anyway? Getting everything you wanted? What else was such a title for?

“Thank you for your time,” he stated, brushing his hair back with a shaking hand. “Tell Mr. Cardew to come to me himself if he wants to bid on me. Have faith in me, Strabo, won’t you? Do you not?”

Strabo shook his head disapprovingly, pouring another whiskey as Coriolanus made his way out of the study. From behind him, Coriolanus heard only one empty response: “Tell Lucy Gray I said hello.”

-

Coriolanus awoke three days later to a different kind of call, his school books scattered across his bed and his shoes still on. He stumbled to the phone, eyes blurring. The only light in the room was a candle he’d accidentally left on, the wax almost entirely spent at the hands of endless burning.

His voice was thick with sleep as he murmured into the receiver, “Lucy Gray?”

A male voice barked back at him, rambling off paragraphs. In his tire, Coriolanus could only catch half of what the man was saying: “On the outskirts of District 13 territory… Scattered belongings, knew it was her by a dress hanging on a makeshift drawing line…”

“Her?” Coriolanus whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He rarely spoke this softly anymore. It reminded him of how he talked to her once, leaning toward her cage, making her sweet promises. “You have my Lucy Gray?”

“She’s fairly battered and starved, sir.”

“So feed her.”

“We are giving her what we can, sir. We are expected to arrive at the Capitol sometime tomorrow.”

“When?” Coriolanus was awake now, his vision clearing to take in the details of his bedroom, the space she’d soon come to know well.

“As fast as we can, sir.”

“Good, that’s right. As fast as you can.”

[snowisfallen]

Walls Could Talk

A shitty late night drabble about Coriolanus and Abigail and their toxic relationship inspired by the lyrics of Walls Could Talk by Halsey :)

warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of a physical fight,

PSA:yall in all seriousness, if ur partner lays a hand on you thats not okay ever, dont let toxic hot fictional blonde men convince u otherwise pls

A/N: uh if yall hate this or think its shitty im sorry :(

Been about three days and I'm comin' back I'm about four minutes from a heart attack And I think you make me a maniac But you don't know, oh

It had been three days since Abigail’s last exchange with Coriolanus Snow. a dangerous dance between passion and turbulence, left her teetering on the edge of emotional chaos. The toxic nature of their connection manifested in frequent conflicts, transforming arguments into battlegrounds where the lines between love and frustration blurred. The prolonged silence between their fights heightened her sense of unease, amplifying the feeling of insanity and stirring a storm of doubt within. But it had been three days, she missed his touch, and he had said sorry. So she came back to him even though she felt crazy for forgiving so easily.

Two years and we in between But we both been here since we 17

This relationship had been on and off for two years now, and right now she wasn't quite sure where they stood. Were they together again, were they not together again? She was sure that they were together but she knew she shouldn't just assume. They had been together since they were 17, she couldn't imagine life without him, even if it meant she had to put up with things she would never dare mention out loud to her friends.

Here we go, fist fight in a limousine But they don't know

The atmosphere inside the limousine took an unexpected turn when Abigail realized Coriolanus was already drunk. Tensions escalated when she confronted him, and what began as a disagreement morphed into a heated confrontation, which then turned into a tumultuous fistfight. The confined space of the luxurious vehicle intensified the emotional storm, with emotions reaching a boiling point. Bruised and emotionally drained, they arrived at the party, and before exiting the limousine, they both straightened up and put smiles on their faces, pretending the past 10 minutes hadn’t happened as they walked into the party, acting like the perfect couple that everyone thought they were.

And we both hope there's something But we bo-both keep fronting And it's a closed discussion

It was unspoken between the two of them that the relationship should have ended long ago, yet they couldn't help but hold on to a love that had already expired. It was an undiscussed topic, whether they should finally call it quits or not, Both continuing to pretend that this tumultuous relationship wasn't hurting them. 

And I'm thinking, "Damn, if these walls could talk" Well, they'd be like "Shit is crazy, right?" I ain't your baby no more

As she navigated the charade at the party, she couldn't shake the weight of the truth lingering in the walls of the limousine. If those walls could talk, they would unveil the heartbreaking narrative etched into their fabric—the whispers of passionate arguments, the echoes of painful turmoil, and the silent witness to a relationship veering into the realm of the inexplicable. In those moments of pretend normalcy, Abigail was acutely aware that the walls, had they possessed a voice, would have screamed the undeniable truth: that the version of love she clung to was fading, and the person she once knew as hers was slipping away. The limousine, a silent witness to their private struggles, seemed to embody the emotional distance that had grown between them. The unspoken revelation echoed in her mind, painting a stark picture of a relationship that had become more a theater of chaos than a sanctuary of love. She called it off that night.

Been about two weeks since you went away I'm about halfway through a Cabernet There I go, I'm wastin' a Saturday Sittin' at home

Two weeks after the breakup, Abigail found herself immersed in solitude, halfway through a bottle of Cabernet, as she spent her Saturday evening at home. The echoes of the past lingered in the air, and the quietude of her surroundings mirrored the emotional stillness within. She grappled with the residual emotions of the breakup, contemplating the significance of the choices made. Saturday, once a canvas for shared moments, now became a canvas for self-reflection, a necessary pause in the narrative of a relationship that had both shaped and tested her resilience.

Told my new roommate not to let you in But you're so damn good with a bobby pin Now you gon' play me like a violin Hittin' these notes

Abigail warned her new roommate against letting Coriolanus in, going so far as to even change the locks but her attempt was thwarted as he skillfully picked the lock with a bobby pin and infiltrated her space. In the face of his unexpected appearance, he began on a desperate plea, apologizing profusely and weaving a narrative that resonated with her vulnerabilities. His words, a carefully crafted symphony of remorse and promises, struck a chord that resonated with Abigail's yearning for resolution and connection. Despite her initial resolve, Coriolanus managed to utter the right words, tapping into the emotional undercurrents that still bound them. In a moment of vulnerability, she found herself swayed, uttering a hesitant "yes" that, for a fleeting moment, seemed to hold the promise of a renewed chapter, even as the shadows of their turbulent history loomed in the background.

And we both hope there's something But we bo-both keep fronting And it's a closed discussion And I'm thinking, "Damn, if these walls could talk" Well, they'd be like "Shit is crazy, right?" 

As they attempted one last time to rekindle the relationship, they engaged in a subtle game of emotional concealment, each afraid to expose the depth of their feelings. The subject of their connection remained a closed discussion, unspoken but palpable in the air between them. As they navigated this fragile moment, Abigail couldn't help but ponder the profound insights the walls of her space might share if they could speak. The unspoken truths, the untold desires, and the echoes of their shared history reverberated within the confines of the room, creating an unspoken tension that lingered like a silent conversation, waiting for the right moment to be unveiled. She couldn't escape the unspoken messages she imagined the walls would convey. If only they could talk, they might whisper a stark truth she was hesitant to fully embrace – "That ain't your baby no more." The walls, silent witnesses to the tumultuous journey of her relationship with Coriolanus, seemed to echo the sentiment that the connection, once so intimately entwined, had now slipped through her grasp. The phrase lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the transformative power of time and the irreversible changes that had reshaped the contours of their shared history. In the quietude of her thoughts, Abigail grappled with the weight of those unsaid words, questioning the nature of her evolving relationship and the path she was reluctantly navigating.

I ain't your baby no more  Hey! No more I ain't your baby no more

Abigail arrived at a poignant realization that resonated with the unspoken truths hanging in the air. No more, he wasn't hers anymore. The weight of that acknowledgment settled in her heart, carrying the bittersweet resonance of letting go. The walls, if they could articulate her sentiments, would echo the profound shift in the dynamics of their connection. In that moment of clarity, Abigail confronted the stark reality that the ties binding them had frayed irreversibly. The words lingered in her thoughts, a sobering admission that marked the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter where she grappled with the echoes of what once was, while navigating the uncharted territory of a future without him as hers.

[prettybiching]

THIS ATE SO HARD AHHHHHHHHHHH

BRO FUCK CORIOLANUS I WANT READER SHE'S SO FNVGGR

also also also THE ENDING WTF CORYO IM IN YOUR WALLS

I need him on his knees, pleading and begging for forgiveness because fuck you

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

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

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

chapter: 4/?

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: 6.3k (🫠)

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

a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year <33

dividers by @bunnysrph

Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.

Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.

The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.

He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?

But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.

You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

You wanted to play? Fine.

He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.

Let the games begin.

Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.

“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.

Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.

It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.

You’d gotten under his skin.

Finally.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”

His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.

“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”

Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.

He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.

He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.

“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”

His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.

“Very cute, sweetheart.”

You smirked.

“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”

His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.

“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”

He scoffed, watching as you got closer.

“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”

You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.” He said tightly.

You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.

“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”

“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.

“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”

It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.

You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.  

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.

“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”

“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”

“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”

His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.  

“You really are a whore.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”

He huffed.

“Why?”

“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.

He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.  

“Fuck.” He whispered.

It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.

Any time now.

“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”

His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.

Almost there.

“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”

A loud rap sounded at the door.

There it is.

You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.

“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”

“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”

He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.

“You bitch. You knew.”

“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”

He scoffed, meeting your eye again.

“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”

“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.

“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”

He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.

“I’ll be right out.” He called.

You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.

“Let me.” You reached out again.

“Fine.”

Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.

“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.

The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.

“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”

“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.

“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”

With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.

At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.

Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.

You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.

A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.

So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.

It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.

One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.

You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.

You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.

Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.

You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.

Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.

That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.

“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”

Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.

“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”

Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.

“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”

My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.

“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”

“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”

“With the owner and his crazy beard.”

“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”

Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”

Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.

He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.

“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”

“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”

“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.

You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.

He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.

“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”

You blinked.

“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”

“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.

You smiled, meeting his eye.

“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”

“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”

You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.

“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”

Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.

You considered it. Briefly.

But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.

So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.

“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”

“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-

“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”

With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.

You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.

“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.

“What you did was different, and you know that."

"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."

If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.

"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”

You laughed.

“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”

He moved in closer.

“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”

You set your jaw. Shrugged.

“Okay.”

He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.

“Okay?” He repeated.

“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”

You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.

“You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.

“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”

His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”

Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.

“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.

And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.

You slowed.

“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”

He hummed, crossing his arms.

“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.

“I waited for you.” You said quietly.

He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”

His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.

“Okay. What is it you want?”

You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.

“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.

“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.

“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”

He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.

You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.

There he is.

“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded, flushing under his stare.

“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.

You nodded again, and he tutted.

“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”

“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.

“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.” He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.

“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.

He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Please.”

“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”

“Coriolanus.”

He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.

“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.

You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.

“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”

“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.

“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”

You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.

“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.

You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.

“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.

“Do you now?”

“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.

“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”

“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”

A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.

This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.

The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.

“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”

His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.

He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.

After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.

You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.

This was what power felt like.

He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.

“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”

Fuck.

“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.

“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.

“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.

“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”

“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”

He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.

“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”

“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Good girl.” He smiled.

“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.

He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.

“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.

“You close again, baby?”

You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.

“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”

You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.

You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.

“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”

“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”

You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.  

“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”

He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.

“No.”

His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.

“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.

He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.

“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”

You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.

“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”

He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.

“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”

“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”

a/n: sorry mom

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[ladyaislinn-purewhite]

Deutsche Zitate

"Ich esse keinen Kaugummi und auch keine Schokolade, in meinen Kaffee gebe ich Molasse. Ich stimuliere mein Haar nach einem Rezept von Anthony Perkins. Mein Schönheitstipp: legen Sie nach langen Nächten warme, feuchte Teebeutel auf die Augen. Rauchen tu ich seit 30 Jahren nicht mehr.

Was Christopher Walken nicht mag: Autofahren, Pferde, Sonne, Schießeisen, Lärm, schlechten Geruch, Menschenansammlungen, Reisen (besonders im Flugzeug), Power lines in a vista.. (Starkstromleitungen in einer schönen Aussicht), Technik (er besitzt keinen Computer oder Handy und trägt keine Armbanduhr), Umweltverschmutzung, Smelling Houses ("Wenn ein Haus riecht, könnte ich nicht drinnen wohnen"); Neckties (Krawatten) oder andere Arten von strangulierenden Objekten; oft trägt er ausgelatschte Schuhe oder Hausanzüge, die ein anderer längst entsorgt hätte. Filme, in denen er reiten oder in den Dschungel muss.... *Ich mag keine Waffen. Ich würde nie auf einem Motorrad fahren. Ich werde mich auch nicht (mehr) auf ein lebendiges Pferd setzen, wenn es sich bewegt. Ich setze mich auf ein Pferd, aber sobald es einen Schritt macht, tu ich es nicht. In den Western-Filmen, die ich gedreht habe, setze ich mich rauf und ein anderer reitet davon [Anm: ?? Heaven's Gate? Milagro Beanfield War??] Viele sagen, dass Pferde sanftmütig sind, aber ich glaube es nicht; sie machen, was sie wollen. Und was die Waffen betrifft: Haben Sie je bemerkt, dass ich sie, falls ich welche benütze, ganz falsch halte? Ich ziele die meiste Zeit in die falsche Richtung. Wenn ich den Hahn ziehe, zucke ich fast zurück und schließe meine Augen. Manchmal drehe ich sogar den Kopf zur Seite...

Er mag: Schwarz, seine Arbeit (Filme machen), seine Frau, Tanzen, Kochen, Witze, seine Katzen, sein Zuhause, Vögel füttern vor einem Interview, tägliche Routine (um 20 Uhr ins Bett und um 6 Uhr morgens raus)...Henry, le chat noir on Youtube Wenn er nicht arbeitet, sitzt er zu Hause, liest Magazine, isst Eiscreme und schaut am liebsten Charlie Rose und Jerry Springer im Fernsehen. Muhammad Ali (von dem hat er sogar ein gerahmtes Autogramm auf einer Boxerhose) (..) 'Walken leads me into the study and points to the framed white boxer’s shorts on the wall. “Those are Muhammed Ali’s. Autographed. Taken off right after a fight. And never washed,” he adds proudly'.(from: All I want to do is feel the warmth, 1973) Frauen sollten sich benehmen dürfen wie Männer in Griechenland: Kartenspielen, Kaffee und Wein trinken den ganzen Tag über, und am Morgen ihre Kleider über dem Pyjama anziehen. Er mag außerdem gute Sprüche: "I wasn`t born to play this part. I was born to have a nice life and not strain [anstrengen] myself too much." (R. Mitchum) "I´m the author of myself." (Coriolanus) (...) you have to protect your talent. That’s the trick I suppose. What somebody has called, ‘Building the bridge between the monk and the beast’.  Isn’t that a good line?” (CW über Graham Greene). Er träumt "in Technicolor"...(so wie ich..hahaaa) In ihrem Haus in Manhattan erinnert sich Georgianne an ihr erstes Date mit Chris:" Er war so hübsch und stattlich, wie ein Ritter in seiner glänzenden Rüstung."

[s6ngbird]

flowers from beneath — ACT III

series masterlist || navigation

[ warnings ] — NSFW, non-con, mentions of oral (f. revieveing), throat fucking, dacryphilia, kidnapping, lmk if i missed anything

[ pairing ] — hades!coriolanus snow x persephone!reader

[ a/n ] — im sorry this took so long, i had no idea what to do with this and was slumping all weekend

[ beta read by THE MOTHER OF ALL CORYO FICS @etfrin ]

when you awoke you felt a strange pressure between your legs

it wasn't uncomfortable, it felt good but you really had no idea what it was

it felt like the energy had been sucked out of you so you did your best to at least sit up and see what this foreign pressure was

your eyes widen, seeing a head with blonde hair, an unfamiliar face or rather head

coriolanus felt your thighs shift from where he was holding them down and looked up, chin covered in your juices and smiled at you

he got up from the ground, crawling on top of you with hungry eyes

“you're awake, i didn't expect you to awake during this” he says, smiling and kissing you

your eyes widen, unsure of who this man was. he was vaguely familiar to you but you couldn’t remember where you had seen him before

you tried to think back about how you got here, but the man kissing you did nothing to help you think

you remember that you had gone to go pick the rose you saw in the meadow and you fell through the ground but that was it

after the man stopped kissing you, he got off of you, pulling a pair of pants on and you immediately panicked

what had he done to you while you were asleep?

he came over to you, grabbing your wrists and a rope, tying your hands to the bed frame and gave you a kiss before pulling on a shirt and left the room

you didn't know what to do anymore, you didn't even know who this man was, yet he knew you and kidnapped you

not only that but you were completely stripped of any clothing or garments that you had previously been wearing

you looked around, trying to see if there was anything you could grab with your feet to undo the ropes but it seems that the man had already thought of that, the room being completely empty of any weapons

your eyelids felt heavy again, you had put a lot of effort into thrashing around and screaming at the top of your lungs to at least get the attention of someone outside these four walls

you gave up, letting sleep take over your body and relaxing until you heard the door open again and the blonde man shouting at someone

he shut the door, taking a second to catch his breath and looked at you, giving you a lopsided smile as if he just remembered that you were there

“sorry about that, i unfortunately work with incompetent people” he says, coming over to the bed and kissing your cheek before going to his closet

“what time is it?” you said, voice hoarse after not talking for a while

“well we don't have much of a time system down here but on earth it would be around…five pm maybe? we can eat dinner soon if you're hungry” he continued, taking off his shirt and settling on the bed with you

you nod, your stomach growling from not eating anything since yesterday 

he stroked your face as you thought for a while, trying to figure out what to ask him

“what's your name?” you ask, looking into his eyes, god they were like the ocean, you could get lost in them for ages

“coriolanus but you can call me coryo, it's easier” coriolanus said, smiling at you and starting to undo the rope on your hands

“i brought you some food so after i untie you, we can eat together ok?” he finished untying you, placing a tray in front of you and taking a spoon of rice and holding it up to your mouth

you were so hungry you didn't even care about how humiliating this was, you would certainly complain about it later when you have the energy

once you were done eating, he looked at you expectantly and you furrowed your brows, unsure of what he wanted now

“what do you say doll?” he said, moving the tray to the desk in the room

“oh…thank you coryo” you said, using his nickname he gave you

“you're very welcome dove, i think there's another way you could say thank you, after all i gave you so much to eat” he says, taking your chin in his hand and kissing you hungrily 

“how so?” you ask with some curiosity, unsure of a different way to say thank you besides saying it verbally

“get on your knees” he demanded suddenly, confusing you

you didn't move, still shocked while he takes his hand That was on your chin before and wraps it around your hair in a tight fist, pulling you to the ground and as you scream in pain

he tied your wrists together with the rope, keeping his hand in your hair as he undid his belt 

“here's what's going to happen, you're going to sit here and not move like a good girl while i fuck your face, understand?” coriolanus asks, pulling down his pants

your eyes widen at his cock, it was long and the tip was red, leaking precum

he laughed at your wide eyed expression pumping his cock a few times before tapping it on your lips

“open up doll, be a good girl for me” he said as you hesitantly opened your mouth, coriolanus grinned as he slid his dick fully into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat

you gagged, trying to gasp for air and he cooed at you

“c'mon princess don't be like that, just suck it like a lollipop” he said stroking your cheek and you complied, afraid he would pull your hair again

he starts out slowly, wanting to make sure your gag reflex wouldn't be so bad but when he saw you all teary eyed and drooling all over his cock, he couldn't help it

he slammed his dick at an ungodly pace, making you cry out and trying to move away, but since your hands were bound together from the rope that coriolanus had put on them before this, you couldn't escape him

“don't cry, it's all going to be ok, you should be thanking me anyway” he laughs, continuing his assault on your throat

it doesn't take long for his hips to stutter, emptying his load down your throat and making you swallow it as he pulls out, putting on the pair of boxers that he was wearing before

he picked you up, putting you down in his bed while he laid next to you, pulling the covers over both of you and holding you close

“what do you say?” coriolanus asked, stroking your face

you don't dare look at him, afraid that you'll submit to him if you do but he kisses you all over, not stopping until he hears those words come out of your mouth

“thank you sir” you say, covering yourself as he smirks, kissing you once more before drifting off to sleep with you in his arms