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evielmostdefinitely · 11 months ago

Note

Imagine how distraught snow would be if his wife had a really rough time giving birth to their child where she’s coming in and out of conscience and there’s blood and he’s terrified she won’t make it like his mother leading to him hating the baby for a little bc of how badly his wife was recovering sorry for the angst! Ignore this if uncomfortable <3

forever winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested, troubles with child birth leaves coriolanus very cold towards your son.

contains: angst. mentions of parental death, blood, complications during birth. darkish coriolanus. kinda fluffy-ish end?

Coriolanus knew the horrors of childbirth. He knew the dangers, the risks. He’d seen the blank stares of a new mother rocking her baby, eyes blank and distant like she’d been through war. He’d heard the solemn whispers in a dim room, quiet and hushed, darting eyes that looked everywhere but the casket- sometimes two. His own mother had been torn from his grasp at a young age because of it, and for a while, he was sure he’d never let his own wife experience it.

Then he met you.

You who lit his world up from the inside out, who he rose only each day to see- to love. You who cradled a baby at your engagement announcement, a friend’s newborn, held him so naturally and delicately that it ignited something inside Coriolanus. He wanted a dozen babies with you, he decided at that moment that he’d do anything to make it happen.

You’d blossomed so naturally, swelled up overnight. Round belly and a glowing demeanor- it was addictive to Coriolanus. How he’d brag, boast proudly to anyone who’d hear it- his wife pregnant, he couldn’t be happier.

All those fears, worries, were replaced with new ones. Horror stories about infants, toddlers. His own consuming thoughts about being a father. The idea of childbirth was nothing but a fading thought to him. That had been in the war, technology was better, he was in a better place. Your father had ensured his darling daughter would have the best of the best- you always did. The best doctors, the best birthing suite, the best nursery- the best.

But money couldn’t buy your own body betraying itself at birth. It didn’t stop the bleeding, the paling of your skin as you fluttered in and out of consciousness.

You’d grunted like an animal, tearing yourself into two for hours, cursing Coriolanus’ name, begging him to make it stop, crushing his hands with your legs up in the stirrups, pushing your baby out.

Coriolanus was in awe of you, though he’d never get the chance to tell you. How you’d willed yourself to hurt yourself, inflict that selfless pain to bring life into the world. It was positively poetic.

He’d been so overjoyed hearing your babies gargled cry, the nurses announcing its gender- his gender. His son. A boy. A beautiful boy, wailing and delicate and covered in matter that Coriolanus didn’t even care about when he held him close to his own chest.

“What is it, Coryo?” You muttered, eyes drooping, chest heaving with aftershocks of pain from the birth.

“A boy, my love.” Coryo’s eyes shone with tears, lips pressing together to conceal it. “It’s a boy. Our boy, my darling.”

“A boy…” Your speech was slurred, head lolling back onto the pillow.

Coriolanus noticed for the first time how still the room had become, his son’s wailing the only sound. The nurses and doctors, once chipper and gleeful, now bearing a sickly paleness to their face, eerily quiet.

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus snapped, eyes wide, frantic, bouncing around the room. “What’s happening?”

“We-We can’t find-” The doctor’s voice shook, ducked between your legs in a pile of crimson. Coriolanus’ stomach turned violently.

“She’s bleeding. We-We can’t find where the bleeding is.” The nurse whispered.

“What?” Coriolanus snapped. “Bleeding? H-How can she- Find it!” The baby wailed over the sound of Coriolanus’ demanding barks.

“President Snow, we-we’re trying our best-”

“-Try harder.” Coriolanus sneered, clutching the baby closer to his chest. “If anything happens to my wife, I will single handedly ensure your bloodline ends with you. Each of you will know what it feels like to lose your family too if you lose her.” He spat, sending the nurses and doctors into a fearful frenzy.

The newborn wailed, doctors shouted, and Coriolanus’ ears rang, his chest too tight, painfully tight. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive that loss. His eyes fell to the screeching baby beneath him, scrunched face and wailing gums. How was he to raise this baby without you?

Anger boiled through his chest at the sight of his son- his fault. A cowering nurse, frozen in shaking fear in the corner, watched him carefully as he stormed towards her. “Take this.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving the baby in her arms.

He hated the feeling, the helplessness that consumed him as he stood, wide eyed and shaking hands he clenched into fists.

Somewhere, somehow, the doctor found the bleeding, stopping it with a triumphant cry. “Get the blood, get the blood!” He shouted, head hooked over his shoulder. “Infuse it now!”

Coriolanus wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Memories of the two of your: the moment you met, the first date, his shaking hands asking for yours in marriage, the way you beamed under your veil at the altar, the same glow that you had when you told him you were pregnant. It could all be gone so easily. Had his father felt this way? So helpless?

Maybe that’s why he’d been so hardened and resentful, so he’d never feel attached- never allow himself to feel so helpless.

Coriolanus decided he couldn’t blame him, sitting in this chair, watching as you rested. The doctor said there’d be a lot of that in the coming hours. That you’d gone through trauma and you needed time. He wanted to rip you from the bed, shake you until you awoke and told him you were ok. He needed to hear it, maddenned himself with the need for it.

Instead, he sat.

Coryo sent the baby out to the nursery. He knew your parents, Tigris, everyone waiting would be thrilled to see the baby boy. Coryo just couldn’t muster the feigned excitement now. The site of his own son made his stomach turn, fear soaked repulsion settled deep in the pitt of his own core.

Somewhere in the night, you awoke. A rustling and a groan that had Coriolanus snapping out of his dazed sleep, head tucked to his shoulder, slumped in the chair beside your bed.

“Don’t move.” Coryo commanded, eyes a kind of bright, frantic wide that had you stilling.

Your throat burned, head dizzy with the medicine they’d pumped into your system. Coriolanus’ hands shook as he brought you the water, hand cupping your jaw gently to feed it to you. You blinked, bleary with confusion. “You’re alright, my love.” Coriolanus' heart swelled, suffocatingly in his own chest. You were alright.

“Coryo,” You croaked, throat tight, rasping from before, you were sure. You remembered the birth, most of it anyways, the blurry memory of your baby in Coryo’s arms before your memory failed. “The-The baby… Is he alright? W-Where’s my baby?”

“He’s with your parents, my love.” Coriolanus’ hand smoothes down your matted hair, sticky with dried sweat. “Nevermind him. How are you? Is anything wrong? Do you need anything? I-I’ll call for the nurse.”

You shook your head, looking around the room. The sheets were clean, your gown clean, but you felt an achy soreness splitting you in half. “What happened?”

Coriolanus felt the lump in his throat grow, strangling his words in his throat. “Y-You had some complications, darling.” He swallowed the burn of his own tears down in his throat. “You were bleeding but they stopped it.”

You blinked, unmoving, soaking in the details of your injury. Coriolanus watched you with a studying glare, eyes scanning for any tiny, minor infliction that something was wrong. “Is-Is the baby ok?” You whispered, eyes shining with fear when you met his gaze.

“The baby’s fine.” Coryo snapped, harsher than he meant to. It alarmed you, your eyes snapping to his carefully. He took a deep breath, holding your hand carefully into his own, thumb running over your knuckles.

“He’s fine.” Coryo said, softer this time. “I need to know how you are. What do you need from me, my love? What can I do to make it better?”

You squeezed his hand lightly, your strength weaker than normal. It made Coriolanus’ spine tingle with shooting chills of concern. “I want to see my baby.” You whispered, head leaning against Coryo’s shoulder.

“No,” Coriolanus shook his head furiously. “No, you-you need to rest, and-and not be bothered by the baby-”

“-Coryo,” Your eyes rounded, so pitifully pleading Coriolanus would have walked through fire for you if you asked him to. “Please? I just want to see our baby.”

And how could he say no? He couldn’t, so instead, Coriolanus called the nurse in. Your parents, proud grandparents, holding the baby, tutting over you. Everyone flitting about the birthing room, Tigris even gleaming with joy at the birth of her nephew. All except Coriolanus, who watched in the corner of the room, a stoic look on his face.

You looked positively radiant, glowing with joy as you held your son. As if that baby hadn’t nearly killed you, Coriolanus wanted to scream the reminder to you, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t dare upset you, risk upsetting you in front of your family.

“Coriolanus,” Tigris’ soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, brought him away from his own sinking, heavy feelings of disappointment. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Tigris.” Coryo’s voice was tight, firm and forced, like the look of awkward contentment he tried to paint across his features.

“You… You haven’t held your son.” Tigris hesitated, voice dropping softly so the others wouldn’t overhear.

“I don’t wish to hold him right now.” Coriolanus sneered.

“He is your son, Coriolanus.” Tigris hissed, her voice dropping to a low hush in the room, terrified you or the others might hear.

“And he almost killed her.” Coryo’s eyes flashed to Tigris’ in horrified rage. “Nearly fated her as my sister did my mother, and if you think for one second I am to be happy at that, then you are-”

“-Coryo,” Your voice croaked, still weak and tired. It made his heart lurch, attention on you in a second, already walking towards your bedside.

“Yes, my love? What do you need?” Coriolanus muttered. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, showing such affection especially in front of your parents, but he hoped they’d pardon his vulnerability in the moment, given the circumstances.

“Look at him,” Your eyes shone with love, pure adoration, as if you weren’t cradling the very thing that almost killed you. It made Coryo sick. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

Coriolanus looked down at the small newborn, wrapped in swaddles, eyes closed and lips twitching with the faintest whimper of a cry. He looked so much like you, so much like himself- the perfect blend of the two of you taking your lips but Coriolanus’ nose.

His heart swelled with pride before he could help it, lips curling in a half smile. He’d grown weak, Coriolanus decided, softened by you and your love. He should be disgusted by the baby, despise him and reject him like an animal in the wild would. But he couldn’t bring himself to it.

“A fine young boy.” Your father boasted, nodding proudly. “The two of you should be very proud.”

“Yes,” Coryo swallowed around the lump in his throat. You leaned into his touch, shifting the baby so he could better see him.

“Any idea on the name?” Your mother hummed, moving beside you.

“I still think Cyrene would be fitting.” You’re beaming, beautiful and proud when you meet Coriolanus’ gaze. “What do you think, Coryo?”

“Yes,” Coryo nodded. “I think that would be a fine name.”

“Cyrene Snow,” You cooed, pressing your nose to the baby’s, pressing a gentle kiss there. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you met Coriolanus’ gaze. “Do you want to hold him, darling?”

“Are you getting tired?” Coryo watched you carefully. “Do you feel alright?”

“Yes,” You nodded. “I don’t want to hog the baby. Want you to have a chance too, darling.”

“That’s alright.” Coryo shook his head politely, suddenly very aware of your parents and Tigris’ gaze on him. “You hold him, my love.”

You frowned lightly. You knew something was off with Coryo, the tightness in his tone, lips falling in a flat line. You waited until later, when Cyrene lay in his bassinet, your family all gone for the night, just you and Coryo in the birthing suite.

“Why will you not hold him?” You asked through the still darkness. Coriolanus' eyes snapped to yours fiercely, startled by your tone.

“Excuse me?”

“Our baby.” You groaned when you sat up, Coryo rushing to your side.

“You need to be careful-”

“-You won’t hold him, Coriolanus.” You gripped his arm, eyes shining in something new- something Coryo wasn’t certain of, but it made his stomach twist. “Why?”

Coriolanus swallowed, the lump in his throat suffocating him. “The last time I held him,” Coryo’s voice was soft, rasping in the quiet room, barely above a whisper. “You nearly died.”

The room was still, far too still for either of you to find comfort. A harsh, shocking truth for the both of you, sickening and cruel. Your near damned fated reality, Coriolanus’ worst fears, the peaceful baby resting in the bassinet besides the two of you.

Pressed into the side of your hospital bed, Coriolanus held you carefully, a stilled reminder that you were still there, that you hadn’t left him. The icy wall he’d built high for his son melted with every soft coo and whisper you gave him, a reminder that you were still with him and would be.

When Coryo finally held Cyrene again, when he’d stirred awake and you were asleep, he turned to the window overlooking Panem’s Capitol, eyes shining with tears- of regret, joy, pain? Even Coryo wasn’t sure, but he rocked his son to sleep carefully, promising him that one day, he’d have what Coryo had. That he wouldn’t leave him the way his father had, that he’d keep him safe, teach him how to keep you safe.

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francixoxoxo · 4 months ago

Text

⋆.° Swaddled in Silk ୨ৎ

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜., 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!), 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

Little note: reader doesn’t get the abortion not because of pro-life beliefs, but because of personal wishes, this is NOT an anti-abortion sentiment!! Very much pro choice over here!!!!

Mornings tended to be peaceful with Coriolanus.

Your eyes would flutter open, the pale skin of your husband’s bare neck and chest cast in golden morning sunshine the first thing you see. You’d shift, groaning softly at the morning aches and nosing the crook of his neck, grateful he’s a light sleeper when his strong arms wrap tighter around you.

Technically, Coryo had his own room in the Presidential mansion. But he’d admitted to you in soft words late into the night, long ago, that he couldn’t sleep without you.

So you’d wake up in his arms, him holding you close as if somebody would take you from him. You found it endearing, just how possessive Coriolanus was over you. It wasn’t just in the way he held you; it was in the way he made sure you looked and felt your best at every event, so that he hold a hand on your waist and boast his wife’s beauty. It was in the way he spoiled you in just about every aspect, dipping you in diamonds and rubies, keeping your appearance manicured with days at the spa, keeping your every need satisfied, physical or emotional. Doting on you the best he could while running the damn country, loving you like a good husband should.

Except that his love was a bit inconvenient at the moment, as you tried to move from his arms and his grip only tightened. You felt a recognizable bile rising up, a sick feeling taking over your gut. Coriolanus grumbled, his brows drawing and eyes impossibly more blue in the morning as they opened a crack. “Darling..? Where…”

You peeled his arms away from you, and this time Coryo let you go. His expression was twisted in confusion as you jumped to your feet, hand clasped over your mouth as you beelined for the bathroom connected to the bedroom. Oh. He stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making his way to the bathroom to soothe you. He picked up the pace as he heard you retching.

Coriolanus knelt beside you, gathering up your smooth tresses and holding the hair back from your face in a ponytail. His other hand rubbed your back with a strong palm. “There you go, there you go. Get it out.”

God, you wouldn’t be surprised if you threw up an intestine. It felt like eternity before you got everything out of your system. “Sorry.” You croaked, wincing and sitting back on your calves.

“Why are you sorry? You can’t control it.” Coryo cooed, the hand holding your hair moving to the side of your head and pressing a kiss to your crown. His forehead creased after a moment though, he leaned away to grab you a towel. He watched you wipe your mouth before speaking hesitantly. “My love?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, swallowing hard and grimacing at the sour taste on your tongue.

“Do you think you ate something bad?” Coryo murmured, his voice suddenly dropping to a whisper. You met his eyes. You knew what he was really asking.

You pressed your lips thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” It seemed unlikely, you weren’t one to get sick at a whim. And you’d eaten rather healthy yesterday.

You two had been.. trying. To say the least. Coriolanus was very eager for a family, as were you. Baby fever actually had a strong hold on you. But you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be. Coryo and you went to the best doctor he could get his hands on, and his meticulous nature led to keeping track of your schedule, the windows where you’d be most fertile. You never grew tired of intimacy with him, but every negative test was daunting. Every vitamin and supplement was growing tiring to keep tabs on.

For months this went on. You couldn’t help feeling that you were failing Coriolanus. He wanted a baby so terribly, and your body just wouldn’t seem to work with you. Whispers were beginning to spread around high society women, questioning why a marriage of four years had yet to produce babies. You were questioning it yourself.

“My love, it’s okay.” Coryo had cooed, folding you into his arms the first night you’d cried to him about the cruel gossip about your marriage and your “failings” as a wife. He shook his head passionately, showering you with kisses. “I love you. A baby will come in time.”

You’d sniffled, burying your face and hiding your eyes into his chest. “But why won’t it come now? We’ve been doing everything right, Coryo, at this point it has to be me.”

Coryo sighed, his arms squeezing you tighter. You were perfect in his eyes, whether or not your body was sustaining a baby didn’t matter to him. He loved you regardless, and he told you so. “Just trust me. You’ll get pregnant when time is right for us. I love you, we have plenty of time.” Coriolanus took your chin in his fingers, tilting up your chin to press his lips to your forehead tenderly.

It seemed that the time was finally right for you. A broad smile spread over Coriolanus’ lips, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. You laughed a bit breathlessly.

“I’ll call the doctor.” Coryo cooed, pressing his lips between your brows. He hummed against your forehead, murmuring after a moment, “I love you. You know that?”

“I know.” You breathed, finding his bare arm and squeezing it affectionately as he pulled away. “I love you.”

The moments the words “You’re pregnant, Mrs. Snow,” slipped from the doctors lips, Coriolanus was changing gears.

He was coaxing you into coming with him to buy baby clothes the very next day. The day after that, you discovered that one of the rooms neighboring your bedroom was being renovated into a nursery. Coryo was delighted when a package he sent his secretary for came in, he’d hurried to find you wherever you’d been and showed you a box full of brand new baby toys. Plush bears, rattles, another large box holding a rocking chair; you wondered how your baby would even get around to using it all.

“You’re spoiling it before it’s even born!” You teased one day as he happily presented a soft muslin baby blanket.

“Damn right.” Coryo had smiled broadly, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone, correcting you, “I’m spoiling her.”

“Girls?” You cocked a brow, slipping a hand into his gelled-locks and probably messing up his styling. He didn’t care. “I’m confident it’s a girl, my love. And I live to spoil my girls.”

His attention didn’t only apply to the baby. You were his top priority these days; he took more time away from his work to dote on your every whim. Coryo was holding your hair back every morning you fell ill. He constantly was taking you shopping, making sure that your maternity clothes weren’t frumpy or ugly, but made you feel beautiful. He had the cooking staff preparing every craving you had.

But sooner than later, pregnancy proved itself to be difficult.

No matter what Coryo did, no matter what doctors he called in or what home remedies he found, you just wouldn’t get healthy. You were wasting away before his eyes. Your ribs jutted out from your sides, your face becoming gaunt and hollow. You simply couldn’t stomach food.

Coriolanus had never been more terrified than when a simple common flu had bedridden you for days. Your immune system was so weakened by your pregnancy, and nothing seemed to help. You looked deathly pale, just the sight of you was enough to bring Coryo to tears. Though he never let you see his distress.

But dear God, he couldn’t lose you. You were scaring him, with that resigned glint in your eyes. As if you knew, and were comfortable with dying. Coriolanus was the furthest thing from comfortable.

At night, he’d run his hands along your ribs, his nose brushing yours as he watched your eyes. They’d be peacefully shut, your breathing calm from his soothing touch. Coriolanus’ hand would always end up on your belly, his thumb rubbing along the gentle curve of it under your night slip. You were featherlight nowadays, when you should’ve been full and glowing.

When your dizzy spells became too powerful to handle without laying down, Coryo called in the doctor again. He wanted a baby with you, he didn’t want this. If he knew that this would’ve been so taxing on your body, he never would’ve done this to you.

That’s how he comforted himself as the doctor left the room, leaving you to sit on the chaise at the foot of your bed and Coryo to pace about, his fingers on his lips and his eyes buggy. You’d just been warned.

This baby was life or death. If you gave birth, you might not survive. It was simply a genetic condition in your family. Nothing to be done. Except..

“We’re getting rid of it.” Coriolanus announced firmly, shaking his head. You lifted your face.

You gawked at your husband. “No!” You huffed, eyes darting around to avoid another bout of tears. Your hands were wrung in your lap, squeezing tight to the point of your knuckles paling. “Don’t even suggest it.”

“I’m not suggesting it, I’m telling you. My love, we are not keeping this baby.” Coriolanus stepped closer, standing in front of you. He outstretched his hand to tilt your chin with a finger, his eyes glimmering with something adamant.

You shook your head, grabbing Coryo’s wrist and squeezing. Your brows pinched up at him. “You aren’t serious. You can’t— you can’t force me. It’s my body.”

Your husbands expression melted like ice in a heatwave, his eyes softening. He snuck his hand around to hold yours in a tight grip. “I won’t force you. I..” Coriolanus sighed in exasperation, moving to sit beside you. His tone was earnest and as kind as he could muster. “But I can’t let you do this.”

“It’s our baby, Coryo.” You pleaded, the hand not holding his coming to rest on your belly defensively. How could he contradict himself so greatly, telling you it was your choice while making it sound like his word was final, as always?

“It will kill you.” Coriolanus hissed, suddenly to his wits end with you. His brow creased, his lips pulling over his teeth in a sneer. He shook his head adamantly. “My love, I won’t lose you for—for it.”

You couldn’t help the lump rising in your throat, making breathing suddenly quite a task. “For her.” You corrected him this time.

Coriolanus sighed, letting go of your hand and pushing himself to his feet. He had to loosen his tie, the red article suddenly suffocating. You helplessly watched him pace, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “It would be okay. I’ve already lived, I think she should get a chance.”

The absurdity of your words brought a humorless snort from Coryo’s nose. He shook his head but seemed so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t reply, so you went on. “And you’d have a piece of me, anyway! Coryo, you’d love her so much it’d outweigh whatever grief you’d have, you’d be so happy I went through with it, because you’d get a baby out of—“

Coriolanus was staring at you with wide and buggy eyes, as if you’d suggested he eat you alive. “How dare you say that?” Your husband snapped, stepping towards you with purpose. “How could you think I’d be able to tolerate, let alone love this baby if it killed you?” His nostrils flared in frustration and in his shining sapphire eyes, a wild kind of hurt.

At the sight of the tears welling in Coryo’s eyes, you couldn’t resist reaching for his hands with both of yours. He let you take them, he rubbed his thumbs over the backs of your hands— the ridges of your increasingly apparent bones under his fingers only adding to the wetness in his eyes. “Please.” Coriolanus murmured after a moment, his brows drawing together and creasing his forehead. “Please, my love. We can get a doctor who’ll abort it, no matter what trimester. Please.”

God, he made it sound so easy. Like it was just a procedure. It wasn’t, not to you. You desperately wanted this baby, you couldn’t just wake up to a morning without its life within you.

Perhaps he could see the indecision in your eyes. He squeezed your hands. “Please. I can’t lose you.”

You couldn’t look Coriolanus in the eyes as you shook your head. “I’m keeping it.”

You kept your gaze fixed on his dress shoes, the leather freshly polished and shiny. You didn’t look up to see the way he wiped his eyes with his knuckles, his nostrils flaring and throat bobbing. You only knew that his hands slipped from yours, his footsteps were departing from you, the door falling shut behind him.

Your due date was nearing. Coriolanus took more time to be with you, masterfully hiding the sadness behind his eyes as you mentioned anything baby-related. You thought he’d distance himself.

Completely the opposite. Though every conversation about the baby brought on a nasty argument, Coryo wasn’t too big a fool to know that you needed him right now. Regardless of his constant reminders that you two could simply adopt, you could go the surrogacy route, anything to keep you alive, you denied him. You were determined to give him a baby of his own from your body.

But no matter how many fights he’d resolve by folding you into his arms, cooing an apology and petting your hair, he knew he would never love the baby that’ll take you away from him.

Coriolanus couldn’t bear watching you waste away like this. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his wife to be glowing, to be happy and full with his baby— he didn’t want to choose between his child and you. He would choose you, if you let him.

Still. You tried to maintain normalcy.

Maybe it was nature, a maternal instinct implanted deep within you, but you were willing to die for this baby. You couldn’t describe it to Coriolanus if you tried. You felt a strange calm, in the weeks leading up to the baby’s birth. Knowing that one might die, being aware of one’s expiration date, well, it was eye-opening. You took to writing down your thoughts, writing down messages to your daughter. You were still quite certain she was a she, though you were keeping the sex a surprise. Oh, you had so much to tell her!

When you told Coryo about the journal, he’d smiled gently and nodded, humming that it was a darling idea. But he left the room a minute later, coming back with eyes rubbed pink.

You were aware of how much of a toll it was taking on Coryo. But you knew it was best. You knew he deserved a baby. You deserved the pride of giving that life to him, to the world.

One day, you’d been helping your maid with folding your clothes and the towels for your bathroom. You’d insisted you help, especially because you loved to chat with her.

You were laughing with her, listening to a story she was telling. You were listening, until you felt an indescribable pain in your lower half. You’d winced, clutching the towel you’d been folding, looking down at yourself and holding your belly with your other hand.

“Mrs. Snow?” Your maid’s voice was full of concern. “Is it—“

“I don’t know.” You gasped, the pain washing over you like a wave, and leaving just as fast as it had come. “Do you think..”

“I’ll call the doctor.” She rose to her feet hesitantly, eyes wide as if you were a time bomb in her hands. You could almost laugh at her expression.

You nodded. “Don’t rush, it might not be—“ you proved yourself wrong as an immense pain knocked the words from your mouth. You fold over, groaning, and sending your maid bolting for the phone.

You’d certainly underestimated childbirth.

It was absolutely the most painful experience of your life. If you hadn’t been afraid of death up until now, you definitely were now. It was a terrifying pain, a terrifying feeling knowing that while most women were strong enough to withstand such a natural pain, you might not be.

An ambulance came to bring you from the presidential mansion to the hospital. The entire ride, screams and tears filled the tiny vehicle. You’d begged for someone to call Coriolanus, the prospect of doing this without him was daunting and downright petrifying.

When you got to the hospital room, Coryo was there, dress-shirt disheveled and hair ungelled. He’d been working at the office today. You thanked every god out there for him, as he squeezed your hand and smoothed back your hair, doing his very best to hide his fear. Your screams wrung his heart, he made sure to wipe your tears and kiss your sweaty brow.

“You’re doing great, my love.” Coriolanus cooed, letting you squeeze his hand until he was numb. You’d whimpered, the pain subsiding and crashing over you again like an ocean wave.

You’d wailed to kingdom come. “I don’t want to die, Coryo!” You’d groaned. He was grateful you weren’t paying much attention to his face, your eyes on the ceiling, otherwise you would’ve seen the way your pleading broke him.

Coryo squeezed your hand, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “You won’t. You’ll be fine, darling, you’re doing everything right.” He’d promised, voice as assured as he could manage.

Another thing you underestimated was how stupid long the whole ordeal was.

Atleast another hour ticking by meant another hour you were alive. But it also meant another hour of searing pain, the feeling of your body betraying you and ripping itself open, tears wetting your cheeks and wails parting your lips.

Suddenly, it was like all that intense cramping and sharp pains were alleviated in a moment. As if some divine being had graciously lifted you off a bed of nails. Woozily, you lifted your head to see the baby in the nurse’s hands, another nurse cutting the ambilical cord. God, did it look rough, but it was yours. It was beautiful. You immediately reached for your baby, eyes bleary and voice hoarse, “I want to hold it.”

As if anybody would deny the First Lady. Oh, you could bawl as they lowered the baby onto your chest, who was actually bawling and crying. You laughed a bit breathlessly, eyes lifting to Coriolanus. His eyes were wide, bluer than you’d ever seen them, perhaps from the shine to them. But he’d never let his tears escape his eyes, blinking them away to lay a hand on his baby’s head, smiling stupidly.

“I made this.” You breathed, staring down at the little thing. The baby, that you glanced down to find was a girl. Your daughter.

Coriolanus nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. You could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re so strong, my love. So strong.”

“And I’m alive.” You laughed, so focused on your daughter than you didn’t notice Coryo’s sidelong glance to the sheer amount of blood between your legs. He caught the eye of a nurse, who’d given him a curt nod.

Coriolanus let out the breath he’d been holding for the past two months. “I’m infinitely grateful.” He spoke softly, reverently. He was afraid that if he said any more, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Isn’t she pretty?” You sighed, looking up to meet your husband’s eye. Coryo just shook his head, smiling to the point that his eyes crinkled— speaking of which, they were welling up again.

“Beautiful.” He cooed. “What’re we calling her?” Coriolanus said that last bit in a breathy chuckle, squeezing your arm gently as a nurse moved to take the baby to be cleaned. You two had spoken about names before, but never decided on something definite.

You stared after your daughter, your tears drying on your cheeks and the pain twixt your legs fading into the background. Your heart was beating, your chest rising and falling. You were alive. Oh, you went from resigning to never feel the swell of your lungs with air to filling them as much as possible.

“Ruby, I think.” You breathed. A name that Coryo had suggested, long ago, perhaps in the first months of your pregnancy. A broad smile tiptoed across his lips as he smoothed down your hair.

Coryo nosed your cheekbone, not minding the sweat lingering on your skin from the whole ordeal, mumbling against you, “A gem.”

“A gem.” You agreed, turning your cheek to press your lips to his. Oh, how you loved him. Your husband. Your lover. The father of your baby. You know he’ll be the best father— doting, loving, protective..

If the way he clutched onto your arm as you kissed, his eyes and grip betraying his anxiety was any indication of how much he cared for you, how terrified he was to lose you? Then you’d married the right man.

If the way he dutifully fluffed your pillows and got his hands on a sleeping mask was a gesture of his love? You were set for life.

If the way his sapphire eyes shone with admiration, with affection and devotion for your little daughter, swaddled in silk in her crib was a testament to the father Coriolanus would be?

Then Ruby was a lucky little girl. You were certainly a lucky woman.

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perlelune · 1 year ago

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | Masterlist

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

𝔦.

𝔦𝔦.

𝔦𝔦𝔦.

𝔦𝔳.

𝔳.

𝔳𝔦.

𝔳𝔦𝔦.

𝔳𝔦𝔦𝔦.

𝔦𝔵.

𝔵.

𝔵𝔦.

𝔵𝔦𝔦.

Drabble #1

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosbas fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #dark!fic #series masterlist #tbosas #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #divider credit: @saradika

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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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A Caged Bird (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, blackmail, stalking, abuse of power, hints of dacryphilia, slightly spoiler-esque

summary: Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them...and where you know where they are at all times.

You thought that it was over when you won.

That’s what winning The Hunger Games meant, right? The psychological torture, the grueling conditions, and the fear that wouldn’t leave you until you finally left the arena was supposed to be over. You made it out through blood, sweat, and tears, and so your reward was to go home and reunite with your family and try your best to put the memories behind you.

Try your best to put him behind you.

So, why were you still being tormented?

When you first locked eyes with Coriolanus Snow, your first thought was how strikingly blue his were. Almost as if they weren’t real and had been specially manufactured in The Capitol for him, somehow. His hair, too, was just so much blonder than anything you’d seen in District 12, and again, you noted how so much about him seemed…artificial.

…but then he spoke…and the effect his voice had on you was very real.

“You don’t seem like you’re supposed to be here,” you’d said to him after stepping off of that train.

His response was expected, a charming chuckle leaving his pink lips, blond curls the perfect addition to his features.

“I’m not,” he slowly admitted.

The intensity behind his gaze whenever he so much as glanced at you was enough to make any girl’s heart race, and despite what you wished, you weren’t immune. He was beautiful—gorgeous as some of the other tributes and mentors liked to call him—and despite the initial intimidation, there was something about him that made you want to let your guard down.

…but he was your mentor…and a capitol citizen…and you were nothing more than his ticket to notoriety.

“Don’t you know who his dad was?” another tribute, one from one of the better districts, had said to you in a tone like you were stupid.

That was all the confirmation you needed, really.

…but he’d hopped onto the truck with you and gotten into that cage with you and brought you and your district mate food. He gave you poison to use against the other tributes. He wanted you to appeal to the audience so he’d have the funds to send you supplies. It was hard to decipher what was purely for show and what was just because he wanted you—and him by extension—to win. Perhaps, they were one in the same though, and it was impossible to have one without the other. Maybe it didn’t matter his reasons behind his desire to have his tribute win.

Maybe all that mattered was that you’d win.

…but that was when you thought winning meant you’d be free.

Coriolanus Snow was your best chance at winning, and so when the rebels rigged the arena, you didn’t hesitate to stay behind and save him. It wasn’t even a question in your mind because mentor or not, he was hurt, and you had to believe that that one fluke was not your only fighting chance. You couldn’t allow yourself to believe that in saving him, you’d allowed freedom to pass you by.

“You saved me,” he told you, a gentle brush of his handkerchief under your eye to catch your tears. “You saved me, and I am going to get you out of here.”

You had no idea then that he meant out of the games…and to him.

It was that flickering moment of doubt where you wondered if you could actually win, and you recalled what you’d said to him earlier about believing you could, how much you needed him to actually believe it. Now, you were the one doubting, and he could see it, blue gaze flicking over your face and soaking in the fear and uncertainty, because if you couldn’t win…

You’d die.

A lingering gaze and a tense atmosphere, and you felt yourself pulling back, realization hitting you as to just what you were about to let happen. It was hard to decipher who overstepped first, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get wrapped up in something that was only ever meant to be strictly professional. Coriolanus was your mentor, and you were his tribute.

That was all.

You didn’t know then the full lengths he went to just to ensure your victory. How could you? You were too busy trying to survive, trying to fight off rabid tributes and teenagers driven mad with the sole desire to just live. It was all so unfair and angering, and you were sure that with less focus, you might’ve gone insane too. You didn’t have the luxury to worry about your eerily handsome mentor and whatever ulterior motives he might’ve had to see you beat this thing.

So, when you did win, all you could feel was relief. All you could focus on was your family and their faces when you’d ultimately reunite with them. All you could even entertain were thoughts of pushing this very real nightmare to the back of your mind for as long as you possibly could. Initially, you didn’t even notice that you weren’t immediately reunited with your mentor when they crowned you as the winner and got you out of there.

At least, not until you came face to face with him in your own district.

“I thought they’d killed you. I didn’t know if my actions had come back on you too,” Coriolanus told you in a secluded corner, the loud music drowning out his words and the cover of darkness hiding your faces.

Those beautiful pale curls were gone, and any thought that so much of his beauty relied on his golden locks was gone too with one drink of him. He was still the same handsome boy that mentored you, the same one who’d garnered the nickname ‘gorgeous’ among the other tributes. Up on that stage, you’d been thrown to meet a familiar gaze, your harmonious tune pausing for half a second as he met your shocked stare with an expression of his own you couldn’t place, pink lips curved upwards ever so slightly.

Any question of how and why he was here had disappeared as you registered his words. Confusion filled you as you stared at him, a slight frown between your brows as you wracked your brain for how that could possibly make sense.

“Why would they kill me…?” you slowly asked him, and you and the shadows were all that was privy to his confession.

The water bottles, the handkerchief, and the snakes—even the poison. Coriolanus had cheated to secure your victory, broken rules that plucked him out of The Capitol and dropped him here in your very own district as a Peacekeeper. The shock you felt that your victory was far from a fair one warred with the confusion you felt as to why he’d risk everything just for you to win.

If you’d lost fair and square—as you probably should have—there was no doubt in your mind that he’d be safely tucked away in the lavishness of The Capitol instead of lingering about in some rundown excuse for a bar in lowly District 12. If he knew what awaited him should his treachery be discovered…then why chance it? Nothing about your brief tutelage with him could justify what he’d risked and ultimately lost.

You wanted to ask him why, but something in you was afraid of the answer.

That almost kiss—a kiss you hadn’t thought about in months—suddenly came to mind, and even though you didn’t ask him why, something in you knew why even if you wanted to deny it. It was there in the dim lighting and rowdy atmosphere of some rundown building that every minor interaction didn’t start to feel so minor.

Every brush of his hand against yours as he reached for you, the unsettling way he seemed to watch you in that short time that you’d simply written off as concern for his tribute, and the ruthless desire to see you out on the other side of the arena. The kiss that never was only seemed like a lapse in judgement to you then, but in this moment, you had suspicions that it was very much intentional.

You swallowed, realizing that in that brief internal introspection, Coriolanus hadn’t taken his eyes off of you once.

“Did they send you to District 12?” you finally asked him.

You didn’t know what gave you away. Perhaps your tone, maybe your face, or maybe your eyes weren’t as secretive as you’d like to believe. Either way, something about your visage and demeanor gave the blond man pause, head tilting just a tad as those baby blues glinted with something you didn’t recognize but you know you didn’t like. He studied your face before coming up with the answer he probably thought you wanted.

“Of course.”

You didn’t know if you believed him.

…and Coriolanus could tell.

You’d played enough cat and mouse games in the arena—you never thought you’d have to play them in your own home too.

Starving off the affections of some boy in your district wasn’t hard or uncharted territory. Even spurning the forbidden advances of a Peacekeeper or two wasn’t unheard of, but Coriolanus was different. He wasn’t some average Joe turned cop. He was born and raised in The Capitol with a powerful father, and even though the man had been taken before his time, your former mentor still had been brought up with the kind of influence and reach and mindset that surpassed the average Peacekeeper.

They were followers—controlled by The Capitol and tasked with maintaining order. Most were no more than dumb brutes, mindlessly following orders without question, simple enough to be bribed and swayed. If Coriolanus’ actions had shown you anything, it was that he was not a follower. He did what he wanted and played by his own rules, and it was how you found yourself hunted by a gaze you thought you’d left behind in the arena.

Since the discovery of your former mentor’s presence in your district, you never felt alone.

Every walk to trade for food felt shadowed, every footstep home was accompanied with an echo, and a sweep of your eye over the crowd as you played an instrument or sang a tune was rewarded with a familiar blue one that made your heart freeze. You were forced to ignore it no longer when a single rose was left for you on the doorstep, your ma’s gaze questioning as she held it out to you.

You didn’t know where or how he got it, but you only cared about giving it back.

“I can’t accept this,” you told him, gaze steady but fingers trembling as you held it out to him.

It was raining, and the cover over your heads sheltered you from the downpour, but it did little to drown out the sound of it. Coriolanus simply stared at the flower for what felt like too long, making no moves to take it from you, and you swallowed. His blue gaze zeroed in on the action before it lifted to your face.

“…and why not?”

“Because I think it means something different to you than it does to me.”

Your response was swift, and you watched him sigh, eventually reaching out to finger the flower like he did that day before he’d proceeded to put it behind your ear. He finally took it, and just like that day before the games, it found its way behind your ear once again. The only change this time was the shudder that traveled down your spine, and the apprehension you felt when his gaze met yours.

For the longest time, the only sound was that of the rain, a few stray drops making it’s way onto your face and clothes due to the wind. If the man before you still had the locks you’d met him with, they would’ve been rustling with the breeze, right now. Both of you were very still, or maybe it was just you—nervous and fearful of how he’d respond. He briefly looked past you, eyes glinting briefly before they hardened once again, his pink lips pressed together as he regarded you.

“…and if it does?”

He continued when you frowned.

“Mean something different to me than it does to you,” he elaborated, and you blinked.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts.

“I know…that I’m only standing here, now, because of you,” you slowly started, watching him push his shoulders back. “I won because of you, I know that, but-.”

“Exactly,” he cut you off, making your lips part. “You won because of me…and everything I sacrificed was to make sure you won.”

“…but I didn’t ask you to do that!”

You felt…cornered, somehow, because on the one hand, yes. You did owe so much to the man before you, but at the same time, what did you owe specifically? Your attention? Your affection? Whatever he deemed an appropriate compensation? When you saved his life in the arena that day, and he vowed to save yours in return, you didn’t understand the full ramifications of the deal you were agreeing to.

“I saved your life, and you saved mine, and I’m sorry for the things you felt the need to risk, but that’s where it ends.”

The cold from the rain didn’t faze you nearly as much as the heat from his gaze boring into your back.

You wanted to believe that your lack of confrontation was what led you to the predicament you found yourself in. After all, things between you two had held too many ‘what ifs’ and lingering feelings and questions. You liked to hope that telling the man in no uncertain terms that your relationship should never and would never progress beyond anything professional would fix things.

You never would’ve guessed that your bout of confidence would only prove to make things worse.

“My ma doesn’t even know any rebels, and you know that.”

You’d whispered the words so quietly, throat too choked up to speak any louder as you tearfully stared Coriolanus down, your words only intended for the two of you. Your back was pressed to the doorway as he stood before you, a foot or two of space between you as other Peacekeepers did their duty to search your house as thoroughly as possible. The reason you’d been given was suspicion of treason—to the shock of your ma—but both you and the handsome man before you knew the truth.

“One can never be too sure. It’s always those you least expect.”

His cool response only made you look away, a few tears escaping.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You won, you were free, so why did it still feel like you were in the game…except a much more dangerous one this time? You could feel his eyes on you as you watched man after man rifle through you and your ma’s things, your younger sister not home to witness this. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him take a step towards you—just one, but one was enough to make you flinch.

You still didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him though.

“Unbearable,” he quietly said. “…not able to be endured…or tolerated.”

You swallowed.

“Not to be confused with hard—requiring a great deal of endurance or effort.”

Another step towards you.

“To find something unbearable means that you quite literally cannot stomach it any longer. It forces a change to come, forces something to…give,” he whispered.

Your gaze was still focused ahead, but his words made you blink, made your heart sink, and you swore that he knew that.

“I can make things incredibly unbearable for you…and your family.”

You straightened at that, finally looking at him with a venomous gaze and a heaving chest. Coriolanus reached up to pick at your shirt, removing a piece of grass from it, and you watched him inspect it before turning his blue eyes back onto you. They lingered on your own eyes before lowering to your lips, his own twitching so subtly you might’ve missed it if you were anyone else.

“Or I can make sure you’ll be taken care of, looked after as if you were my own…” his gaze met yours again. “It’s entirely your choice.”

You two stared at one another for an infuriating amount of time before he let out a sharp whistle, telling the other men that nothing seemed to be here and to move on. His wording was not lost on you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Coriolanus was the last to walk out, and despite the feel of his heavy gaze, you didn’t look his way the entire time.

Your ma commented on the strangeness of the whole ordeal, but nothing about it was strange to you. It was all very calculating and sinister actually, and while you grew up hearing countless talk of running away and living off the grid, you were never more tempted than in this moment…but you were not alone. Your ma was sickly, and your sister was too young.

…and if you left, you could only guess what you’d be leaving your family susceptible to.

Your future seemed inevitable no matter how much you tried to find a way out of the path set for you.

The first night you slept with Coriolanus Snow, it was storming just like that day you’d attempted to give him back his flower. You’d cried for a good three hours before, feeling helpless in the aftermath of another so-called inspection from Peacekeepers—this one much more destructive. The only light that night came from the brief flashes of lightning, and the sound of the rain drowned out the reluctant gasps to leave your lips.

Hands much softer than you ever expected trailed down your frame, curving over your hips and dipping underneath your thighs. The blond man’s lips rarely left your skin, kissing whatever part of you that came to mind, nose gently grazing you as he did and pulling shudders from your frame. It was a foreign feeling to be so heated and afraid at the same time.

Under the cover of darkness, his fingers intertwined with your own and his hips were flush with yours. The feel of him inside of you was much more jarring than you thought it would be, choked deep breaths leaving your parted lips as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts were slow, the complete opposite of what you expected, and you didn’t know if you liked that better or worse.

Every kiss felt wrong, like you were betraying yourself, but in the same manner, they also reminded you of that first day you met. You thought about when you stepped off of that train, and that smooth voice escaped those pink lips, and your stomach flipped no matter how much you pretended it didn’t. The person you were that day wanted to throw your head back and welcome the little nips he left along your skin.

The person you were, now, wanted to crawl inside of your skin.

This man had stalked you to the highest degree, following you all the way from The Capitol just to collect on the young woman whose survival he ensured. The things he’d risked and ultimately lost, he placed the weight of on your shoulders as if you were responsible to compensate for that somehow. As if it was your duty to make his sacrifices worth it.

When he pulled you into his lap, resting on him with arms circled around your waist, it was your turn to press your face into the area where his neck and shoulder met. His fingers dancing along your skin made you shudder, and that just made the tears collect more because you didn’t want to enjoy this, but your body and your brain didn’t seem to be in alignment.

When you were forced to come around him, you saw stars, and you were positive your nails left marks on his back.

You didn’t really think that no more trouble from Peacekeepers was worth the figurative collar around your neck. The abundance of food and supplies might have been, if only to just see the smiles on your ma and sister’s faces, but even then, when you found your back pressed to Coriolanus’ chest as he drove his cock up into you, you wondered if it was actually worth it.

Your ma would say no, that you knew for sure, but you supposed it wasn’t her call to make.

After all, the alternative was psychological torment and worst-case scenarios you didn’t even want to entertain.

“Would you have had her arrested?” you quietly wondered one night.

The sheet was clutched to your chest, and you were facing the wall, still unable to look him in the eye directly afterwards. You’d never been able to, feeling used and low and indefensible. You tried not to dwell on the feel of his fingertips tracing patterns into your shoulder, his cool breath hitting your skin as he exhaled.

“I mean…would you have…framed her somehow? Found some justification for it?”

You didn’t know why you were asking, certain you wouldn’t like the answer, and as you predicted, you felt your throat tighten the longer the silence stretched. Against your will—like many things you’d been doing as of late—a few tears escaped, and even before he answered, you knew what you were going to hear.

“Yes,” he confessed, just as quietly.

You squeezed your eyes shut, subtly wiping your face.

“I sacrificed so much for you to win, and not just because your win was my win…but because I wanted to see you win,” he murmured, placing a kiss to your back. “…because I wanted you.”

You knew that, but having it confirmed so plainly was disturbing.

“…and when I eventually make my way back to The Capitol, as we both know I will, I’ll still want you.”

Your stomach sank at that, and for the first time, you turned to look at him while still trembling in the aftermath of what had quickly become a nightly occurrence. His gaze was still focused on where your back had been, and when his eyes flitted up to connect with yours, you didn’t have the words to convey how you felt about what he was insinuating.

“In The Capitol, you’ll have access to things you could never even imagine…and you could send those same things back to your family,” he told you, reaching up to touch your face.

When you moved to sit up, he stopped you, a firm grip on your arm. Coryo—as he liked for you to call him—fixed you with a look that you knew all too well. It was the look he gave you when you tried to come up with any excuse as to why you couldn’t meet with him. It was the look you received when you briefly forgot the power dynamics here, turning away from him and attempting to push him away.

It was a look that told you not to fight the inevitable.

“I want you there with me.”

His tone left no room for argument, and there was so much conviction in his voice that the thought of arguing seemed legitimately draining. You simply stared at him, eyes glassy, and he stared back, waiting for verbal confirmation of what you both knew was going to happen, anyway. You had no choice in the matter, you never did, and for a brief horrifying moment, you almost wished you were a lone orphan who didn’t have to look out for anybody but yourself.

That thought did make tears spill over.

It was a horrible thing to think, but your loved ones were being used against you, and you knew that your ma—and your sister if she were old enough to comprehend these things—would never want this for you. Coryo sat up with you, a hand resting on your cheek as he gazed at you, a thumb brushing the tears away. It wasn’t meant to be comforting.

Nothing he did was ever meant to be comforting.

“I want you there with me,” he repeated.

You wondered what someone like you would possibly do in The Capitol.

“I don’t belong there,” you whispered, a poor attempt to get him to change his mind.

His response was swift and clipped.

“You belong with me.”

When he pressed his lips to yours, it was expected that you would kiss him back. His thumb brushed along your skin as you did, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat that quickly escalated into a groan. His free arm snaked around you, and your last attempt at resisting proved futile, so you let him lay you down.

Sex with Coriolanus was a maddening experience.

You didn’t want it, and your brain didn’t want it, but it was as if your body was its own separate entity running on hormones and animal instinct.

When he rested his full weight on top of you, you shuddered for a multitude of reasons—one of which you didn’t want to acknowledge. When he slid his hand between your breasts and down to your stomach, your back arched, chest pressing up and into his. When he pushed into you all torturously slow as he always did, you involuntarily held your breath, shaking at the feel of his hips connecting with yours, the length of him fully sheathed in your warmth.

You were terrified of him, so that was why you opened up for him like those budding roses he used to carry around, but in doing so, you made yourself vulnerable beneath him. You made yourself more susceptible to his kisses and his touch and that maddening voice that knew just how to get its way. He wasn’t a very talkative man when he was inside of you, much more content with letting his actions speak for themselves, but tonight was different.

“Look at me,” he whispered, curving his hips into yours. “Look right at me.”

You did, and while you didn’t know the specifics of the psychology behind this, you knew that looking into the eyes of your tormentor while in the act couldn’t be good.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he breathlessly told you, nose brushing against yours with every thrust.

You could hear that it was starting to rain again, and you pressed your hands into the small of his back, trying to ground yourself in some way—trying to have control over something, anything. Tears kissed your eyes, and you swore—you swore—that something in those blues of his twinkled. It sparked something in his gaze, and in his psyche, his thrusts becoming more powerful and making you gasp, nails pressing into his skin.

He only looked especially satisfied when the tears spilled over.

When he came inside of you, and you around him, you swore you saw stars.

You even thought you saw snow.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas imagine #tbosas fanfiction #tbosbas imagine #tbosbas fanfiction #dark fic

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risingoftime · 1 year ago

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coriolanus snow x fem!reader | smut below mdni

“Coryo, stop teasing,” you whined.

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me that this pussy is mine.”

“It’s all yours.”

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

#⟢DRABBLE #coriolanus snow #tbosas #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x black fem reader #coriolanus snow x black reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #x black reader #the hunger games #tbosas fic #x black!reader #president snow #young coriolanus snow #smut #tbosas smut

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dixonsbrat · 1 year ago

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𖥔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔

summary ; coriolanus needs to learn how to relax.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; smut. 18+ content. minors do not interact! handjob (male receiving). swearing. spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

coriolanus’ determination to achieve the plinth prize was palpable. the coveted prize, awarded annually to the top students at the academy, granting them money and essentially a free ride through the university, was all he had been focusing on.

countless books lay strewn across his desk, balls of crumpled up paper scattered around the room, as he stood before it. leaning against the old wooden table as his arms firmly held him steady. it was a clear indication that coriolanus had been pushing himself, striving to make every word and every thought count.

while it was something to admire, that didn’t stop the worry that had been seeping in. it wouldn’t have been obvious to most, but to you, someone who spent a lot of time with him, you could see the dark circles that had begun to encapsulate his eyes, the way his hair was slightly disarrayed, or the fact that he hadn’t even completely changed out of his academy uniform. only his bright red pants and blue shirt still firmly clad on his body.

he doesn’t hear you come in, doesn’t hear the thud from you closing the door, or you dropping your bag on the chair in the corner of the room. too enthralled by his textbooks and whatever scribbled nonsense is written in them, that it’s not until you wrap your arms around him from the back that he finally takes notice of your presence.

a smile spreads across his face as he places a hand atop of yours, “what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised but pleased to see you.

you pull him closer, embracing the feeling of holding him in your arms after barely getting to see him that day. the smell of roses filling your senses as you drink him in, “tigris let me in, said you’ve been cooped up in here all afternoon. plus, i… missed you.”

“i really missed you too, my love, but i-”

“-have so much to do. i know,” you cut him off, finishing his sentence. the same sentence you had been getting for weeks now. “which is exactly why you are going to put away the books and spend some time with your girlfriend.”

you can physically see the gears beginning to turn in his head, trying to think of a way to let you down gently. you didn’t take it to heart, you knew how important it was for him to win the plinth prize. you were the only one outside of his family that did.

“you already know you’re going to get that prize, coryo,” you sigh, “nobody even comes close in comparison to how hard you’ve been working for it, but you’ve gotta stop spreading yourself so thin.”

“i know, but tigris and grandma’am-”

“-would agree with me, that you need a night off,” you press a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, and pull him in even tighter. his head lulls back to lean against yours, blond curls falling into his face as a sigh leaves his lips. he knew you were right. “you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you for once.”

he turns to look at you now, eyes big and dewy, a mixture of surprise and understanding as he comprehends the hidden meaning behind your words. however, before he can utter a single word in response, your hands gently glides along his abdomen, gradually tracing its way down to were the band of his pants delicately meets his waist. his breath catches momentarily, captured by a flicker of anticipation, while his unwavering gaze remains fixed upon your own, unyielding and brimming with unspoken emotions.

“you’ve been working so hard,” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost tauntingly, but he hears you all the same, “... let me help you relieve some of that tension.”

coriolanus swallows hard, falling into your hands, both physically and metaphorically, and he surrenders with a nod. it brought a smile to your face to see the hard exterior he put on crumble, become powerless, and just from your mere touch.

his back stiffened as he leaned against you, watching as your hand roamed lower now, trailing down to where he was confined behind his pants. a shaky breath escapes him and he shifts on the balls of his feet, waiting with anticipation as you finally make contact with his now pulsing bulge. nothing separating you except for the thin material of his underwear.

“y/n,” he sighs, your name falling from his lips so gracefully.

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, pleased to see the effect you had on him. “shh, don’t think about it, you do enough of that as it is. just relax,” you push on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, as a bright flush spreads across it.

you could feel him getting harder in your grasp, his breaths growing shorter and lower, eyes flailing closed with desperation. your hand runs circles around him, groping him where he needed you the most. it brought you pleasure just to hear the soft moans escaping him, watching him lose control to you.

his chest rises and falls at a dramatic pace, his patience wearing thin, but that was all part of the fun. you wanted him needy, begging for you to touch him.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps, illiciting a stroke of excitement in you.

deciding that he had enough of you teasing him, you waste no time delving into his underwear and releasing him from the constraints of his pants. an audible sigh of relief comes from coriolanus as you do so, his body shuddering slightly at the warmth of your hand finally making contact.

he rests in your hand, his largely endowed member, all pretty and pink at the tip. you stroke him teasingly, rubbing the end with your finger to gather the pre-cum that had trickled out, using it to help you start stroking him. he shudders from the movement, struggling to stand still as you slowly pump your hand up and down his shaft.

you remove your hand momentarily to collect some of your spit and when you hold him once more he shudders, struggling to stand still, and his hips begin to move involuntarily. if there was one thing coriolanus loved more than you pleasuring him, it was watching you pleasure him.

tucking his chin against his chest, he watches as your hand works his length, pumping back and forth with ease. his hips jut forward, begging for more, until it all becomes to much and his hands lurch forward to grasp onto the table before him, just like they were when you walked in.

“let it out for me, baby,” your voice is reassuring in his ear, sweet and soft, full of promise.

hearing you speak to him in such a way pulls a moan from the back of his throat and he just about loses it. his body tightens at the same time, hips bucking himself into your hand faster as the coil in the pit of his stomach finally bends and breaks.

he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip to muffle his moans, trying to remain quiet so that no one else could hear what the two of you were up to. his knuckles turn white as he gently bangs his fist down on the desk, and it’s only seconds before your hand is warm with his cum.

“fuck me,” he whisper-shouts, eyes clenching shut as his hips jut and dick twitches in your hand.

“that’s my boy,” the comment pulls a small chuckle from coryo as you remove your hand, his white secretion now coating it, “though, it does seem like an awful waste. i guess it’s a good thing i’m not done with you yet.”

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tonixe · 1 year ago

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make you mine ✧ - ©tonixe ☆ pervert!president snow x fem!reader (proofread ???)

☆ Imagine being coriolanus's little cute maid...he would be all over you, everywhere you walk, and he'd be a few steps away, whenever your busy doing your job, like cleaning the floors, sweeping the cinders, and drying the laundry. His eyes won't leave you at all, because of how cute you were in your little skirt and uniform. He would even purposely make your uniform shorter than normal, your dress reaching your bottom, not even bothering to cover your cotton white panties when you're cleaning the bookcases, standing on your high tippy toes.

You didn't even bother speaking out on the changes, just keeping quiet and lowering your skirt when it began to rise. His favorite thing for you to do is cleaning up his office, purposely making a mess, and calling you to clean it. With your little skirt rising up as you tried to clean everything up, and was busy at the same trying to pull your skirt down to prevent flashing him.

His eyes flickered to your bottom, as your skirt lifted up, and your body bent down trying to get the pens that he dropped. As he got a better view of your ass covered by your panties.

horny!coriolanus would love to get you sitting on his lap, playing with the hem of your uniform, and putting his fingers lower down, till it touched your upper thigh, and his finger slowly entering you. Just to hear your sinful moan from your lips, your head burrowing into the corner of his neck, trying to save yourself from the embarrassing scene.

when your alone with coriolanus in his office. He loves to put his hands all over you in the privacies of his office, having office sex with him. Your body was bent over his desk, as he pushed his cock into you, you gripped the desk trying to get support from him. You covered your mouth trying to hide your moans, as he abused your cunt, closing your eyes and taking the pain. Moans being ripped out of your throat.

horny!coriolanus demands you not wear any of your panties while working at all, so it's easy to access for him. Making your job harder for you with the protection of your panties.

when coriolanus is pent up or really stressed, he loves it when you give him BJ. Your soft lips on his cock, trying to take him inside but gagging. Tear pricking on your waterline, looking up at him with his trembling pleasurable form. Groaning came out of his lips, as he busted his load into your mouth, and you swallowed all of the salty clear, white substances.

He loves to overstimulate you, abusing your clit as he fuck you on his desk. Your back on the desk, as he plunges his cock inside of you. Your uniform was a mess, and flipped up covering your face from seeing anything. Biting your lip down trying to be quiet and not moan out, and making a scene.

Though being a little maid working for coriolanus, he would gift little things like expensive necklaces or bracelets, and even some lingering, making your face turn red looking at it. Being a bright bloody red set...

At night coriolanus would invite you to his chambers, you being the naive little maid you were went, thinking it was some task he wanted you to do. Just for you to be completely almost half naked, taking his cock inside of you, thrusting inside of you. His hands on your waist, gripping down, and your legs up being held with his hands. He bent down, whispering into your ear sweet nothingness, as you mewled at his touch.

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axiina · 1 year ago

Note

I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

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runningfrom2am · 11 months ago

Text

cold nights masterlist (completed)

“gonna hold my breath until you're here 'cause i can't breathe without you."

summary:

all the stars aligned, and it was you.

word count: 118k (have fun)

tags/warnings:

tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

authors note: hi again!! its raye back with another coryo series (shocking absolutely no one). i know i said i wanted to stray from the plot so i wanted to see what i could do with tribute!reader that's not just a copy-paste of lucy gray's story (which i eat up every time btw, no tea no shade) so this one is going to be very different from the original and something totally different from LTPF!! i hope you guys love this as much as you loved that one!!

season one

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve

season two

thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two

season three

twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two.

epilogue.

oneshots

moodboards

black friday

edits

i feel it

playlist // pinterest board

all your thoughts // let’s talk ab it

masterlists // fic recs // nav (please read!)

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #Spotify #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfic #thg fic #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games

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s6ngbird · 11 months ago

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little doll — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆

♡‧₊ warnings — coryo being possessive, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), rough sex, lmk if i forget anything!

♡‧₊ pairing — coriolanus snow x fem!reader

♡‧₊ a/n — wrote this for @etfrin bc me and her were obsessing over coryo (like always <3)

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

to coryo, you were an innocent little doll that he loved to play with and if anyone else tried to even lay a finger on you, he would make sure they were done for

you always took coryo to your house after school to help you with your homework or to study

coryo let you take him, you were so stupid that he knew if he didn't help you in any way he could, you would fail and have to drop out the academy and he didn't want to lose his pretty little doll

being dumb was the exact reason you never realized coryo had an unspoken claim on you, always keeping a hand on you and staring down everyone who tried to make conversation with you

this led to people starting to stop talking to you and you still didn't understand why it happened, but everyone else pitied you for being so dumb

you had asked coryo about it and he just brushed it off, giving you a kiss after which left you shocked since you never knew coryo had a romantic interest in you

but whether you liked it or not, one thing led to another and you ended up in your bed, naked with coryo under you as your eyelids became heavy and coryo stroked your hair, shushing you everytime you were about to say something

you got used to this, having sex everytime after you two finished studying. if you were good and could answer all the questions correctly, he would fuck you nicely, being gentle and praising you, but if you didn't want to study and were giving him a hard time or weren't answering any of the question right, he would fuck you hard, not letting you come or he would fuck your throat, not giving you any pleasure and leaving your house right after that

on this particular night, you had understood the concept, so coryo was gentle with you and let you come and stopped once you started feeling overstimulated

“coryo?” you ask after a while

“yeah doll?” he said, his eyes opening and continuing to stroke your hair

“why do people not talk to me? they always talk with you…what did i do?” you ask, your eyes looking filling with tears as a few threaten to spill

“oh sweetie shhh” coryo says, holding your head to his chest as you cried

you weren't used to people ignoring you since even though you were dumb, you were very social which made people love you

“it's nothing, they're not real friends…ok doll?” he said shushing you and you eventually find yourself asleep after coryo pulls the covers of you two and cuddles you, kissing your head from time to time

the next day, after you coryo go your separate ways, you go to clemensia to see why everyone was avoiding you

she gave you a hug, which confused you but you were grateful for

“it's because of coryo…he's threatened people if they get too close to you, he's really possessive over you, you know?” she replies after you two start walking to lunch together

this left you stunned, you would've never guessed that coryo had been pushing people away from you, but just as you were about to respond, coryo came out of nowhere and kissed you, putting an arm around you as he looked at you happily

“hi doll, hey clemmie” he said, giving clemensia a cold stare but that was all gone the minute you looked up

clemensia gave you a knowing look, saying goodbye to you and coryo as she left

“what was that about?” coryo said looking down at you

“nothing…let's go get lunch” you said not wanting to tell coryo what you found out but he could see it in your eyes

“hmmm i think we should go grab lunch and then go to an empty classroom and study…you have that test tomorrow anyway” coryo said grabbing his lunch, as you grabbed yours

“do we have to?” you asked, coryo knew how much you hated studying

“yes doll, you're never going to learn if you don't continue studying” he said, leading you to an empty classroom, letting you go in as he locks the door behind him

you sit down at the desk, starting to eat when coryo grabs you, pushing you on the table

“what the fuck did she tell you?” he hisses, his face close to your ear as he starts moving his hand up your skirt

“nothing coryo! why the fuck do you care?” you spat, trying to move

coryo didn't like that, you were being disobedient and one thing about coryo is that he only tolerates obedience and anything else gives him a reason to punish you

“why the fuck do i care? it's because your mine doll, no one is allowed to have you but me” he says, pulling off your skirt and ripping your panties

he laughs as you try to claw at his arms, your pussy is slick

“so pathetic doll, can't even tell me that you just want to get fucked hm?” he says, grabbing your arms and pinning them together to avoid you hitting him with your hands

you whimper, shaking your head as coryo shoves two finger in, finding your g-spot quite easily and repeatedly slamming his fingers in, leaving you a whimpering moaning mess

as he adds a third finger, which makes you moan loudly, he starts kissing you, sucking hickeys on your neck and shoulders

after coryo thinks you’re stretched out enough, he takes his fingers out, licking them clean before pulling down his pants, his cock painfully hard now at the thought of being in your warm cunt

without warning, he slams his cock into you, ramming the table into the wall as he fucks you hard, making sure that you got no pleasure from it

you kept whimpering, letting out broken moans and attempting to form coherent sentences but coryo just laughed at your attempts

“what’s wrong doll? too fucked out to even object?” he said, slamming into you with even more force and sucking hickeys all over your breasts

you kept babbling about how good his cock felt and letting out moans and coryo knew he had fucked you dumb already if you weren’t already stupid

coryo enjoyed this because he just wanted control over someone, which is something he had been deprived of his whole life until you came along

finally you stopped babbling, going quiet and that’s how coryo knew you were going to come, quickly pulling out before you could which left you a mess

you had tears running down your cheeks and you were whining, coryo had other plans though

“doll open your mouth” coryo said, pumping his shaft a few times before cumming on your face, some of it landing in your mouth

you still felt like crying, you had a good build up but coryo pulled out before you got to finally have the knot snap

coryo notices and laughs, getting dressed again while you just lay there, catching your breath

“next time, don’t go asking people to tell you things that i’ve already told you ok?” he says, kissing your forehead and leaving the classroom

#🎀 — fics #tom blyth #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #billy the kid #billy the kid smut #young coriolanus snow

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evielmostdefinitely · 11 months ago

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finding coriolanus’ old peace keeper uniform.

after the engagement, you two are moving into a shared home in the center of the capitol. it’s buried deep in a silver trunk, stashes of photos, his dog tags, a few other odd things, and the blue jumpsuit. it’s slightly stiff with storage, the material thick and sturdy.

“maybe you should put it on.” you grin at him, playful in tone, but the glint in your eye tells him otherwise.

so he humors you, if for not other reason than his own morbid curiosity. see where this goes.

“how does it look?” the material fits tighter around his chest now, more mature, more grown up.

your mouth waters at the sight, ogling his dog tags hanging around his neck. “i think i miss the shaved hair.” you giggle. “can’t believe i’m saying that.”

coriolanus grins, watching you carefully, calculated steps coming towards you. “what is it?” he hummed, hands smoothing over the thick, blue material.

“i-i like your dog tags.” you admitted, eyes flashing to his sweetly, his heart skipping. “you should wear them more.”

your legs are around his waist after that, scratching and grabbing at his the bare skin of his back. coryo’s soft grunts mixing with your own breathy whimpers, fucking into you on the mattress. his dog tags dangling over your face, your chest. he’d purposefully hover so you could grab them in your mouth, sucking on them while you looked at him, eyes rounded and begging.

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francixoxoxo · 4 months ago

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˚ .✧ Precious as Rubies

𝒞ℴ𝓇𝒾ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝒮𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒳 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

𝒞ℴ𝓇𝒾ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒽ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝓂ℯ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒽ℯ𝓁𝓁． 𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓋ℯ𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝓇ℴ𝓃𝑔， ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓎ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓈．

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭!

𝐓𝐖: 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Lollllll sorry for angst

Coriolanus’ world had nearly stopped turning when the doctor told him your pregnancy could be fatal.

He swore he would never, never love the child who killed the love of his life. The only woman he could ever love. Coryo’s late-night tears became cries of anger, tears of spite. That damn fetus. He did this to you, he put that parasite into your perfect body and now you wouldn’t let him fix his mistake. Now you forced him to live with the consequences.

He would never love the child that killed you.

Coriolanus had been paralyzed with fear that all that spite, all that hate for his own baby might dampen whatever love he had left, now that she had let you live. He was proved impossibly wrong, the very moment Ruby wrapped her little, chubby fingers around his pinky and his azure eyes flooded with tears. Oh, it was him wrapped around her finger from then on.

The first night you brought her home, Coriolanus held you close to him, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Telling you just how grateful he was for you. Murmuring just how much he adored you. Putting his foot down and whispering that you two would have no more children after this whole wreck. It seemed like just after you two fell asleep, Ruby’s cries came from the nursery.

Coryo moved to get up, but you shook your head. “She’s hungry. I’ll get it.” You cooed, a gentle hand on his chest pushing him back against the mattress. He grumbled something but obliged you.

When you slipped back into his arms, Coryo stirred only enough to press a kiss to your hairline and mumble a goodnight. You were exhausted, sleep was calling your name.

Until a few hours later you awoke to your daughter’s bawls from the room over. This time, your husband threw the covers off him before you could protest. He leaned over you to press a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, “It’s only fair.”

You don’t protest. Childbirth has exhausted you, quite frankly. So you let your eyes flutter shut, and your mind slip into sleep.

You wake up only just a few hours later, though not to Ruby crying. Some instinct in you forces you to your feet— Coryo isn’t in his side of the bed. Barefoot and sore, you make your way to the nursery, all sorts of nerves shooting through you.

When you push open the door, the hallway lights pour into the dark nursery to illuminate Coriolanus, sitting in the rocking chair beside Ruby’s bassinet. He was absolutely knocked out, baby in his arms, bottle empty in his hand and head tipped back against the chair, blonde curls loose and mussed. Oh, what a sight.

You worked hard to keep your laughter to yourself, carefully stepping closer and kissing Coryo’s forehead. You almost lifted Ruby from his arms, but it was such a tender vision that you couldn’t bring yourself to. You slept very soundly, knowing that your baby was safely tucked into her father’s arms.

Coriolanus proved himself over and over again just how good a father he could be. You and him both agreed that you needed to be involved with Ruby, you couldn’t just leave her to a nanny as most capitol socialites would.

Ruby was a blessing, and Coryo always treated her as such. He read to her at night, you’d sit in that same rocking chair he’d fallen asleep in all those years ago, looking between your daughter and husband. His eyes would be trained on the book, occasionally he smiled up at Ruby. Oh, she’d grown into the most darling little girl.

With your dark locks in the shape of Coryo’s thick curls, and his bright, sapphire eyes, rosy little cheeks and sweet smiles. Ruby stole everyone’s heart the moment she spoke. Coriolanus absolutely spoiled her, adorning her little neck in expensive yet simple and childish necklaces, a favorite of hers becoming a dainty ruby on a golden chain. You dressed her in the cutest baby doll dresses, wrapping her up in the best fashions and most darling colors to suit her cheery nature. Every toy that girl wanted, her father was holding behind his back, cooing for her to close her eyes as he presented it to her the very next day. Spoiled absolutely rotten, you’d say to Coryo.

“Well, I don’t see a problem.” Coriolanus shrugged, looking up from the documents on his desk and peering at you through his lashes. You were sprawled out over a chaise against the wall of his office, feet propped up on the armrest and a hand splayed over your belly. You’d put a five year old Ruby to bed about thirty minutes ago. it was another late night for Coryo and a restless one for you, so you figured you might stay up with him.

You shake your head. “She’ll get a big head if we aren’t careful.” Coriolanus shook his head, smiling softly to himself. He scrawled his signature on a bill.

“She hasn’t yet. Ruby’s a very humble girl.” Coriolanus announced with pride, glancing towards you. You didn’t seem convinced, still worrying for your daughter. “My love, you never got snobbish. I could shower her in jewels bigger than her fist and she would still take after you.” You were relieved to find that, years later, he was correct.

She never got greedy, or snobbish. Surrounded by spoiled children of her father’s colleagues, you were very careful to remind her to be humble. To be kind.

While you and Coryo got ready for a gala, she’d sit on your bed, watching her father clasp expensive diamond necklaces around your neck, pressing sweet kisses to your shoulder as he zipped up the back of your dress. Watching as you fixed his tie, listening as your wit brought laughter from his lips. The two of you showed Ruby what love was, what it meant to give your whole heart to a person.

Coryo would stand behind you, letting you use up the mirror as he rested his hands on your hips. You’d adjust your hair, and your husband’d rest his chin on your shoulder, meeting Ruby’s eyes in the mirror. “Isn’t your mother beautiful?” He’d say, every single time, lifting his brows. And every single time, Ruby’d nod enthusiastically.

Coriolanus certainly made sure to raise a daughter who adored her mother as much as he did, especially when you’d gone through such hell to have one at all.

When Ruby turned seven, Coryo had excused himself from breakfast for a moment. You’d stood behind your daughter, your hands on her shoulders, raising your brows at your husband as he reentered. Ruby was watching him with big eyes.

“You’re a responsible little girl, aren’t you?” Coriolanus raised his brows, but unable to resist a smile at his daughter. He held his hands behind his back, hiding the present from her. She nodded passionately. “And you’ll take care of this gift?” Ruby would nod her head off her neck if she could.

Coryo glanced up at you, and at your little nod, he brought his hands ‘round to his front to present to a Ruby a kitten, hardly the size of both his palms. Ruby gaped at the little muss of fur, pelt white as snow. “For me? It’s for me?” Ruby gasped, grabbing at the cat eagerly.

“It’s for you, darling girl.” You cooed, watching her hold the kitten. Coryo steps around his daughter and her new cat to slip an arm around your waist.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Ruby squealed, moving to sit on her knees with her legs tucked under her, setting the kitten on the floor of the dining room. You watched as Ruby stroked the kitten twixt the ears, her brows drawing in deep thought.

“What’s the matter?” You frown. Ruby shakes her head, shifting the little kitten to the crook of her elbow and coming to hug Coriolanus. Her arms could only wrap around his hips, her head hardly reaching his stomach. His hand instantly came to card through her dark locks. “Nothing… I just don’t know what to name her.” Ruby mumbles into her father’s suit.

Coriolanus reaches down and scoops her up, resting her on his hip. He pretends he isn’t grossed out by the cat on his new suit jacket. “Well, it’s up to you.” He raises his brows. You shrug, slipping a hand between your daughter and husband to stroke Ruby’s cheek.

“What about…” You squint a moment, staring at the rosy hue of your daughter’s cheeks. The color of a— “Poppy?”

Ruby’s sapphire eye lit up, that was the one. She gasped a little, smiling brightly. “Poppy!”

“Mm, mama’s just full of good ideas.” Coryo hummed, leaning over to press a tender but quick kiss to your lips. He turns so Ruby can get a chance to smack a little kiss to your cheek. God, he wished she could stay so little forever.

But she couldn’t. She grew too fast for both of your likings. Before you knew it she was a teenager, earning scoldings from her father practically left and right. “She’s got your rebellious streak,” Coriolanus would huff in the aftermath of a reprimanding. You’d often send him to her room to make things up before bed. He would go reluctantly, but to your satisfaction always come back with a lighter heart and an easier mind.

Before your eyes, Ruby grew into a captivating woman. Yet often she’d still sit on the floor beside your chair, laying her head in your lap and letting her long, luscious dark curls wash across your legs. Ruby would come to you when she was arguing with her father, huffing harsh words about Coriolanus, but biting her tongue as you gently defended his intentions. You’d push your fingers through her hair, watching as those familiar azure eyes stared up at you with an equally familiar adoration.

“Mama, he’s just cruel sometimes.” Ruby muttered, nosing your thigh, her arms tightening around your waist. You absentmindedly braided a few ringlets together as you shake your head.

“He means well, baby.” You promise. Ruby was complaining of the most recent fight, over a man she was seeing. You personally took a liking to the boy, but Coryo made it very clear to you that he didn’t want him anywhere near his little girl. Ruby insisted that she wasn’t so little, that her father didn’t get to make her decisions for her anymore. “He just wants a good partner for you.”

“Nandor is a good man.” Ruby sighed, tilted her head and lifted her eyes to your face. “Won’t you convince him?”

You smile a bit regretfully, stroking the backs of your fingers down her rosy cheeks. “Not good enough for you, my heart.” Nothing would ever be good enough for Ruby, not to Coriolanus. But you agreed to talk to your husband about the boy.

Sometimes you missed when she had been little, moldable and curious. But you were so, unbelievably proud of how far from moldable she was now, as a young woman. Your Ruby was a steadfast, wise girl.

Late at night, you’d murmur these thoughts to Coryo. You’d trace the extra creases in his handsome face that time had etched as he spoke without any bite in his words. “She’s bullheaded.” He’d smile, the action creasing his eyes. You mirrored him.

“Like her father.” You’d remind him, gently.

No matter how stubborn she was, Coriolanus absolutely loved his daughter with his whole heart. He’d try and put up a strong face but she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. And had been making Coryo proud ever since. Proud of her intelligence. Proud of her fiery spirit. Proud of the woman she had became.

All the pain Ruby had caused you was infinitely worth it.

Where the time had gone, Coriolanus didn’t have a clue.

He fidgets with the cuffs of his suit, trying to retrace his steps as if to find exactly where the past two decades went. Twenty-five years. Too soon, he had told Ruby, but that girl was stubborn as all hell. Too soon, he had told you, but you’d smiled and reminded him of how young you both were at your wedding.

Still, Coriolanus drew his eyebrows, he recently had become aware of the amount of creases in his forehead all that time had awarded him. Ruby had just been born, hadn’t she? He’d just had the scare of his life; the relief of his life. He’d just fallen asleep at her crib, watching her sleep through tired eyes. He’d just been picking out a kitten for his little girl, just been smiling like a fool at you while he let her stand on his feet as they danced, he could’ve sworn Ruby had just been little.

But clearly that wasn’t the case. He rubbed his temple, trying to sort the words that he needed to say when he returned to your side later. Trying to think of how he could describe how distraught he felt.

Coryo was giving her away. Too soon. Too young. Oh, it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. You seemed so calm. You were always calm, though, weren’t you? He’s glad Ruby didn’t inherit his anxiety.

No, you seemed happy for her. Coriolanus was happy for her, of course. But he couldn’t overlook the fact that Ruby would no longer be under his roof. No longer would she be at his breakfast table, or just down the hall, or just in the garden. He would send her off well, of course; he made sure she and her new husband had the house of their dreams, completely paid for. But that wasn’t any consolation.

It was bittersweet, that’s the word he decided on.

Coryo stood the moment the door opened, smoothing down his tie and buttoning his suit jacket. A smile creeps across his face as he takes in Ruby, his daughter, his darling girl, dressed in a smooth, white sheath dress. He steps forward, brows lifting as his eyes drift over her long sleeves, the lace around her waist, the elegance of the dress.

“Oh, darling.” Coriolanus breathes, nostrils flaring to keep the tears out of his eyes. He lifts her hand, giving her a little twirl and eyeing the lace of her veil. “You’re a beautiful bride.”

“I feel beautiful, really.” Ruby grins, and Coryo is forced to face it. Forced to look into her eyes, her irises like mirrors of his own, forced to realize that she was grown. She was a woman, not a little girl. She looked like you, his heart swelled to think.

Maybe his eyes are wetting, because Ruby hooks her arm around the crook of his elbow, and leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. Coriolanus turns his face to look at her, smiling a bit sadly. “You ready for this?”

“Not in the slightest.” He admits, and as Ruby laughs he realizes that her eyes were wet too. His other hand comes to cup over hers resting on his arm.

Ruby stares at the double doors that they’d walked in front of, her eyes wide and bright. Coriolanus inspected her face. Oh, he didn’t care how old she got, or where she lived, nor who with, he would never stop adoring his daughter.

“I love you, Papa.” Ruby breathes as two servants begin to push the doors open, the muffled piano suddenly filling her ears.

Coryo blinks away some more tears, his chest swelling with a deep breath. “I loved you first.”

Perhaps half a year later, Ruby told the two of you over lunch that she was pregnant.

Pregnant.

Ruby, your little darling girl, was having a child of her own. Oh, you felt so happy that your heart threatened to swell enough to burst. Your daughter was making her own life, and though Coriolanus was convinced that it would be separate from yours, you two would most certainly be in it.

Coryo tried his best to hide it, but you could see those little tears pricking his eyes. Tears of joy, that boyish grin stretching across his lips told you. You clasped his hand tight, the gesture reciprocated with a lingering peck to your cheek.

You feared the worst for a bit. You were paralyzed by the thought that Ruby’s pregnancy would be as horrific as yours was.

But she seemed fine. She didn’t become gaunt, as you had. She was full, glowing and happy. Ruby didn’t feel faint or ill, though she did have normal aches. Everything about her pregnancy was just normal. Perfectly healthy.

Ruby insisted on having her baby at home. You had your qualms, but that girl had always been bullheaded. You just asked that she call you and Coriolanus, so you could be there.

Well, she hadn’t. Neither had her dolt of a husband.

Her dolt of a husband who, scrambling over his words on the phone to Coriolanus, he thought the amount of blood was normal, thought nothing of it, until it had been too late. The midwife couldn’t staunch the blood.

It took everything in him to not kill Nandor himself. He instead sent one of his men, his nostrils flaring as he used the phone built into the back of the limousine to call him, clutching your hand. That idiot, that fool, that devil had practically killed Ruby. The moment he hung up, he was consoling you. Coryo pet your hair away from your face as you wept, your fists clutching onto his suit.

How could this happen? She was perfectly fine, you thought. “She was healthy, she was meant to be healthy. This wasn’t meant to happen! It was meant to be better for her!” You rambled as you bawled, sobbing into Coriolanus’s chest. You stood in the corner of the room, paramedics swarming your daughter. Oh, your poor daughter.

Your darling girl.

Your Ruby.

Coryo, for one, was furious. White hot rage licked at his skin like wildfire. All of his power. All of his control. It meant nothing here. He knew this silly home birth bullshit would only end poorly. But had Ruby listened to him? Had Ruby accepted his money, his offer of the best doctors, the best medicine, the best hospitals? No. She never listened to him, that girl.

He feels out of his mind. His hand is on your band, holding you close and tight, his nose is in your hair, his eyes are stinging, but his mind feels like trudging through murky water.

Coriolanus vaguely recalls wishing that the baby would die, and not you. That God would save you, his love, his life, his everything, in return for taking the fetus. When he got to have both, he wondered how he could ever pray for such a thing.

But he was certain now that God was listening. What a sick joke, he thought, to let Coryo hold his baby. To let him dance with her, read to her, walk with her, love her, only to rip her away. Oh, he regrets every vile thought he’d ever had about Ruby before she was born, when all she was to him was a parasite trying to kill you.

She was killing you now, all over again. Your body shook with sobs, the sound heartbreaking. It was a sharp, consuming pain, to lose a child. To lose a daughter. You felt as if something integral to your soul had been shattered. What hadn’t taken you, had taken your baby.

What a cruel joke.

You weren’t sure when Coriolanus let go of you, his arms unwinding from around you to receive the infant from a paramedic. Cleaned and wrapped in an inoffensive, white cloth. There wasn’t much your distraught mind could manage besides resting a hand on— as the paramedics told you— your granddaughter’s head. You sniffled as fresh bouts of tears poured down your cheeks.

For a moment, Coriolanus was terrified that this was Deja vu. Paralyzing fear shot through him, fear that he would be unable to love this baby. The same way he feared he would be unable to love the child that killed you, he feared he’d resent the child that killed Ruby. His darling Ruby. How could he feel kinship to the parasite that killed his daughter?

But as he held the infant in his hands, his brow pulled taut, oh, no, it was clear. Crystal. He murmured, voice featherlight, “I’ve got you.” You thumped your head to his shoulder, your tears wetting his sleeve. You saw some kind of fierce love in Coryo’s eyes, his jaw ticking.

He could see Ruby in her.

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perlelune · 1 year ago

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | i.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Birdsong fills your ears as you meticulously unearth the last few weeds in the soil. Careful to not damage the stems, you pull gently while barely disturbing the dirt. The last step is pruning. With ginger motions, you cut each crooked branch pointing in the wrong direction. Beads of sweat drip down from your forehead into the soil.

The heat from the sun is unforgiving today.

But you welcome the labor, even with the sweltering weather. Time flies when you spend it in the garden.

It’s a welcome distraction, the kind you’ve sorely craved as of late. Idleness does you no good. It often ends with you curled beneath your blankets, drowning in a puddle of your own tears.

Each day you wake up hoping none of it was real.

The harsh reality swiftly claims its right however.

It’s everywhere. All the painful little reminders.

The empty chair at the dinner table. All the spots he loved in the house, now desolate without him. His untouched room, lacking the messiness he usually favored.

And there’s all the times you turn, words tingling on your tongue, hoping he’ll be there to listen to you as always.

Then you remember.

Your brother can never listen to you again. And neither will you listen to him.

You’ll never hear his stupid laugh again or his crazy stories.

And your whole life you’ll turn, hoping to see him standing right there, beside you, but he will not be here.

Your grip on the shears loosen. They hit the vibrant green grass with a quiet thud.

You lift your eyes to admire your handiwork.

The garden looks nice; the flowers are thriving. The roses in particular.

They have bloomed wonderfully this year, having blushed to a gorgeous scarlet.

Your heart sinks.

If only Sejanus were here to see it. Your brother spent most of his life helping you tend to this garden. Whenever he wasn’t busy at the Academy or with the various tasks Strabo had for him, your brother was here, with you.

You both worked in silence, basking in the warmth of the sun and the pleasure of each other’s company.

The garden turns into a watercolor rainbow before you as your eyes well up with tears.

“We have company, sweetie.”

You swivel towards the familiar airy tone your mother often uses. She often emphasizes the importance of poise and decorum in every situation. Even in the current situation, your mother’s held her head high. Still, you don’t miss the subtle red rims around her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks.

Like you, she’s suffering. While you may not share blood with your family, having been adopted when you were three, your bond with your mother has always been as strong as if she gave birth to you.

Confusion has your brows collide into each other.

“Company? We weren’t expecting anyone.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, gripping your shoulders. Heartbreak flashes in her eyes, the same soulful ones as her departed son. “I’m hurting too, but you can’t hide forever.”

She cups your face and advises, “Go put on a nice dress, and wash up some. You have dirt on your face.” Disapproval pinches your mother’s features as she gauges your disheveled appearance. She sighs. "You know you don’t have to do that. This is what we have staff for."

Help. You suppose your mother refers to the Avoxes who tend to the yard sometimes. The sight of them fills you with rage and disgust.

Just one of the Capitol’s many crimes against its own people. Who would even clip someone’s tongue as punishment, then have them serve their tormentors?

It’s beyond vile and sadistic. But what else to expect from a place that openly sponsors child murder?

At times, you feel as if you’re living amongst beasts masquerading as human beings.

Still, you feign nonchalance. Some opinions cannot be voiced aloud, even to your parents. Especially to your parents.

"It calms me down," you explain, shedding your gloves and removing your wide-brimmed hat.

“Sweetie…”

She gives you yet another lecture on proper ladylike behavior. As usual, you only listen with half an ear, checking out about five minutes into her querulous spiel.

You’ve heard it at least a million times before. Still, you indulge her like the dutiful daughter you are.

She then reminds you to get dressed. You don’t have to be told twice.

You head to the back door connecting the garden to your room.

While you do as you’ve been instructed, inquiries crowd your mind. Your parents haven’t been too fond of visitors lately. Besides, what kind of company requires you to dress up?

As you head to your massive closet, you wonder who’d visit your family at such a time.

Your mother’s refrained from entertaining altogether and your father’s poured all his energy in his business, turning down most social calls.

You randomly pick a dress, a pale blue one with a sweetheart neckline, before making your way downstairs.

Faint chatter echoes from the sunroom near your father’s office. You follow the hushed voices.

Astonishment rushes through you when you realize who’s having tea with your father.

You haven’t seen him since reaping day.

“Coriolanus?” you gasp.

He stands to his full height at the sound of you calling his name. Your surprise multiplies.

He seems so…different, yet you can’t pinpoint what exactly about him elicits that impression within you. After all, he's still the same tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed, dashing young man you knew before.

But something has changed. You can feel it.

Even the air around him moves in a different way, it seems.

He makes his way to you, surprising you further by grabbing your hand and brushing his lips over the back of it.

“You look lovely,” he mumbles, cobalt eyes finding yours.

Warmth rushes to your cheeks. You don’t remember Coriolanus ever being so…chivalrous.

“T-Thank you,” you stammer.

“I’ll let you two kids catch up,” your father states, nodding at the blond before taking his leave.

“How are you holding up?” the young man asks, escorting you to a nearby bench.

It occurs to you that he’s still holding your hand, his long slender fingers curled around yours. Cheeks aflame once again, you draw it back and tuck it in your lap.

Coriolanus’ brow twitches at your tiny gesture.

“I…Dad said you were the one who brought the box with his things. That was so thoughtful of you.”

A subtle smile spreads on his lips.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it means a lot,” you insist, shaking your head. “Any part of him it’s…it’s important to keep it.”

You fidget as he studies you, his crystalline gaze unreadable.

“But you have the most important part with you all the time. In the end it’s all we have, right? Our memories.”

Your heart swells with warmth. He’s right, you surmise. After all, every memory of your brother is yours. Forever. They will never be taken away.

You’re a little taken aback though. Who knew Coriolanus Snow to be so sentimental?

“Thanks, Coryo.”

His mouth tenses at the nickname but his tight-lipped smile expands. You used to call him that when you were little, having witnessed Tigris do it. It stuck and he never corrected you.

“I missed you. I think the last time you came to our house you were like seven or eight, right?” A soft giggle leaves your lips. “Janus had to drag you there. He kept asking and you always said no.”

He shrugs.

“All the other kids were picking on him. I didn’t want to make it worse for him.”

Your voice softens. “But you never did. Pick on him I mean.” They may not have been the closest but you remembered how much it meant to Sejanus at the time, that at least one kid in his class wasn’t harassing him for being from a district. While some thought he was merely upholding the grace befitting his name and status, you believed otherwise. You’ve always been convinced that beneath the sturdy layer of indifference he drapes over himself, Coriolanus is kinder than he seems. He was kind to you after all.

He spoke to you many times, even playing with you when many other children wouldn’t. Over the years, you grew a bit apart but he’s always been sweet whenever you ran into each other.

“So, what have you been up to?” he asks, changing the subject.

You sigh. “Not much,” you admit. “Gardening, reading, going to class. The preparations for the wedding take up most of my time anyway.”

His jaw ticks as a slight crease appears on his forehead.

“A wedding? Are you helping someone plan their wedding?”

“No…It’s for my wedding actually.”

Your engagement ring glimmers, catching the sunlight as you show it to him.

Coriolanus’ frown deepens.

“You’re engaged? I didn’t realize.”

Enthusiastic, you nod. “Yeah, he’s amazing. We met at Uni. Dad doesn’t like him too much though.”

This seems to catch his interest, his head leaning sideways.

“Is that so?”

“His family’s from the districts…and Dad said his breeding will drag down to our name.”

Just saying it boils your blood. How hypocritical of your father when the Plinth house had its roots in District 2. Sometimes, it stuns you how far your father’s strayed from the plight of his own people, going as far as sponsoring and financing the barbaric practice the Hunger Games are.

Sejanus never stood for it, rightfully so.

It’s one of the many reasons you miss him. He never embraced the horrors of Panem, fighting against your father’s plans for him at every turn. In the end, it even got him killed.

“He just wants what’s best for you." He pauses, plucking your hand from your lap. His long fingers twine with yours. His tone dips, oozing concern. "I do too. You deserve the best. I hope you know that.”

A wave of emotions engulfs you. You don’t notice you’ve begun shedding tears until he reaches up to your face, using his thumbs to collect them.

You give a watery smile.

“Thank you. For everything. For the box. For coming.”

He traces your tear-stained cheek with his finger.

“I should have reached out more," he says, glistening blue eyes locking with yours.

Your hands cover his. You never expected in a million to hear such words leaving Coriolanus’ mouth. He’s always been so…aloof.

This is the kind of change you can only welcome. You often hoped Coriolanus would open himself more to others.

“It’s okay. We can catch up now. Make up for lost time," you chime.

His lips twist upward. "Right. We have all the time in the world."

Struck with the abrupt realization of your closeness, the way he cups your face being easy to misconstrue for an onlooker, you scoot backwards and clear your throat.

Flames tickle your cheeks.

You’d be lying if you said you never harbored a little crush on the handsome heir of House Snow growing up. He on the other end, never seemed to notice you, his attention always on girls like Clemmie or Arachne. It makes sense, you suppose. They are, after all, cut from the same cloth. Bonded by generations upon generations of hoarded wealth and an elusive code of rules and conduct you never fully grasped.

The mere way you hold a cup of tea gives you away.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re older now and about to get married. You can’t wander the wistful lands of childhood fantasies anymore.

So while keeping a careful distance, you offer solemnly, “I… Dad is attending this fundraiser tonight…to funnel the promotion funds for the next Hunger Games." Your brow furrows as disdain coats your tone. You can’t believe plans to repeat this ghastly tradition are being set in motion. "I didn’t want to go but he wants the family to present a strong front."

You pointedly omit to speak of your father’s blackmail and all he threatened to take from you if you didn’t show up, starting with the roof over your head.

See how well you fare as district trash, how long it takes you to crawl back home and beg for scraps.

You discard Strabo’s harsh warning to the deepest recesses of your mind. While you know he loves you, he also doesn’t tolerate any misstep from you. They took you in after all, saved you from a life of misery. Otherwise you’d have grown up an orphan. Instead, you get to live a lavish, easy existence in the lap of luxury, now the heir apparent to the Plinth fortune since Janus has passed.

You’re grateful, of course, for all they gave you. You just hate having to forsake your origins and partake passively in the slaughter of innocent children. Once you’re at the helm of the company, you’ll do everything in your power to stir up change. Every tidal wave begins with a small ripple. Perhaps one day all those tiny ripples will come together and form a tsunami, one that’ll wash away the sins of the Capitol and too many years of injustice.

"You should come. I could introduce you to my fiancé,” you offer.

Hopefully seeing both of them in one place will cement which one of them is your past and which one is your present. You don’t like the way a single touch from him flustered you so easily.

While you’re thrilled to resume your friendship with him, you and Coriolanus can never be more than that.

Besides the obvious matter of your impending nuptials, the two of you are so different. There has to be someone out there for him, some lucky girl that’ll make him so happy. And you bet he’ll make her happy too.

One thing's for sure however. That girl isn’t you.

Coriolanus sizes you up before giving a slow reply.

“I look forward to it,” he says.

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosbas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!fic #tbosas fanfiction

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