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toomanythoughts4myhead · 1 year ago

Text

Woven from the same thread

[Part 2] [Masterlist]

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

Pairing: Sub!Coriolanus Snow x Dom!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lost the battle. He lost the war.

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

You would break him soon enough

You started it small.

Phase 1:

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

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

Phase 2:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I made a mistake, y/n."

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

"Come here, Coriolanus."

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

What had you done to him?

"Kneel"

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

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

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

"I dont believe you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Beg. Show me how sorry you are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was safe.

His family was safe.

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

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

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

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

Phase 0:

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

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

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

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

Coriolanus wasn't a good person.

You were simply better at being bad.

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littlemissmiller · 5 months ago

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Bird in a Cage

Part 2: Wanted and Needed

Pairing: dark!coriolanus x fem!reader

Summary: after spending another night in the palace, president snow has many things planned for you, and he just loves to dress you up.

Warning: 21+ (drinking), eventually smut, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping, obsession, possession, stalking

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: hello 👋🏼 ok so…i think i may be able to get another fic out today im thinking chapter 4 of Summer Highs will be ready today sooo just hang in there. this series however, the heat is turning up and we definitely got a smutty moment coming up (also im still working still The Shopkeeper’s Daughter part 2 y’all I promise I’ll get it done) so enjoy this one y’all, i know i did ❤︎︎

Series Masterlist

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The next morning you realize that you must have fallen asleep in the bathroom as you pull yourself up from the cold tile. Your neck and back hurts and you strain to turn it. You slowly get up and walk back into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed. You curl up, wanting to go back to sleep again, but you hear a knock that jolts you up.

“Yes?”

The same maid from last night enters. She’s holding a new outfit in her hand.

“Good morning. President Snow wishes to see you in this today. He also wishes to have you join him for breakfast so please change and knock when you’re done.”

“Tell him I didn’t sleep well last night and I want to rest. Please.” You plea

“I’m sorry, but these are my orders.” She frowns, holding the dress out in front of her.

You take it and hold it up. It’s a delicate blue, almost the same color as his eyes. It’s flowy, the shoulders slightly puffed out and the neckline is off the shoulder. She also hands you a pair of white heels and leaves the room. You want to cry again, but feel too physically exhausted to be able to. You begrudgingly roll out of bed and change.

Once all done up, you walk over to the door and knock on it. The maid and the two armed guards are waiting outside and you walk with them. This time they take you to a separate part of the palace, up the stairs and into a larger dining room. As you walk you take note of your surroundings, and continue plotting how you’re going to get out of here without him knowing. You might have to disappear for a while, but you’re not about to let him rip you from your life completely.

When you enter, he’s waiting, alone, sipping his tea and reading the paper. He glances up and smiles.

“Come sit my dear.“

The maid leaves, but the armed guards take their post just outside the room. You slowly walk towards and take the seat across from him.

“You look beautiful. I know how to dress you well, it seems.”

“Is this what you made the other girls wear?”

“No.” He flips the page “I tailor my outfits accordingly for each of you.”

“So what does that mean?”

“That dress, that black set? It’s yours. Anything I give you under my care is yours forever, understand?”

“Yes, President Snow.”

“Good girl. After lunch today I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and I’ll have my masseuse come see you.”

“W-why?” You scrunch your face up

“Because you need it don’t you. You slept on the bathroom floor all night.” He smiles

“Thank you.” You mumble, shyly looking away

“You truly look gorgeous this morning. I should have one of the maids curl your hair before you change for dinner this evening.”

“You want me to change again?”

“Of course my dear. One should always look as presentable as possible when they have an evening meal with guests.”

“I normally only do it for special events.” You speak up

“And dinner with the president isn’t special?” He smirks, turning the page again.

You watch him as an uncomfortable silence washes into the room. Then a few avoxes walk into the room with silver trays. Coriolanus pays them no mind, but is interested in what they contain under the stainless steel cloche. They first lay out the silverware, then lift it and serve the plates. It’s a perfectly made French omelette , topped off with chives and a small pad of butter that is still melting, with crumbled crispy potatoes sprinkled over the whole thing. Next to it sits a small slice of toast with a raspberry jam. They then sat down a tea kettle, two silver teacups and served them steaming black tea. Lastly, they leave a pitcher of orange juice and two short glasses. They quietly exit the room and Coriolanus stirs his tea before sipping it.

You look down at your plate then glance up at him. He folds the paper up, making sure the edges are crisp and clean. He notices you watching him and gives a devilish half smile.

“You can start eating if you want.”

You nod and take a bite. Immediately you can taste how smooth and creamy it is. You can taste the ingredients piped inside, an herbed goat cheese and it melts in your mouth. You savor the taste, loving the texture of the egg as it dances with the cheese. Coriolanus takes it upon himself to pour you some juice and you have a strange urge to apologize. You set down your fork and try to say sorry but he cuts you off.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind my dear, here.” He utters

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Good girl.” He whispers as you take the glass to your lips.

“So what’s after breakfast?”

“I have a meeting with the Game Makers, a more formal welcome to the new additions than a fancy gala, and you’ll be modeling those dresses I was telling you about.”

“I thought that was just a lie you told my family.”

“Not entirely. You are a model by trade after all, no?”

“I am”

“Well, we need models for this year’s games to advertise the upcoming looks and you’re a model. Seems pretty straightforward no?”

“So you just want me to play dress up for you all day then?” You question, raising an eyebrow

He gives you a stern look and cocks his head. He scoffs.

“Don’t have such an attitude, my dear. It’s not fitting for a First Lady.”

You sit wordless for a moment, scared but also pissed. Fuck him. Fuck this First Lady shit. You desperately wanted to tell him off, but you utter a small apology.

“Good. It won’t even take up your entire day, I made sure of that. After my meeting, I expect you to join me for lunch. I think you’ll like it.”

“Why is that?”

“I asked to have it be served to us in the garden. I thought I’d show you around after.”

“Around the garden?”

“Yes.” He states simply “Are you enjoying your omelette?” He asks, taking a bite of his own.

“It’s delicious. Everything you’ve served me has been amazing.” You state truthfully

“I’m glad you think so.” He smiles, then he holds out his hand. You look at it and he turns his palm over. You hesitantly place just your fingertips on top of his hand. He grasps it and pulls it forward, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. He rubs them gently, smiling at you.

“You’re so beautiful. I hope to make you mine.”

“Why do you think I will please you?”

“Hmm, I bet you don’t remember meeting me at the Gala?”

“N-no?”

He smiles wider, scanning your face to see if you remember anything at all from that night.

Coriolanus goes on to explain how he first saw you and how he approached you, asking you to join his private table. You of course said yes, so he took you by the hand and led you to his group. You sat with him, he gave you lots of wine, and eventually he sent you “home”, allegedly kissing your cheek as he got you into the car, and sent you off to his house. At some point he had indeed drugged your drink and you woke up in the palace instead. You hadn’t woken up the next day, but instead spent two days asleep, the power of the drugs had lured you into a deep sleep, and now you’re having breakfast with him.

“I have your dress from that night by the way. It looked stunning on your body. Red is a great color on you.”

“Thank you”

“Perhaps I’ll have you wear it tonight, to dinner. What do you think, my lovely?”

“I would like to have my dress back.”

“Of course. Like I said, whatever I give you is yours.”

“Well the dress was already mine.” You snicker

You immediately freeze, realizing your tongue may have gotten the best if you, but he merely reciprocates your actions.

“You can’t help but to be such a clever girl hmm?” He kisses your knuckles again

“If you say so. You didn’t answer my question though. Why do you think I’ll please you?”

“Because you were pleasant that night. Funny, charming, easy to be around. My team believes I’ve become too wild and rambunctious. They say I need to settle down and to an extent, I agree. I can’t help but want to enjoy my wealth these days. While I’m still young I don't care, if you understand me?”

You nod along and he continues.

“I figure, most people show who they really are when they meet me. Whether it’s to impress me or win over my favor, I can always see a person’s true intentions. Through whatever facade they come with, I can see their truth.”

“And did you see me then? What was my front?”

“Nothing. You had nothing to hide.” He leans forward “Which is why I find you so special.” He whispers

He rubs your hand, giving your knuckles one last kiss before letting your hand go. You pull it back quickly and relax it on your lap. Then a small ding ding ding cries out from his pocket. He digs around and retrieves his pocket watch. He raises his eyebrows.

“Ah, I have to go my dear!” He claims as he returns the watch back into his jacket. He stands up and moves to stand behind your chair. He places his hands on your shoulders and massages them.

“I’ll see you for lunch.” He bends down to kiss your cheek “and then for dinner.” He kisses you again “be good today my sweets, I have something for you later if you behave. Will you be ok to dine alone for the rest of breakfast?”

You nod and he tilts your face to look at his. With the smallest touch of his forefinger, he lifts your chin so you look at him fully. Coriolanus gives you a curious frown and you know what he wants.

“Yes, President Snow, I’ll be ok to dine alone.”

“Good girl, the maid will escort you to get ready when you’re done, but take your time.”

He smirks, giving your cheek one last kiss. He squeezes your shoulders, sighs, smirks again to himself, and walks away.

You feel as if you can finally breathe, letting out an immense sigh of relief as you hear the door close. You look down at your food and don’t feel like you can realistically finish it. You stand up and knock on the door. The maid opens it and escorts you out. She takes you through the palace, not taking you back to your room.

“Where are we going?” You inquire

“The lounge, that’s where the photo shoot is happening.”

You follow her, still noting the layout of the palace as you walk around. You finally reach a set of tall double doors and the maid opens it, escorting you inside. The room is similar to his office, same crème walls, accented with gold, red Chesterfield lounge chairs

“Ah wonderful!” A man cries out as you enter the room. He’s holding a camera in one hand the other setting up the tripod stand for it to sit on. “Come in dear!” He states enthusiastically. You look around the room and notice several other people getting things together.

“H-hi” you quiver

“The President said you’re a model by trade?”

“I am”

“Splendid! Then I’ll have you change into that first dress on the rack and will move our way down.”

He points to a rack of dress and a room divider in the corner and you nod. You walk over to it and examine the dresses. It seems like they are for District 12, given they are all gray and black. Coal. Of course Snow would want the contestants to dress like this. Parade them around a bit as the very goods that are used to fuel the capital. Almost as a double reminder of who they serve. You look at the first dress. It’s a corset style top with a short length skirt. Around the bottom was a thin layer of black tulle. You take it and step behind the divider to change. You step out and a woman approaches you.

“Beautiful! Let’s fix up your hair and makeup.” She smiles, escorting you over to a vanity.

After about an hour of hair weaving and being all done up like a doll, she shows you a mirror. She’s weaved your hair into several small braids, which she then weaved into a big, ponytail, that sits directly in the top of your head. Your makeup is a clean smoky eye, and you honestly look sexy.

“Ok so it’s very simple just posing with the chairs and other parts of the room.” She explains and walks back over to the camera man.

“Ok my dear let’s have you lay out here. Back on the seat, and kick your feet up, yes, that's it lovely.” He instructs, setting up the camera to be in frame. “Up a bit more, your left leg, that's beautiful.”

You look into the camera, feeling completely comfortable for the first time since being here. This is your element. This is what you’re good at. It’s not all about looking pretty, it’s about selling the look to the audience, the viewer, the buyer and most importantly the person who wears it. You pose in a few more positions on the couch and lose yourself in the fun. That’s another part of this job you’ve liked. The fun. The freedom and the ability to dress up, almost become a different person. It transforms you.

“Beautiful. Ok let’s do a few more in the next dress. Ok dear?”

“Sounds good.”

The next dress you change into is a deep v, showing off the curves and valley of your breasts, stopping just above your stomach. It’s like a huge gemstone, every part of it beaded and bedazzled. It fits perfectly, just how the other one fits and you walk out from behind the divider.

“Oh that’s beautiful! The President sure does have good taste.”

“President Snow picked these out?”

“Of course. He does every year.” The photographer smiles, beckoning you to him. You pose in front of the couch some more, and now find that you feel slightly uncomfortable again. You can’t help but feel Snow’s eyes on you again. Perhaps he’s watching you in this room too. You try not to think of it as you stare into the camera lens, but it only makes you feel more watched.

“Hey dear? You ok?” The cameraman questions, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You smile “Just wondering about the other models. Am I going to be shooting with them?” You inquire, seeing if maybe you can talk to one and ask for help.

Maybe someone could get a message out without Snow knowing

You think.

“Not today, but tomorrow we will do all 12, right now we are just getting individuals for each district.”

“Where are the other girls?” You inquire, trying to sound casual

“District Two!”

You nod and the cameraman continues, encouraging you as you pose for him. So you have more modeling tomorrow. You wonder when he was going to tell you and that’s the last thought you have of him during the session. A few more dresses later and your stomach starts to growl. You hold it instinctively, wincing in pain.

“A few more shots and we’ll break for lunch beautiful. That’s it, look here, a little more to the left…a little more, yes perfect!” The camera flashes rapidly. “Ok team! Let’s break for lunch, we’ll come back in an hour and a half and finish up.”

The stylist starts to pack up and the cameraman starts to disassemble his tripod. One of the stylists helps you with your hair and wipes off your makeup.

“We’ll do a new style after lunch, ok dear?” You nod somberly, knowing that lunch for you means lunch with him. As you wipe the rest of your makeup off, the maid walks in with another change of clothes.

“Another outfit?” You examine it and she nods wordlessly. It’s a white dress, knee length, with slightly puffy sleeves. On top is a white hair bow and a pair of white, strapped sandals. You sigh and take it from her. By the time you change, it’s just you and the maid. You also take down your hair, it falls out, now slightly curled from being woven up. She walks you out and around the back of the palace. You eventually arrive at a big sliding glass door that opens into the garden and you can see him in the distance.

Coriolanus is admiring one of his many white rose bushes. He picks one and twirls it in his fingers. You approach him, your footsteps quiet and he doesn’t hear you at first. You step on a leaf, causing him to look up. He smiles, oh so happy to see you.

“Hello my dear.” He greets you stepping towards you.

You stop in front of him and he reaches out his hand to feel your hair. He plays with in between his thumb and forefinger. He takes in your scent, smiling greedily.

“Come darling. I know you must be hungry. Why didn’t you finish your breakfast?” He asks sweetly

Of course he knows. He must have his people keeping track of your meals, the amount you’re eating.

“Was it not good?” He follows up when you don’t answer immediately

“No, sir. It was fine, it’s just that my appetite hasn't been the same since I got here.”

“My darling, you should have told me what you wanted. I want you to be cared for well since you’re being so good for me”

“I-I am hungry though. W-what’s for lunch” you stutter

“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it again.”

You walk with him through the garden and he hands you the rose he was playing with.

“For you.”

“Thank you President Snow.” You nod, taking the steam in your hand

“You’re most welcome my sweets” he smiles, his charming lips curling up almost sinisterly.

You walk a bit more, admiring the other flowers in the garden, and how green everything is. He takes you a bit further until you pass the greenhouse. Around on the other side is a neat table for two looking out into the fountains and waterways. It’s set up with silverware sets and empty wine glasses. In the center is a cylindrical wine cooler and a bottle sitting in it. You’re slightly taken aback at the slight and want to hate how beautifully romantic it is because you’re here with Snow and not someone that you actually love. That you’d actually want to be on a date with. You sigh to yourself, but he notices.

“What’s wrong my angel. Here come sit.” He pats the white iron garden chair and you reluctantly follow his orders.

“Would you like some white wine?” He asks

“Yes please. Thank you, President Snow.” You nod, taking a seat. He sits across from you and uncorks the bottle. He pours you a fair amount and then himself.

“I just recently started having a drink with lunch. It’s nice to go into the rest of the afternoon feeling less tense. And I can still get everything done.” It works out well.”

You nod and look around. It’s hard not to feel somewhat at peace in such a beautiful environment. You avoid his gaze, even though he’s eyeing you like his prey. You glance at him and take a nervous drink of your wine.

“How was your meeting?” You quip up

Coriolanus perks up at the question, his smile widening.

“I appreciate you asking my dear. So thoughtful.” He pauses, sipping his wine. “It was honestly mundane, but productive nonetheless. I’m excited for you to see this year’s upcoming games. We really want to do something new for the 20th Anniversary. “

“Sounds exciting” you lie

“My dear, do you not enjoy the games?”

“I-I never said that…”

“You didn’t need to.” He pauses again, leaning forward. “Tell me if someone you trusted, perhaps even someone you loved, betrayed you, tried to kill you, starve you out, all because they wanted what they couldn’t provide for themselves. Just to take from you, would you simply forgive them…”

“It would be hard, I don’t think I would though…”

“Exactly! Even those we hold close to us can soon turn into a predator and us, the prey. We must never forget our human nature calls for us to given into our animalistic instincts in the most desperate of times. And that’s the biggest game out of them all. Pretending to uphold civility, pretending that we don’t truly want to devour each other for power.” He gives you a devious look, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“And wanting to devour each other in other ways…”

You nervously look away, out onto the garden. He reaches across the table and tilts your chin to him.

“Look at me beautiful. Don’t be shy with me. Tell me, do you think I’m wrong?”

“No sir, you're not wrong President Snow”

“Good girl.” He whispers

He holds for face and moments later, a few avoxes enter. They once again wheel out a cart similar to the one at lunch, serving up the plates. They take the covers off and reveal what appears to be a tomato soup and a grilled cheese with bacon. It seems unusual at first and you notice how he watches your expression.

“Basil tomato soup, and grilled cheese with bacon, Gouda, white cheddar and apple slices. I think you’ll find it a unique twist on a classic.”

“It smells and looks delicious.”

“Of course. Dig in my dear.” He scoots in, taking his sandwich and biting into it. You pick up your own as well, dunking it in the soup. As soon as the flavor hits your mouth, they storm off into a wonderful dance. You’re not sure how it’s possible, but every meal is as amazing as the last. You sip on your wine to get it down and it pairs perfectly with the taste.

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow

You nod and he gives you a stern look.

“Yes, President Snow.”

“I knew you’d like it. After this you’ll finish up the photo shoot, then I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and curl your hair. I want you absolutely perfect for dinner. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, I understand” you nod

“Excellent! So tell me how’s the shoot going?”

“Good. It’s nice to feel comfortable here. Modeling has always made me feel good about myself.”

“Does it? Tell me more.”

You're stunned. Like a deer in headlights, you feel frozen by the question. You pause for a moment and you watch as he waits patiently for your response.

“Well I guess when I was a teenager people would tell me how beautiful I was, but I had a hard time believing it and then one day a friend of mine wanted me to try on some clothes and take pictures in it and I just felt natural, I finally felt beautiful.”

Coriolanus reaches for your hand and you put it in his. He kisses your knuckles gently.

“Who ever said you’re not beautiful?” He says, a puzzled look spreading on his face

“N-no one.”

“Then why would you think that you’re not beautiful?”

You pause for a moment and look down again. He squeezes your hand, his face drooping and you gaze into his eyes. They are so mesmerizing. A deep ocean blue, and they compel you to speak freely from your heart. You stutter at first then relax once more under the feeling of his lips meeting your hand once more.

“My mother, she was very superficial when it came to physical appearance. I always felt like I had to please her by looking nice.“ you confess

Coriolanus squeezes your hand even more tight and looks down at his lap. He contains his newfound anger at your mother and then looks back up with a soft smile.

“You are truly beautiful my dear. As long as you’re in my care, I’ll make sure you always feel beautiful and never think that way again. Okay?”

“Yes, Mr. President “

“Good girl.” He kisses your knuckles one last time

After lunch, he sends you off to model the rest of the dresses and you ponder his words. You think about his face, the way he looked as if he might fall apart by simply hearing about your insecurities. How he wants to fix them and cast them away from your mind. Forever. And the way he has arranged your time here. The modeling, the photoshoots, as if he knew that’s when you felt most beautiful. You want to hate it, but there is a part of you that feels cared for. Wanted. Needed. In a way you haven’t before.

꧁🝮꧂

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rainagainstthewindowatnight · 3 months ago

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rachel zegler & kit connor as romeo and juliet on broadway, september 29th 2024

#romeo and juliet #romeo & juliet #broadway #rachel zegler #kit connor #thg #hunger games #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #heartstopper #pale aesthetic #paleedit #palegifs #west side story #cuties #everlark in another life #everlark

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cowboyandasongbird · 2 months ago

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there i was again tonight. forcing laughter, faking smiles. same old tired, lonely place. walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when i saw your face– all i can say is, it was enchanting to meet you. | a cowboy and his songbird. william h. bonney & lucy gray baird.

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snowbirdbaird · 5 months ago

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army dreamers….

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overfeeler · 1 year ago

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Tigris Snow

I can’t find words that would describe how much I loved her character and how Hunter Schafer is a perfect casting for this role.

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katnissmellarkkk · 1 year ago

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t h e w o m e n o f t h e

h u n g e r g a m e s

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snowcote · 14 days ago

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This is so adult Coriolanus and adult Clemensia! They’re both giving rich it couple!

#snowcote #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus x clemensia #hunger games #clemensia dovecote #coriolanus snow #clemensia #coriolanus #capitol aesthetic #thg series #time skip #Capitol fashion #president snow #Thg aesthetic

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mrspeetamellark · 1 year ago

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Aesthetic: Lucy Gray Baird, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

#lucy gray baird #lucy gray #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas aesthetic #tbosas edit #the hunger games #the hunger games aesthetic #thg #edit by me #edit by mrspeetamellark

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fictionaltrvlr · 1 year ago

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You Can’t Catch Me Now ~ Songbirds & Snakes

cutout credits

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #you can’t catch me now #olivia rodrigo #lyrics #tbosas aesthetic #thg wallpaper #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games aesthetic #rachel zegler #tom blyth #my shuffles #myphotoedittag:)

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swiftiesoliloquies · 4 months ago

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toomanythoughts4myhead · 1 year ago

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Backwards reflection

Summary: Coriolanus deals wiht the war inside his head. You might be too alike after all, but maybe that's why you need each other. Facing the ugly sides is a mirror you have grown to love.

Pairing: Sub!Coriolanus Snow x Dom!reader

Warnings: Coriolanus and reader (edge lords who are a bit fucked in the head), angst, making out, fighting, lots of inner angst and bad emotions for both parties, brief fight, kissing, technically some nudity(nothing happens just touch starvation)

A/N: this tired me out emotionally and physically but I live making this man pathetic. Part three will include smut.(finally)

Word count: 3.2k

[Part 1] [Masterlist]

Coriolanus Snow who never acted out after the incident. Sure there were times where your behavior got on his nerves but you'd grown familiar with his responses and moods so you soothed his anger with a loving touch and he as always gave in.

Coriolanus Snow who had never realized how good it felt to be spoiled. He had never allowed himself the thought of relinquishing his control in any way to someone, it was all he had during the harder days. But with you here? Sure you hadnt given him much of a choice in the beginning, but you cared for him in the transactional way he did for you.

You loved each other the only way you could, and most days that was enough.

Most of his time was still spent juggling the Academy and keeping his reputation pristine but there was no need to be as obsessed with it as before. He'd give himself a breather sit and smell the roses(literaly). He'd sit in parks and indulge in using the lavish Capitol public transport with the card you'd given him. He discovers how limited his world has been, it hadn't occurred to him to think about the spaces inbetween the Academy and his home. He visits parks and gardens, cafes and restaurants. He meets a lot of his classmates outside of school, albeit it involuntarily, but still he indulges in their company now that the look of their inherited riches doesn't make him sick. He strengthens his bonds and positions. He feels good.

☆Coriolanus Snow who enjoys life under your thumb. You are aware of everything he does, who he meets and where he goes, what he buys. He never asks from where you get your information, you never answer anyways. He is behaving himself for now, so you alow him to roam freely but both of you know you'll clip his wings faster than he could comprehend if it came down to it.

☆Coriolanus Snow who spends most of his free time with you. At first it felt obligatory to be seen with you but now seeing you, talking with you, eating praise at the palm of your hand it felt like second nature.

You'd attend parties together, matching clothes in reds and whites. At first you'd allowed for his tailored clothes to show the symbol of his family but slowly you'd started to incorporate the crest of your family on it instead. Soon enough he was walking around branded as yours.

☆Coriolanus Snow who on good days felt triumphant, like he had won the lottery with this deal. Who would beam at you as you'd eat in some fancy restaurant, intertwining your hands together and going as far as to feed you from his plate if he deemed the dish so good.

☆Coriolanus who nuzzles his cheek into yours and the tip of his cold nose brushed yours and he laughed. A pure and beautiful sound you don't hear too often, you'd buy it if you could, alas it was too priceless.

☆Coriolanus who viewed you as his in his own way. You had become the center of his universe(on purpose) and he enjoyed it. Always having a gentle soft hand on your lower back, not so much guiding you but holding onto you. Coriolanus who held you tightly on the new matress you'd bough together as a form of shopping date, like you were his personal stuffed toy. You wouldn't admit you enjoyed it. But you did.

☆Coriolanus Snow who on good days relishes into the feeling of being known wholly and still accepted. Who enjoyed walking around without the weight of a bravado or mask. Coriolanus Snow who loved you without fear.

✹Coriolanus Snow who on bad days lived in constant fear that he wouldn't live up to the transaction and you'd leave him. He'd seen hiw fast you cut other people, how fast and with no warning you left him when he stepped out of line.

He comforts himself with the thought that you'd spent way too much money on him to just dump him out of the blue, as long as he behaved. That you could fix him, mend him, shape him however you liked and he'd let you. He'd let you shatter him if it meant you'd continue to (love) support him.

✹Coriolanus Snow who on bad days would study and work hard even harder than before. A part of him hated hiw easily he had slipped into your trap. How vulnerable to your whims hr had become, how dependent he was. He was scared you'd pull the rug and all would fall apart underneath him, his last chance at a future outside of poverty.

His whole demeanor would be off and you could tell immediately that it was one of his bad days even before he answered your daily calls on the phone you bought him. When he got into his fits of studying out of misery he became almost unreachable, he knew you were the one calling. I mean, no one else could call him.

He'd answer eventually and you'd invite hik to dinner in your house. Sometimes when he really had to study for a test you wouldn't force him to come, you still wanted him to actually have good grades, its among the things you like most about him. But now you know by the tiredness and lack of emotion in his short answers that he was simply not in a good place.

And he'd come at the designated hour, politely knock and make small talk with your parents. They weren't fully aware of your deal, they could see the indent of the money in your bank account but also it was money they had given to you to use however you liked so they didn't ask too much questions. If all of you started poking your nose in each other's business your family would fall apart.

Your parents liked Coriolanus, that meant they didn't mind you spending time with him or spending money on him. They also didn't mind it when you excuse the both of you from dinner in the grand hall and lead Coriolanus up to your room where a small feast was organized.

You'd walk ahead even if Coriolanus knew the path by heart, he spent a lot of time here. While his apartment had gotten a few renovations it was still showing all the signs of his finances demise, how he truly didn't belong in the world he was trying to be in. His envy and pride had kept him going blindly for uears to come, it's not like he had much choice. It was that or giving up and letting all the two people he cared about die with him.

In all his years he hadn't allowed himself to stop, to weaver, to be shaken for long from his future position, almost like it was promised to him. His circumstances didn't allow for anything else. Now he had too much time to sit with his own thoughts. Too much time to reminiscent about how much he had taken from Tigris'es youth, to notice how old grandma'am had become. How fragile his little world was.

Coriolanus'es heavy monotony steps echo behind you, you walk with your chin high and fight the urge to turn around to look at him. You know he is there. But you still want to see if he is with you, or lost in his own self made prison by your doing.

You reach your room and Coriolanus goes to open it by muscle memory. His gaze is still unfocused and far away and the thin layer of skin around his eyes seems worn out and raw. It makes something stir inside you, anger. He is wearing one of the cotton shirts you had given him, plain and simple with some blue pants that reached hus ankles. The necklace you'd given him for your first supposed "anniversary" sat prettily on his collarbone. It was a simple rose gold chain with a small pendant of your family's crest: the version was simplified but the branches of the walnut trees that made up a circular frame and the small image of lion stood proudly in its middle, teeth bared. The chain wasn't long, and it made it accidentally(completely on purpose) seem like a collar. The sight puts you a bit at ease.

You both enter your spacious room, it smells faintly of the perfume you wear. On the large bed lay multiple trays with lavish dishes all unique, with different protein or no protein, depending on what the both of you would prefer. Corio rarely would turn up his nose at something, for reasons that were never spoken but understood. You watched him suffer through a bean based dish once and decided not to do it again.

Usually by this point the sight and smell of your signature scent, the warmth of your room and the aroma of food would calm his mind and bring some light back into him, but today he seemed too far gone.

Even as you both sat on the bed, the matress dipping under your weight, he ate a few bites and most of the time simply keep his gaze occupied with something else. It made some sort of anger rise in you. You tell you're you are angry because he isn't cooperating, that you've spent so much on him and he doesn't enjoy it, that he is being selfish. The soft metal of your fork seems entirely too bendable in your tight fist. You tell yourself you hate it when he isn't acting like you want him too, it's not being you hate your own powerlessness, that you can't fix this by throwing money. You could lie, but you don't.

The whirling of emotions claw its way from your gut through your lungs and throat, where it begs to be released in harsh words and imbalanced actions. Your mind grows dull of reason and your tongue sharpens. But you are better than this. You have self control. You have the control.

"I have not poisnoned the food, no need to check it."

You bite out as coldly as you can, if you don't you might burn him with your own powerlessness. His gaze momentarily shifts upwards and to you, his eyes have a yellowing touch to them and the veins are prominant and red, eyes glassy hopefully from reading and writting for so long.

"I never thought you had."

"Is there another reason you arent eating then? Perhaps the food is not up to par?"

You can hear the barely hidden venom in your voice. He can hear it too. The air feels tense and almost weavers as you both look at each other. Corio as always reads you as well as you read him and quickly becomes defensive from his own powerlessness.

"The food is lovely."

He spats back at you with a forced angry smile. This was it. You were getting tired of him and his leaching off of you. The same way the charm of a Christmas puppy would wear off after a month or two so had his own twisted charisma. He would be thrown out in the cold and left to starve, quite literally like a dog. The betrayal made his chest flare up, it set something ablaze.

Both of you stand there the embodiment of pride as all can be heard is the faint sound of the ambient music from downstairs piano and the sound of both of your breathing. That and the blood rushing through your ears. Both of you stoically and pridefully guard their response and face, force of habit from the years of play pretend.

This was the hard thing about this comrades, deal, relationship of yours, you were the same. This puzzle pieces etched from the same wood that fit together in a way no one else could. But once theatching ugly sides were facing you couldn't even be close.

His brows scrunch firtger together and he seems to be loosing the inner fight with his head just as you are. Emotions got the best of him. The best of you.

So you pulled him by the chain and smashed your lips against his.

The unspoken argument was still hot on his lips but so were your own as then mended together. His lips were as soft as you had imagined on one occasion. At first he didn't respond, not expecting for you to allow him to stay. He thought you'd finally force him to leave.

His lack of response doesn't stop you, you double down and place your hands on either side of his jaw, digging your short manicured nails into the warm flesh under where his ear and jaw meet. You were going to keep him here with you, not his stupid head, not his hatred and fear, not inside the prison of his mind, with you.

It seemed to snap Coriolanus back to life. In a flash his eyes close and his lips move against yours, the kiss is slow but very raw. His teeth brush against yours and his lips redden and glisten as they dance with yours. It's not a fight for dominance like you'd expect, it feels like you are trying to consume each other until you are one. His hands dig into the cotton material of your house clothes. They lacked the usual designer brand and rich material you usually sported, it made him feel a bit better, it made you feel barer.

His nails dig crescents into the skin of your lower back, his warm hands had found their anchor underneath your shirt and on your body.

You were warm, so so warm. And he felt like he was dying of the cold, in his apartment, in his bed, in his body. He felt cold. He wanted to be warmed by you, that's all he wanted.

You take a step closer and now your clotyed chest is against his, your hands have found their way in his hair and his own are resting in a tight embrace on your back underneath the cloth. You pull off of the kiss breathless and a bit hazy minded, you'd never done that before and judging by the disheveled boy woth dilated eyes and lips redden by your chapstick he was feeling the effect of making out for the first time.

It proved more addicting than you had expected and after quickly putting the trays with almsot untouched food on your vanity you quickly crawl on the bed to continue. It was head-spinning and electric, it made your body shiver as you got lost in it. Maybe a more rational part of you would have done things differently, made you the seductress, made you the one in control, but your hormones were raging and Coriolanus was kissing you like he's trying to fry his brain up and fill the black hole in his chest. You couldn't pull away, it felt like all the barriers set up by society, yourself, your image and even the physical form were blurring and evaporating, especially as Coriolanus's lips trailed lower and kissed and nipped at your jaw and neck.

The movements were desperate, like he was trying to crawl in your skin. You weren't much better as your hands skimmed up and down his back, underneath the layers to feel his hot back, he felt like a furnace against you.

"Coriolan-"

"Corio, please call me Corio"

He muttered into your neck, his body weight was almost fully on you, only held up by his knees on either side of your hips and one hand that squished the pillow next to your head. It made your brain go quiet for a few seconds but you didn't want that. This was all going wrong. You are supposed to be in control.

So you grab him by the neck, you nails leave pink marks on the sides of the sweaty flesh and you make him look in your eyes and stop lavishing your neck.

"Who do you belong to, Corio?"

Your voice didn't carry the same steelness to it as ususal but it came out as a threats hiss and that was enough for you. At first he didn't react his wide pupils made his eyes seem almost black. Then he opens his mouth and wrapped his lips around words he couldn't stomach before.

"Im yours, Im yours, y/n. Let me be yours, please"

It's whiny and desperate, a bit tearfully if you listened closely. It soothes something deep inside of you but your expression doesn't let up, scrunching into an deadly grimace, the hand at his neck tightens until you can feel his thriving heartbeat against your palm.

"If you think there is some way for you to escape from me you are wrong. No one can help you, no man, no woman. You are mine, and you will like it"

You gritt out and you can feel a vein pop on your face as you stare unforgiving at him, as if it will drill it in his head and keep him happy. Because you wanted him happy.

His lips are half open and his eyes are doe wide, maybe it's the fact this sick proclamation soothes him, or maybe it's the fact he sees the weakness inside of you that makes him feel better. He doesn't know. He hasn't been thinking straight since he crawled on your bed. He leans down and a stray curl of his blond hair coiled and brushed against your forearm. His lips meet with your wrist and he places such a delicate kiss there you almost believe he cares about you. It halts your bravado and gives him enough time to lift his gaze you and look at you through his lashes.

"You are all that matteres to me. You are everything that i have. Let me be yours."

He says and drops his hand down so his forehead lays at the back of your hand. His words and the shock from there seeming sincerely makes your hold loosen. His lips are at your knuckles and he holds your smaller hand in both of his like he is praying at deity. For all he cares, you are his religion and sacred salvation. The closest his soul will get to accending is when he is pressed so tightly against you he confuses what is his and what is yours.

"i love you the only way i know how to. I'll make it be enough for you. Ill be enough for you."

You don't know what to say. No response cokes and you are scare of what will come.ojt even if it did. You have no words for hik to soothe his longing, you don't know how. Your armor stands shining as he bears himself for you.

You press your lips to the crown of his head and keep them there, you envelope his head in your hands and bring him back to you. He eagerly let's you move him as you like and when he rests his head against your now bare chest It makes something click in his brain. He takes off his won shirt and lays back down with you.

You can't say if he simply clinging to you or the otger way around. All you know is that you feel warm. You feel good. The cold ess is gone and you are here with him. With Corio, with your Corio who you love, you don't know how or where to even begin to understand this twisted version of something supposedly innocent. All you know is you belong with him.

He belongs to you. He isn't going anywhere and judging by how comfortable he is underneath your heavy duvet and in your arms, nestled on the warm skin of your chest, he doesn't plan on going anywhere either.

In the end you got what you want.

Coriolanus wanted you willingly, even if this wasn't the path you thought it would take.

Doesn't matter, you always won in the end. Right?

(Im gonna make them both suffer yall)

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littlemissmiller · 13 days ago

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Bird in a Cage

Part 5: The Deal

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: you return to coriolanus’s chambers after a lovely night and he shows you how much he’s addicted to you. later in the week, he makes a deal with you and you decide to take some precautions…

Warning: 21+ (implied drug use), smut, non-con, riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, slight cum play, spanking, use of nicknames (good girl, play thing), mirror sex, doggy, slight degradation, obsession, possessive behavior, toxic themes, stalking, kidnapping.

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: hello hello hello! part 5! so idk why my last fic didn’t do as well, but i still take suggestions so whatever y’all wanna read about let me know because maybe im falling off but damn y’all didn’t want a little coriolanus x you x sejanus :( ok well, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter and stay tuned the last chapter is gonna be different, like a choose your own ending (my ass couldn’t keep a surprise to save my life). oh and i added a chapter because I couldn’t fit everything into part 6. in the meantime the classic Summer High series is still in the works and I think imma actually do a pedro story next! yah! ok that’s all bye ❤︎︎

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༚༝༚

The guards nod and escort you to Coriolanus’s chambers. As you walk, you feel like you’re floating, coming down from your high and entering a new sensation. Your lust drives every thought in your mind and is bringing your body to heat. Once you arrive at his door, you knock twice and he invites you in.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You let out a drunken giggle and eye him. At this point you’ve completely transformed into feeling nothing but pure desire for him.

“That was a fun experience. The stars…they shimmered so bright. It was beautiful.”

He walks over to you, his overcoat now removed, along with his cufflinks. His shirt is slightly agape, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the top of his pecks. He smiles and walks towards you. You wrap your arms around his neck and he places his hands on your waist.

“Tell me more about the stars.”

“They were like beautiful gems. They flickered and danced so brightly.”

“As beautiful as you, my darling?”

“I-I’m not sure about that…”

“I am. I’m incredibly sure.”

“Well…why don’t you show me?” You ask.

He sighs and immediately captures your lips. He holds your face tightly, moving his hands under your jaw and on your neck. You can barely breathe, but you love feeling devoured. He’s entranced by you, your scent, your taste. Coriolanus wants to explore every part of you. Ravish you, make you shake, and cry his name. He loves how loud you get, how you claw on his back, and ache for more. His passions get the best of him and he swoops you up, cupping your ass and swiftly walking you to his bed. You are laid flat on your back. You gasp as he crawls on top of you. You smirk and he starts to undress you. He pulls down the straps of your dress, kissing your skin as you are revealed to him.

“You feel so soft. So perfect.”

He pulls your dress down your body, until you are in nothing but your panties and bra. This has truly become his favorite sight. You, in a matching pair of lacy underwear, on his bed, ready for him.

He sits up on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt all the way, tossing it to the ground. Your breathing becomes laborious and you focus on his next moves. You can’t help but gawk at him, his body, perfectly toned, yet not too bulky. He crawls back on top of you, this time going straight to your neck. He wants to leave marks, sucking and biting hard. You squeal out and moan, your fingers raking through his hair. You cling to him, reveling in the pleasure he’s giving you, while patiently waiting for his mouth to explore further down your body.

“You taste so sweet. I know you want more…” you nod and he gasps moving his mouth to your collarbone and the valley of your breast. “Can’t get enough of you, my darling. Let me see these beautiful breasts.”

His hands snake under your hips and up to the clasp. You arch your back to allow him access. He expertly unhooks your bra, slipping it down your arms and tossing it to the ground. Immediately, he grabs your chest, kneading and massaging you. You whine and arch your back again. He smiles against your flesh, nipping at you. Your whimpers are truly music to his ears, and he intends to coax more out of you.

“So sensitive. I love how you respond to my touch. Mmm I have an idea…”

He crawls off you and sits back against the headboard.

“Come here” he pats his lap “lay over me you beautiful thing.”

You nod biting your lip, and crawl to him.

“On your stomach, ass up baby. There ya go. Good girl.” He whispers “I want to focus on your pleasure fully tonight.”

He grabs your ass, giving it a few firm pats. He lets out a soft moan as his fingers slowly find your folds. You grab his bicep, arching into his touch. He starts soft, stroking your pussy, then his touch becomes more aggressive. A wave of euphoria fills your body, your core becoming more and more wet. The sounds of it fill the air, and you feel his cock harden on your stomach.

“Mmm you feel that baby, you feel how you turn me on. Your wet cunt, making me so hard.”

“Mhmm…I love how you touch me, sir…”

He finds your clit, rubbing it feverishly. You let out moan after moan, jerking and bucking against his hand. He continues to manipulate your core, his fingers working hard on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp and claw at his body. He loves how your nails dig into his thigh and arms. He loves how you don’t want to hold back. He removes his fingers for a moment, holds them to his mouth and spits on them. He places them back on your cunt, making you squeal again. Coriolanus is satisfied watching you like this, especially when you look so perfect laying ass up on his lap.

He moves his hand, slapping your ass a few times. He moans as his hand meets your cheeks, and you can feel his cock twitch against your stomach and you smile.

“You like that baby, like me treating you like my little play thing”

“Mhmm…oh” you moan as his fingers find your pussy again.

“Turn over.” He instructs “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum.”

You swing your body over, your ass now firmly against his hard on. You want it in you so bad, but also want more of what he’s offering you. He gives you a sinful smile, his icy blue eyes focused on you.

“Spread your legs a bit more.” He pats your thigh. You obey, stretching out your legs, readjusting your body on his lap. He lets out a sinister chuckle, before his hands swiftly move back to your throbbing core. He rubs you gently then applies more pressure. Your hips buck and he delicately slides a finger into you, then another. He curls them up and pumps his hands. The pleasure is overwhelming, you’ve never had a man make you feel this good.

“God, baby girl, you’re so tight and wet. Fuuuuck darling.”

His fingers continue to work you, your wetness gathering heavy on his fingers. He slides them up to your mouth.

“Taste yourself.” He commands

You nod, wrapping your mouth around his fingers. He lets out a guttural moan. He moves you off his lap, crawling around in front of you. Coriolanus pushes your hips down onto the bed, towering over you. His eyes meet your own and he dives in for a kiss. His lips seal on top of your own, moving furiously, desire overcoming his senses. He snakes his hands down to your thighs, spreading your legs so he can comfortably kneel in between them. He guides his cock to your entrance, stroking you for a moment, then slowly pushing in. You gasp at the sensation, tossing your head back, your eyes scrunching up.

“So perfect. I’ll never get tired of taking you.” Coriolanus utters.

His hips pick up speed, and before you know it, he’s pushing into you deeper and harder. He finds a good pace, hips slamming yours. You could stay like this all night, relish in the pleasure he’s giving you, feel him buried deep in your core. And Coriolanus wishes the same. You feel so warm and wet, Coriolanus is sure he’s never felt like this before with another woman. No one hasn’t felt as right for him as you.

You tilt your head to kiss him again, moaning into him as your whole body moves with his. You wrap your hands around his neck, his hand cradling your jaw. Your eyes meet, his now dark with lust. He quickly recaptures your lips, then moves to readjust you. Coriolanus holds you up on his lap, falling to sit, while you ride him. As you work your hips, he trails down, kissing your neck, collarbone, and valley of your breast. You start to change your pace, legs working to bounce on him. He cups your ass, watching you close in breathless anticipation.

“You’re so perfect like this, my darling. Oh you should see for yourself.”

That’s when the idea occurs to him. Coriolanus studies you, a sinister smile creeping up his lips. He glances over to the full length mirror in the corner of his chambers, then turns back to you with a small chuckle. He holds you against him as he moves off the bed, the whole time keeping himself buried inside you. With a gasp and a small yelp, you wrap your legs around him as he stands. He brings you both to the mirror, setting you down and only pulling out to turn you over.

“Stick your ass out, I’ll hold you up.”

You nod, obeying him. He slides back in, his arm holding your torso, his free hand clenching your jaw.

“Look at yourself baby. Fuck look at your beautiful body, your perfect tits, god you’re so sexy.”

You watch yourself as he ruts into you. His hips slapping against your ass. Coriolanus seems to notice how perfect that is too.

“And…” he slaps your cheek. “This ass bouncing against me”

He gives you a few more firm slaps, before ensuring that you’re watching yourself again.

“Look up baby.” He instructs, patting the side of your face tenderly. “Watch me fuck you. I want you to see how perfect you are. I want you to see why I’m becoming so god damn addicted to you.”

You nod, your eyes meeting him in the mirror. You go back and forth between watching him and then yourself. Being able to watch him defile you like this awakes a new feeling in you. Your body feels hotter, the sensation of his cock seeming to hit harder. You enjoy being able to see yourself in this drunken, fucked out state. You cry out in pleasure, your legs becoming shaky and unstable.

“Don’t give out just yet. Do we need to move back to bed?”

“It’s just hard to hold myself up like this.”

He nods, walking you back to the bed. Coriolanus bends you over, still keen on taking you from behind. The soft cushion of the mattress provides relief and you settle yourself to be more comfortable. He pats your ass, knowing that he will probably not last much longer. You feel it too, your own high slowly being teased out of you.

“I want you to finish with me, I want to feel you squeeze around me when I release inside of you. Think you can do that baby?” He whispers.

You nod vigorously, his pace keeping up until you finally clench around him, your body convulsing with euphoria. After a few thrusts, Coriolanus is spent himself, his cock pumping inside you, semen spewing into your core. When he pulls out, is leaking out of you. He coos at you, taking a finger and pushing it into your core.

Coriolanus leans down, his mouth whispering into your ear.

“That…” he starts, catching his breath. “Was so…fucking…perfect…” He kisses your shoulder blade. “Stay right here.”

He pulls away, heading into the bathroom. When he returns, he’s holding a few towels and a silver tray with a glass of water and pill on it.

“Here. Take this.” He sticks the tray out to you. You roll over, taking the pill and swallowing with the water. You turn back on your stomach, allowing yourself to sink into the bed. You feel as Coriolanus cleans you up, making sure his cum doesn’t drip onto the bed. He tosses the towel to the ground and climbs into bed. You crawl under the sheets with him, lying against his chest. He kisses the side of your head, stroking your hair.

“Mmm, how are you so perfect?” He asks

“I’m not trying to be.”

“But you are…so so perfect for me.”

The next day, you wake up feeling light. He keeps you busy once again, the Hunger Games drawing nearer which means he's also busy. You don’t see him again until dinner and the rest of the week has you like ships passing in the night. By the end of the week, you’ve probably modeled every dress and outfit that represents the districts and are worn out. Around midday, you received a message from him.

My darling, come meet me in my study before lunch.

-C.S.

You examine the note, studying a few times before handing it back to the maid with a smile of acknowledgement. You leave the shoot and head to his study, an entourage of guards waiting outside to escort you. Once you arrive, you’re in the room alone. Curious, you look around, peering out the window onto the garden. As you do, something catches your eye. Large pieces of paper sit on his desk, taking up a majority of the surface area. You look closer and realize they are blueprints. You at first suspect they are for the games, but upon further examination it’s the layout of his palace. You do a double take, studying it carefully. The first layout is directly outside in the gardens. There seems to be plans for an event, maybe a party to celebrate the start of the games. You can clearly see his ideas for a grand pavilion closest to the palace and instructions for seating arrangements. You’re not sure what to make of it, turning the page to reveal another set of blueprints. This one seems to be a layout of the ground floor. Two of the rooms have notes scribbled onto them saying: to be remodeled.

You’re puzzled by it all, curious as to why he’s making changes to the palace and arrangements for a party. Maybe that’s why he brought you here. To tell you what’s going on. Then you notice something peculiar. All the rooms are labeled, even the hallways and staircases, except one small rectangle. It sits at the end of a hall, almost hidden away, almost as if it was drawn by accident. But you know it’s not. You think for a moment, then realize what it must be.

His laboratory. The crypt-like room that he had shown you earlier that week. It was right there, just next to the kitchen. Your eyes widen, committing the map to memory as the sound of freedom calls to you once again. When you’re not around him and your mind is more clear, you find yourself at war with your emotions, and ultimately want to go back to your normal life. Settling in here, becoming comfortable and adjusted at the palace are all ways of coping, hoping he would uphold his promise to let you see your family again. Yet, those dreams seem to be fading away each day, your spell broken only when you have a true moment alone to yourself, which is rare since your time being here.

Then the door knob turns and you scurry back to the window. You turn your back, and just as you settle yourself, the door opens.

“Oh you made it here before me. What a wonderful surprise.” He beams as you turn around. As he approaches you, he smiles, taking his hand out for you to hold. You take it and he kisses your knuckles softly. You decide not to mention what you just saw, waiting for him to bring it up instead.

“How’s your day been, beautiful?”

“Fine, it’s been a busy week, I’m ready for a break if I’m honest.”

“Soon enough. Once the games are over things will be…” he starts, taking a step to you “different.”

You nod and he cups your face, placing a delicate kiss to your cheek.

“And you’ll get some time off, we both will”

You nod again, this time he kisses you full on the mouth.

“But I brought you here for a reason. Something we need to discuss.”

“What is it?” you inquire.

“Well, with the games coming up, a lot of people are wishing to meet with me, talk about the arena, talk about last minute additions to the spectacle of it all, and I find it easier to simply have a dinner party to meet with people. Which will be tomorrow night. I have a few dresses picked out for you to try on, but I need help with something and it comes with a reward if you can promise to behave.”

“A reward?” You repeat

He nods his head, hands falling to your shoulders.

“I’ve invited your family to come. I’ll be with you, but they will be here to see you.”

Your eyes widen, swelling with tears. You gasp at his words, hardly believing it.

“What-what am I to do to be able to see them?”

“Well for one you need to act right. Not letting that mouth runoff to tell everybody why your absence has been so prolonged. And secondly…” he starts, his eyes scanning your body. “I need you to act as a dutiful partner.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Since most of the elites of Panem are aware that I’ve taken a fondness to you, they’ll be watching you, more specifically watching me, and I want to make a good impression.”

You stare at him, still confused, waiting for him to explain more.

“I need you to help with some of the planning, they’ll want to see you’re involved with life here at the palace, so for the rest of the day and tomorrow you’ll be with kitchen staff and gardening staff, approving or denying any decisions made. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.” You finally utter.

“Good girl.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m excited to see what you arrange for tomorrow night. In the meantime, I have lunch ready for you. I can't join the game-makers need me, but I’ll see you at dinner?” He nods and you nod back. “Perfect!” He kisses your forehead again. He escorts you out of the room and the guards escort you to the dining room for lunch.

You can barely eat, the thought of his requests bouncing around in your mind. And he’s letting you see your family. It feels all too good to be true. You stare down at your meal, bread, some various cheeses, and an arugula salad with steak cut up on top. You take a few nibbles of bread, some cheese and take a few bites of the salad before your stomach closes up at the thought of seeing your mother and father again. Your brother, your sister, your grandmother, and grandfather.

You leave the table, letting the guards escort you to wherever Coriolanus wants you next. The rest of the day, he has you tasting various desserts and wines for tomorrow evening, as well as picking out what color flowers should be at the guest tables. It all seems mundane, but you figure this is what his actual partner would be doing. It felt strange to be in this limbo between a real girlfriend and someone who has been forced into that role. He has a way of towing that line, reminding you of your place in this arrangement. Finally after making a decision on the lemon bars and lilacs, you’re taken back to your chambers. When you walk in, several dresses hang on a rack, ready to be tried on. One is a baby blue, with a sweetheart neckline and ruffles. It’s beautiful, but when you try it on, it makes you feel like you're taking up too much space. The next dress is a pale yellow, with puffed out sleeves and Queen Anne neckline. It’s simple, but it washes you out. Then, it is the one that really catches your eye. A vintage mauve, with a beaded, motif corset. It was strapless, made of silk and had a slit that was more than halfway up the thigh. You try it on. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body in all the right places. You twirl in the mirror, and smile to yourself. After a few moments, you are summoned to dinner. You don’t talk much, but allow him to praise you on your taste in wine for tomorrow.

“Perfect choice for a summer evening. And the lilacs will look beautiful as a centerpiece for the tables. Did you pick out a dress?”

“I did.” You smile softly

“Good. I can’t wait to see it, I’m sure you look lovely in it.”

“Do you care to know which one I picked?”

“I’ll wait to be surprised.” He remarks, returning back to his praises of you.

After dinner, you and him ravish each other on his bed, this time he’s more sweet and gentle, yet still giving you an equal amount of pleasure as always. He falls asleep holding you, but you stay awake, your mind fixated upon the possibility of seeing your family tomorrow. Then you remember something else. The location of his laboratory. The map burns in your mind, begs for you to follow it and find the room. At this point, Coriolanus is fast asleep, and you scoot slowly from his arms. He doesn’t stir and your mind is set on finding the key to the door. You remember it well, shiny silver, as if it was brand new.

You sneak over to his dresser, searching for it, the top drawer has nothing but some handkerchiefs and essential oils. You look in the second drawer, a moleskin, quill and ink bottle, sit neatly next to each other. You grimace and shut it. You open the bottom drawer, and it’s filled with a hair comb and mirror.

You creep into his closet, looking through the drawers quietly, but quick and frantic at the same time. It’s nowhere to be found, and you can’t fathom where else it could be. You walk back into the bedroom, then look at the small desk in the corner. You stride over to it and wiggle the drawer trying to open it, but it’s locked. Your heart surges, something telling you, you found it. But now you need a key just to get to it. Or something like a key. You head back into the bathroom, looking for something to pick the lock. You spot a small metal nail file, swipe it and tip toe back to the desk. You rattle the lock with it for a bit and then, it clicks open.

Eager you pull the drawer out and there it is. The silver key. You snatch it quickly, and scurry to the bedroom door. You crack it open, and a guard is standing at attention. You think for a moment, contemplating what to do. Then you have a plan.

“Excuse me?” You whisper.

The guard turns to look at you. He’s surprised at first, then his face softens.

“I can’t sleep, I’m feeling a bit peckish. Could you escort me to the kitchen for a snack please?”

The guard nods his head, walking you to the kitchen. Once you arrive at the kitchen door he turns to open it but you stop him.

“I’m sorry to do this, but I’m desperately cold. Could you fetch me a blanket?”

“I can’t leave you alone.” He states plainly

“I promise I won’t go anywhere. I just don’t want to go into the fridge without something to cover up.”

He sighs and turns around to retrieve a blanket. That’s when you make your move. With the map in mind, you sneak around the corner and discover the iron clad door of Coriolanus’s laboratory. You take the key, place it in the lock and turn. It opens, and you do your best to sneak in without a sound. You know exactly what you’re looking for and head to the cabinet of vials. The deep red one sticks out like a sore thumb and you open the cabinet to take it. You slip in past your shirt, securing it in your bra. You close the cabinet, and hurry out of the laboratory, locking it behind you. You tiptoe back into place, and the guard returns only moments after you have reinstated your place. You try not to seem so out of breath, looking as innocent as possible. The guard opens the door to the kitchen, handing you a blanket and you slip in. You drape the blanket over your shoulders and scoot to the industrial fridge. You open it, the guard holding it for you and you grab a bite of cheese, some bread, and an apple.

You walk out, find a tray and plate and carry your snack back to Coriolanus’s chambers. Once back inside, set the tray on the floor, sneak over to the desk, putting the key back precisely as you found it. You take the nail file and try to close the lock back up, pulling on it to make sure it’s locked. A heavy sigh of relief washes over you, and you float back to the bed. Finally you feel well enough to eat, clutching your chest to feel for the vial. It’s still there and you need a place to hide it. You sit on the floor, snacking on your bread while you think. Coriolanus stirs in his sleep, readjusting his body. You look around the room and spot your day dress from today on the floor. You crawl over to it, searching for a place to hide the vial. You can’t find one when an idea strikes you. You look back at his desk, the nail file still perched on the tabletop. You grab it, and make a small hole on the inside of the breast. It acts as a makeshift pocket and you slide it in. You return the file back to his bathroom, then finish eating.

Once back in bed with Coriolanus, you take a long, deep breath. You look over at him, his back rising and falling slowly. Everything hits you at once and you feel shaky again. He could easily find out you stole from him, snuck around, and took his vial. He could keep you from your family forever, blackmail you, torture you, turn you into an avox. You think about them, wondering if any of the ones he has at the palace was a girl in your place, a potential partner who tried to defy him or run away. You swallow hard, the thought of it making you feel ill. Then, he scoots closer to you, humming as he feels the warmth of your skin. He stirs.

“Where did you go?” He asks quietly

Shit. Was he awake? Did he wake up? Did he know?

“Couldn’t sleep. Got a snack from the kitchen.”

He smirks, his smile lazy, dreamlike.

“I had a feeling. You didn’t eat much for dinner or lunch.”

“How do you know about lunch?”

“The maid told me.” he sighs. “I’m glad you helped yourself to some food. I like how you're becoming accustomed to the palace.” He murmurs. You fake a smile, and scoot towards him. In an instant you feel your worries melt, his hand touching your bicep so gently. You lean into him, and nod, feeling almost euphoric as you drift to sleep.

꧁🝮꧂

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