#tbosas x oc

[dracuno]

now that everyone is (openly) equally as obsessed with coryo as i was when i started reading the book prior to the film's release but i was scared to say anything��✋ i want to share a little snippet from my coriolanus snow x oc thing i'm writing :>> i do also plan to write x reader one shots & stuff eventually here but i just wanted to share this first because i have no one to rant abt this to </3

update: should i post more abt my oc🥹🥹

[fleshthatfalls]

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖗 -- 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖚𝖘 𝖘𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖝 𝖔𝖈, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

♡ - hi hi hi everyone ! it's of great excitement to announce that i've finally completed my first coryo x victor! oc fic. after several months in the making (it's long af, i sowwy) this is my final product ! i haven't written much in well over several years, so please bear with me, lol. henceforth, i do intend on making this a series starring snow and his little bitchy girl with fics centered around a variety of stages and happenings within the relationship. since tumblr felt the need to implement shitty character limits, the smut will be in a part 2 that i'll be posting shortly. i additionally have a prologue prepared and will be fleshing out a masterlist in due time, so if you find yourself vibing with our questionable couple, i'd be more than happy to add you to a future taglist ! to conclude, i do hope you all come to enjoy my writing (and smut, as what coriolanus snow fic would be complete without it) and i'm immensely grateful for any and all likes and reblogs !

♡ - warnings ; set eight months after lola's victory in the 12th hunger games, loads of glee scene refrences, lola is essentially just santana but bi and more fucked up, mentions of drugs

Cool, stagnant air encompassed the ostentatious, albeit agreeable setting of the sitting room, belonging to none other than Coriolanus Snow, newly appointed President of Panem. Flickers from the vivid glow of the fireplace illuminated the warm tan of Lola's face, as she perched on the upholstery of a posh settee occupying the space. "I'm telling you, Tigris, that Lysandre character is a fucking psycho." Lysandre. Tigris's fresh-faced, undergrown cretin of a boyfriend. The young victor shifted, her intense brown, borderline black irises fastening on Tigris Snow- Dolores's former stylist and cherished companion. The woman's benevolence was never lost on Lola, and where the majority of Coriolanus's personnel failed to apprehend was the absence of insults noted in his wife's exchanges with the eldest Snow. An Achilles heel accounted for such inability, the prospect of throwing even the most minimal of shade to Tigris chilled the blood in Lola's veins.

"Here we go again." Tigris's voice drifted airily, forsaking the topic in favor of reviewing some pretentious, page-length fashion article of Capitol Couture.

"Listen. When I first met him, totally thought he was weird. He smelled all talcomy like an old doll and then he said I wasn't a 'real' Capitolite until I had my first makeover and I was like, what does that even mean, who are you?" Onyx stilettos clinked sharply against the floor tiling as the victor stood, eyes rolling reflexively and narrowing into a glare. "Who, Lysandre? He's a sweetheart." The statuesque blonde refuted with what almost sounded to be a rehearsed aplomb. "That's what I told myself. I said so what if he's completely hairless and made out of plastic, i'm going to look past the fact that he probably has a disgusting pornstar landing strip. I'm going to give him a chance, but then I found this- twelve thousand Panem dollars in cash." A wallet engraved with incriminating initials was tugged from Lola's bra, it's exterior tinged a dubious crimson. Stillness recircled the room, palpable tension virtually emanating off of Tigris below her.

"And when did you find that?" By now, the blonde's magazine was promptly flung aside. "When I was rooting through all of the pockets and drawers in this mansion." Came Mrs. Snow's clipped response, all too eerily indistinguishable from her own husband's. "Wait..what- Lola, you went through all of our stuff?" Golden-hued pupils locked with Dolores's. "Yeah, that's a thing I do." Yet another offhand explanation she supplied. "It's completely unacceptable!" Snapped an exasperated Tigris, the blonde's demeanor descending into one of what Lola would categorize as atypical.

In a flash of movement, Tigris sprung from her seat, impelling the victor to retract backwards. "Okay. I like how you always pretend to be so accepting about everything, but when your friend who lives here, mind you, goes through all of your stuff, you're offended?" but Tigris advanced with a look of dismay, arms folded stiffly across her front. "Just because he keeps money on him doesn't make him a psycho!"

"That's what I thought, right? Who cares if he's terrified of flames, because if I were made of plastic I'd be scared of alot of things too. Open flames, barbeques, but then I found this." A device bearing a resemblance to recorders commonly programmed into the Jabberjays of the Capitol's War department. "What, a remote?" Questioned Tigris, reluctantly allowing herself to examine said appliance that dangled between Lola's fingers, the sheen of polished violet tips catching the gleam of dusk filtering along the windowpane.

"This is a pager, my friend. And there's only one type of person in this world that carries both cash and a pager- Lysandre is a morphling dealer." She finished, inwardly soaking up the hubris that bounced around in her mind.

"He's not a morphling dealer, please, okay? It's snowing outside, so he's likely stranded somewhere. Do you want me to call him?" Okay, I'll prove it to you." No answer was given in the seconds Tigris took to make her way to Coryo's desk, clenched hands hastily removing a telephone from it's designation on the hardwood. Fingertips flew across the dialpad, grasping the reciever to her ear. The opposing line crackled to life. "Hey Tigris, what's going on?" With a pointed glance given to Dolores, the stylist relaxed her grip. "Hey, sweetheart. Where are you?" A playing card was plucked from a deck strewn amid the desk's surface as Lola maneuvered to it's edge, using the card to mimic a chopping motion. "Uh, all of the trains are closed so I'm stuck at my friend's house for the time being." The brisk reply that left the recieving line only prompted the victor to slant over, with one fingertip to the side of her nose, 'snorting' a line of morphling- glossed lips curving into a wild grin.

"You remember Festus, right?" Lola could easily see the endeavored glower darting behind her friend's eyes. "Well I miss you." Said playing card fell to the floor, and as Tigris crouched downward to retrieve it, Lola's petty mockery concluded with a blown, widening of her pupils. "Hey listen. I've gotta go, but I will be back as soon as I can." The abrupt level of silence as the line clicked off had Dolores eyerolling to the skies. "See? There you go!" All too plainly an recited answer, duh ! No exchanges continued as  the still ambience encirled the white room once again, unprompted.

[evielmostdefinitely]

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.

[cloudywriting05]

one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.” 

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 

“So why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 

“Perfect.” 

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“You wanna feel me?” 

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

[thecharacterchronicler]

The Bitter Taste Of My Fury (Part 4) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut

GIF is not mine, credits to the creator/owner ❤️

Outline: After a vicious attack from the rebels, Coriolanus lets some of his true feelings for you show.

Word count: 5’133

Warnings: death, murder, PTSD and explicit smut.

Author’s note: I wrote this forever ago and can’t seem to be 100% satisfied with it for some reason, I’m feeling awfully self conscious putting this out so please have mercy on me.

I made a few changes to the original story so that it would fit with my fanfic. (Making the quarter quell for which they sent two boys and two girls the 25th one instead of the 50th so that Coriolanus and his wife’s ages would fit into my plot.) I tried to make it readable as a one shot but keep in mind that it’s actually part of a multi-part series if you need/want more context.

It would help me out a lot with my next WIPs if you could answer the poll down below 🖤

((Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler)) - ((Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top)) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable)) - (( Part 5 - Craving ))

Coriolanus risked a glance from behind the black curtain to survey the large amphitheater quickly - and noisily - filling up. It was his last speech before the day of the election, his last opportunity to convince the people of Panem that he would be a good president. He had been working on his text for weeks, the last few days he had even stayed up all night to practice and memorize it to the point that the words were constantly turning in his head. He was nervous and, even if he usually was pretty good at hiding it - he felt like all the citizens taking place in the room to listen to him would notice how much he was afraid of messing up.

“You’re supposed to go on stage in five minutes.” Minerva said, Coriolanus’s young assistant was stressed out, as per usual. “Excuse me Sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that your wife isn’t here… Yet ?”

The last time Coriolanus had seen you, you both got into an argument which ended with him, fucking you rougher than what he ever allowed himself to until then. Once he was done with you, you still seemed upset with him and the reason of the dispute still grated on his nerves. For the three following days, he had spent his nights at his office. He had been mulling over what your strong feelings about such a futile matter might mean. He had expected you to be unhappy with his decision to fire Marius, your driver, but he hadn’t thought you’d be so vocal about it, even daring to demand that he be rehired. He had fired a lot of his employees in the past and you had never complained about it once, but your personal driver seemed more important to you than all the others… Was it because you had an affair with him ? Was he the one to provide you with comfort and attention whenever Coriolanus worked late ? And what if he was the one who ended up getting you pregnant ? Surely he couldn’t accept that. His heir needed to be his.

“I sent Alastair to get her an hour ago, they should arrive any minute now.” He replied, his tone unexpectedly soft in contrast to his growing irritation. But he had faith that his own driver would drag you out of the manor himself if you refused to attend such an important event for your husband.

Coriolanus glanced in the amphitheater once again, scanning the crowd in search of your familiar face but still didn’t find it. He tugged on his collar, feeling more stressed than ever before. He knew every word to his speech, he knew exactly how to behave, how to move, how to smile to win this once and for all and yet, beads of nervous sweat were forming on his forehead, his tie suddenly too constricting for his rapid breathing.

When Minerva waved a hand at him, he had no choice but to take his place at the center of the stage, even if he still hadn’t spotted you among the crowd. It was unlikely of you to be late. And even less likely that his driver would be late… The applause and cheers from his audience as he walked out from behind the black curtain almost made him forget about it all though. For a brief moment, he felt the adrenaline buzzing in his body, making him believe that he was capable of anything and proving yet again that his place was there, on stage, at the center of everyone’s admirative attention.

He smiled, waved, spotted a few influential people seating in the first rows and made sure to make eye contact with each of them as he started his speech. His best one.

But no matter how perfect his tone was, how carefully chosen his words were, the crowd slowly began to grow agitated. A few heads turned to take a look at the doors, some noise coming from behind them and before he could even fathom what had happened, an intense blow pushed him back, making his ears ring.

The loud explosion made the foundations of the ampitheater tremble, windows shattered, pieces of the ceiling came crushing to the ground but the chaos that followed was by far the scariest part. People screamed in terror, rushing in every direction to get out, pushing and stepping over each other with no decorum left, the crowd had turned into a bunch of frightened animals and they all were individually fighting for their lives.

A door was opened and a thick dark smoke rapidly filled the room, making everyone cough and scream louder. Coriolanus pulled his collar over his mouth and nose, trying to filter the smoke he’d inhale and retreated behind the black curtain, knowing there would be a door for him to escape much more easily there, out of the frenzy and chaos of the crowd.

He rushed to the back, fleeing by the concealed door while his people kept fighting to escape the suffocating smoke. He looked around, trying to get his thoughts back in order to come up with a plan, he needed to find a way to warn your driver about what had happened, so that he could avoid bringing you straight into danger. Better yet, he could drive you far away from it.

He walked in hurried steps while the people who had managed to escape ran away, the magnificent and imposing capitol building menacing to completely shatter and tumble down into dust. Leaving and reaching the street outside was the best course of action to ensure his safety, but a part of him with visibly no instinct of survival, remained determined to look around in search of a phone or whatever device he could use to warn you. To make sure you’d be safe.

He reached the front desk of the town hall, searching among the fallen bricks and thick layers of rubble with the hope to find something that would work to contact your driver…

Alastair ?

Coriolanus blinked a few times, stopping his frenetic search of the desk to stare at the silhouette running to the doors, recognizing the bald head and small frame of his driver.

“Alastair ?!” He called, as loud as he could to be heard above the distant screams and cries. The man turned around to look at him, fear appearing in his eyes when he recognized his boss… So he kept running.

Coriolanus took off after him, his tall legs giving him a clear advantage to catch up on the older man. He pushed him aside, grabbing him by his collar and slammed him against a dangerously unstable pillar.

“Where is my wife ?” He asked, leveling his face with his so that he could stare at him with his most menacing look.

“The rebels, they attacked… It was an explosion.” Alastair mumbled, inconherently. Coriolanus purposely slammed him against the hard surface again, hoping the shock it caused to his head would bring him back to his senses.

“WHERE IS MY WIFE ?!” He shouted, making it clear that if he had to ask again he might knock him unconscious instead.

“I don’t know, it exploded… The smoke… I ran.”

“You left her ?!” Your husband asked him, rage dangerously starting to take over at the realization that the one he had trusted with your security had so easily left you behind to save his own life.

“I have a family.” Alastair justified, his voice weakening and his breathing coming out raucous and labored. What was that supposed to mean ? That he was more important than you because he had children ? Was he implying that you didn’t deserve to live as much as he did because you hadn’t gave him a heir yet ?

Coriolanus’s gaze fell to his hands, the ones he was holding tightly around his driver’s neck, squeezing with all the strength of his rage. The older man started choking, tried to fight his employer off but he wasn’t strong enough and the shock of the whole situation didn’t help him think rationally enough to hope win this fight for his life.

Tighter.

Alastair’s face became alarmingly pale.

Tighter.

Alastair’s lips turned blue.

Tighter.

Alastair’s body dropped down on the floor.

Dead.

Coriolanus took a step back, watching the limp figure on the ground with clear disgust but he wasn’t sure if he felt it because Alastair had abandoned you or for himself, for adding someone else’s blood to his already stained hands.

There was no time to ponder his actions anyway. The judgment of his morals would have to wait until he found you and got you to safety. It was all that mattered. So, while people were still running out of the falling apart building, he ran back in, straight towards the thick smoke.

He called your name, so desperate to hear your voice answering him but the fleeing crowd was way too loud and agitated for him to hope hearing it and let it lead him to you. But he kept shouting anyway.

Some of his employees found him, tried to convince him to turn around and leave before the ceiling would collapse on him but he refused, determined to find you, even with the smoke burning his lungs and irritating his eyes.

His head was spinning, if the first people he had ran into were wearing their formal attire, slowly he started recognizing the red academy uniforms he used to wear every day. Then, he noticed the colors of a rainbow dress, fading in the thick smoke in front of him. A long time ago, the person wearing it had ran to him to save him from a similar situation, now she seemed to be running away, impossible for him to catch.

Was she the one who had led this violent attack against him ? And now she was here, running around the debris like an untouchable wild animal just to taunt him ? Of course she did. All she ever wanted was to end him. Ruin his life. Ruin everything.

Real or not, he followed her path, desperate to see where she would lead him. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him though, the feeling of being an eighteen years old boy who knew nothing about anything anymore. A naive man, who thought his survival depended on other people rather than on himself.

“Coryo…” Your voice called, answering his calls.

He perked up with a renewed determination to make his way through the smoke and find you. Rainbow colors and blood red uniforms faded from his vision. You were close, so he kept shouting your name, frantically searching around him until he collided against you.

He knew your body well enough by now to instantly recognize you, no one fitted in his arms the way you did. He looked down at you, trying to decipher wether you were injured or not but the dust covering your skin and hair made it hard to spot any trace of blood. He turned around, wanting to go back on his footsteps now that your hand was secured in his but he stopped when he noticed you could barely keep up, limping and coughing after each wince of pain that deformed your face.

Without a word, he came back to you and picked you up, carrying you in his arms even if his lungs were about to give up too. If he was going to die today, so be it but not before he got you out of there.

A plea for help resounded next to you, the barely visible shape of a woman stuck under a heavy pillar outstretching an arm in your direction, begging for her life. Coriolanus looked at her but kept walking, collateral damages were inevitable.

Finally, the smoke started dissipating, replaced by fresh air that burned your lungs in an entirely different way. A large crowd had formed in the street, kept at good distance from the collapsing building by peacekeepers. Many pairs of curious eyes turned to you, recognizing the presidential candidate heroically carrying his wife away from a vicious rebel attack. Some peacekeepers approached, freeing your husband’s arms to carry you to safety. They brought you to a medical tent that had been set up, where professionals and volunteers were running around, trying to care for the many injured and wounded victims.

An oxygen mask was placed on your face, providing you with the air you so desperately needed while a young woman tried to make you as comfortable as possible despite her apparent overwhelm.

“I’ll find some oxygen for you too, Sir.” She promised Coriolanus but he shook his head, refusing.

“Take care of my wife first.” He asked, and the woman nodded before scurrying away.

Time seemed to slow down as Coriolanus spent countless hours in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching over you, making sure you were taken well care of and mulling over his thirst for revenge. The rebels had crossed a line with this attack, they were clearly targeting him - and you - with it and that was simply unacceptable. His desire to become the new president of Panem was consuming him more than ever, thinking about the possibilities such a position would offer him to retaliate in kind against the districts. He could order the troops to bomb them, erase them from the map and the surface of the earth. He could decide of the fate of the very ones who committed the crime to try and kill him, he could set an example of what doom would be brought upon anyone who ever tried to hurt a Snow again… But he wasn’t president, yet.

However, his position as head gamemaker of the Hunger Games gave him quite a unique chance to keep the districts in check and remind them who truly held the power, after all, he had learned all the tricks from Doctor Gaul during the few years he had been working for her. He knew the only way to get his message to the rebels would be to answer in kind and make sure they’d know the fear of potentially loosing someone precious to them too…

A few days later, the doctors cleared you to go home so he decided to go back to his office and put his plan in motion.

As soon as he sat behind his desk, Minerva entered his office, holding a large file against her chest.

“I received the official report of the incident.” She announced, handing him the paper. He flipped the pages, brows furrowed and eyes rapidly darting across each paragraph.

“Twenty four deaths… And counting.” He read out loud.

“And I’m very sorry to tell you that I was informed that Alastair is among the victims.” She told him, which caused him to look at her, gravity etched on his face.

He had the perfect reaction. Not too emotional. Still professional. Believable.

“Do we know what happened to him exactly ?”

“The coroner said he died of asphyxiation from the smoke, like many others unfortunately.”

“It’s unfortunate indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, with a forced frown. “Make sure to send our condolences to his family.”

“Of course, Sir.” His assistant said, taking notes. “Anything else i can do ?”

“Yes… Call the press, I have an important announcement to make.” He stated, still more determined than ever to make everyone involved pay for what they did.

“And now, a message from Coriolanus Snow, head gamemaker of the Hunger Games and candidate for presidency.” The news anchor announced, as the camera zoomed in on your husband’s tired face, his brow furrowed and severity marking his traits.

“On Friday, people of the Capitol were the target of a terrible attack from an outlawed and violent group of radical people. We’ve lost precious lives and many of our citizens were gravely wounded during the attack.” Coriolanus spoke, solemnly, as the cameras shifted between different point of views of him. His voice was calm despite the rage displayed on his face. “Therefor, in retaliation, as head gamemaker, I have decided to make the 25th edition of the Hunger Games one that will remind everyone of the Capitol’s power… For this first quarter quell, each district will be required to send two boys and two girls into the arena.”

You watched your husband’s press conference on the television in the quiet and lonely living room of the manor, jaw dropping at his announcement. Was he taking advantage of the attack to give a lesson to the district, show his almighty power and advance his presidential campaign by gaining the Capitol’s support ? Or was he seeking out revenge for you ? Your chest tightened at the thought, could he care about you enough to be doing this for you ? Imagining you could be one of the reasons - among a thousand more important ones - for the punishment he decided to impose on the districts made your heart beat faster. With a husband so shy for words, a gesture like this one would speak volumes about how he truly felt.

You reached for the remote with a wince and turned the TV off, plunging the living room in darkness apart from the faint light coming from the crackling fire in the chimney. You stood with another wince, silently cursing at the doctors for sending you home without any meds to manage the pain you still felt so vividly in your body. If you had been a simple citizen, surely they would have kept you there longer, made sure that you were fully healed before letting you leave the private sector of the Capitol’s hospital but since the crowd of reporters, cameras and photographers was increasing with each passing day by the entrance of the hospital, they took the decision to send you home. Officially, it was meant to reassure Panem about the health of their potential future First Lady, show them you were as strong and courageous as your husband. But really, they just wanted to get rid of the public disturbing their other patients‘ peace.

You climbed the stairs leading to your bedroom slowly, and then sat at your vanity with a sigh. The reflection in front of you didn’t do justice to how you really felt. As soon as you had been discharged, a team invaded your room to make you look as flawless as you were always supposed to be, taking care of your hair, your makeup, your clothes, hiding any trace of the attack so that you could walk out, dazzling and smiling for the cameras. And of course you did just that. You managed to answer a few questions shouted at you with elegance and respect , offering sympathy to the ones who had suffered more than you did , smiling as some children handed you flowers and holding your head high just to let the rebels know that it would take more than this to bring Mrs Snow down.

But deep inside, you were a wreck. Images of the attack kept popping in your mind, you could still smell the smoke, feel it filling your lungs, suffocating you. You could still hear the screams, the cries, the shouts and the explosions. You could still feel the sharp pain in your shoulder when the column behind you collapsed and a heavy piece of marble hit you. You still had the bruises and the scratches on your skin from all the debris that flew in your face, even if they currently were hidden under a thick layer of makeup.

You slowly took it all off with a wipe, feeling almost relieved at the sight of the purple mark on your cheek and the other one on your neck, like a validation that you weren’t feeling so bad for nothing. You reached up to untie the sophisticated hairdo your beauty team had insisted on doing, but the sharp pain in your shoulder combined to the stiffness of your neck made it impossible to take more than two pins out before having to bring your arms down and take a deep breath to try and soothe the pain.

You had always considered yourself lucky to have such a big team of talented people to prepare you for every event you had to attend, sometimes they even got you ready and looking your best for simple shopping trips or private dinners if they expected you to be followed by reporters and photographers. But then, once the lights were out, the crowd long gone and the cameras pointed somewhere else, once you were back in the privacy and loneliness of your own home, then there wasn’t anyone to help you take off all this attire and help you be yourself again.

You were about to give up. At the moment, sleeping with twenty pins stabbing your scalp didn’t seem merely as painful as lifting your arm again did. But a movement in your mirror caught your attention. You lifted your eyes to the reflection, noticing a white silhouette, almost glowing in contrast to the darkness of your room, standing by the door, big blue eyes set on you.

You observed him quietly for a moment, unsure if he was really there or if it was yet another trick your mind was playing on you. Because you had a lot of visions of him lately. His face appearing in thick smoke. His voice shouting your name. His arms carrying you out of the chaos. His hand holding yours in the cold hospital room… You weren’t sure which memories were real or not. You couldn’t tell if he really had been by your side at the hospital this whole time or if you had just imagined his presence to reassure yourself. Were you imagining him there again so you wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely ?

“Let me help you with that.” He said, his tone softer than usual. He took the few steps in your direction, stopping behind you. You watched in the mirror as his fingers wandered in your hair in search of pins to take off, letting locks of hair fall down on your shoulders each time he removed one.

His touch was real. The heat you felt coming from his chest and radiating on your back was real. The expression of worry on his face every time he met your gaze in the reflection was real. He was real.

And instead of reassuring you like you thought it would, you suddenly felt invaded in your privacy to have him here, in your bedroom for the very first time. He shouldn’t see you like this, with your makeup off and your hair down, the bruises and the sorrow all too visible on your face. This wasn’t the image of the wife he had asked for. The wife who he wanted to impregnate. It was a pathetic reflection of a wounded and scared girl, wondering if she’ll ever be able to recover from such an horrific incident.

“I didn’t leave the hospital looking like this.” You felt compelled to say to justify how you looked in front of him, uncomfortable at the thought that it was the very first time he’d see you as you really were.

“I know, I watched the news from my office.” He simply said, focusing on finding the few last pins still tugging at your hair.

“And I watched your press conference.”

“What do you think about my idea for the quarter quell ?” His pale eyes found yours, silently gauging your reaction.

“I think a lot of people will love it, it’ll probably gain you many votes for the next round…”

“Probably but I meant what do you think about it ? Will it be a clear enough message to the districts that there will be hell to pay if they ever even think about hurting us again ?” He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Do you think all of Panem will now know that nobody hurts my wife without meeting the consequences ?”

You left out a breath, shocked by the rage you saw burning in his usually charming eyes. Either he was masterfully manipulative, wanting to make you believe that the decision he took to hold special games in retaliation was to avenge you, while it was, in fact, all about his career first. Either he really had done it for you, and the implications of such a revelation in regards to his true feelings for you were as terrifying to you as the first hypothesis was.

He remained quiet, removing his hands from your hair once he had pulled out the last pin and reached down to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down with his pale eyes fixed to yours in the mirror.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he trying to help you ? The zipper being in your back, you probably would have struggled to reach it, but the way he was taking care of it, so torturously slow, the tip of his fingers grazing the soft skin he revealed on his path made you question his true motives.

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your neck, exactly where your heart started pulsing wildly in reaction. He pulled the fabric of your dress down, until it pooled around your hips. You saw him take a look at your reflection in front of him, the sight of the bruise on your chest and the other one over your clavicle setting his fury ablaze. He balled his fists tightly, as if he was trying to contain himself so you turned around to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

You didn’t dare consider that the reason for his anger was because he cared about you enough… But the way he relaxed into your touch made you wonder if you should.

He kissed your lips. Softly. Gently. Almost reverently, as if he was taking the full measure of what he could have been deprived of for the rest of his life with a different outcome of the events of that night.

“I will kill them.” He declared, a cold determination in his tone you had never heard from him before. “I’ll kill every single person responsible for this.”

He moved his fingers over the purple bruise on your chest, a featherlight touch that still caused you a sting of pain, to mark his words.

You remembered a quote you had studied in school, it said something like “pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.” And, since it was written in your book and taught by your professor, you had always considered it to be true… Until now. Now you knew that there wasn’t anything else on earth that could possibly make you feel more alive than Coriolanus Snow and the way he kissed you, touched you and filled you up. And no pain would be able to stop your determination of feeling alive tonight. Maybe his way to cope from the attack was to hunger for violence and blood, but yours was to live.

You leaned towards him and kissed him with more fervor than he did. He returned the kiss but kept some restraint from the usually hungry and rough way you were used to having him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, against your lips. “Not when you’re hurt and still recovering.”

“I’m not made of sugar.” You assured him, with a soft smile but he didn’t return it, moving away to look at you like he had seen a ghost. Did he have flashbacks of the attack too ? Or something else ? He’d probably never tell you anyway, because he shook it off before you could open your mouth and ask him if he was alright, worry leaving its place to resolve on his face.

He walked to your bed, stopping at the edge and scanning your nightstand carefully as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he looked around, his eyes taking a moment to consider each object, each piece of decoration in your bedroom. It was the first time he entered it and although the way he threw his shirt on the floor and began unfastening his belt suggested he had other plans than simply asking you for a tour, he still took in most of the details of the only place where you could find privacy in your own home.

You stood up, removing your dress too and feeling suddenly very exposed to him. Your room, your face without makeup, your hair undone, your bruised skin, everything you usually kept hidden from your husband was now on display for him to see and you felt self conscious about it.

“Lie down.” Coriolanus demanded, kicking his pants off, leaving him with nothing on but his bare body for you to stare at, his skin almost as white as the suits he liked to wear.

You obeyed, climbing on the bed from the opposite side from where he stood. You let your head fall down on your fluffy pillow, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed how the many aches in your body were appeased by the comfortable mattress under you.

He climbed on the bed next to you and it felt somewhat strange to see him there, in your room, on your sheets, naked. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and gently pulled them down your legs, the lace fabric sending shiver down your spine on its way down your body.

He spread your legs open for him, and placed himself between them, sitting back on his knees. He looked at your bruises again so, instinctively, you tried to hide them with your arms and hands in fear that he might change his mind and leave you wanting. Thankfully, he had mercy for you and, even though he didnt seem quite sure about how to proceed this time - as if he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to tame his usual roughness - he slowly stroked the tip of his cock between your folds.

He guided it in circles, teasing your entrance every once in a while, pressing over your bud, spreading your growing wetness all over in its wake and you noticed how it made him harden too, his cock increasing in length and girth in his hand with each movement.

It didn’t take long for either of you to be ready for more. After all, it had been a whole week during which the only physical contacts you had shared was him holding your hand at the hospital or placing a chaste kiss on your forehead each time he had to leave you for a while, and that was if you hadn’t dreamed or imagined it.

No longer able to tease you, he ended up pushing his erected member inside you, finding its way in so easily it felt like you were made to fit him by now. He noticed it too, how easy it was for him to bury himself all the way in you until his balls were squeezed between your bodies and he sighed with contempt as your warm and wet pussy engulfed him fully.

You said his name in a panted breath, loving the way he filled you up with his hard cock and his eyes darted to yours, his gaze shining with lust. He moved, starting with short slides back and forth to make sure you could take it then, once he saw you close your eyes and bite your lip to conceal a moan, he got a bit rougher and faster, shoving himself back in with enough force to make the bed crack loudly.

“Yes!” You cried, as you felt his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot so deep inside you, sending such pleasure through your entire body that you already felt close to coming undone. If there was any pain in your bruised body, you didn’t feel it anymore. All your mind could focus on was the intensity of his thrusts inside of you and the ecstasy building in your core in reaction.

He moved to hover over you, the change of angle making his strong movements even more intense. A moan fell from your lips but he silenced it with a hungry kiss, his taut chest pressing against yours.

He gathered you in his arms, holding your body tightly against his as he kept relentlessly thrusting inside you, swallowing all the moans that escaped from your lips with his desperate kisses.

You closed your legs around his hips, holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to you. His thrusts lost their speed and intensity, but he still hit exactly where you needed him, making you whimper and moan with pleasure. His grip tightened and so did yours, both of you determined to never let each other go, him holding you like you might vanish at any moment and you holding him like your life depended on it.

He groaned, spilling his seed inside you with one powerful push. You dug your nails in his back, as his movements slowed down and your body contracted, your mind swimming in bliss.

He was panting, from his efforts and from the feverish kisses he kept giving you through it all. And yet he captured your lips with his again, in a much softer - almost loving - kiss. Then he set you free from his embrace, rolling on his side next to you and you istantly felt cold without the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.

You shivered and he noticed, pulling the sheet over your numb body. You looked at him, wondering if he’ll stay the night. It would be the very first time you’d get to sleep with your husband. If the idea would have been dreadful to you just a year ago, now you wanted nothing more than to press your spent body against his and feel his presence as you drift off to sleep, knowing that you are safe with him by your side.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow Masterlist

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬

Prologue

Cold (one-shot)

All The Rumors are True (or are they?) (one-shot)

A Night on the Town (one-shot)

New Year, Same Problems (one-shot)

Chapter 1: The Reaping

Chapter 2: First Blood

Chapter 3: Dropping Like Flies

Chapter 4: Death and Destruction

Chapter 5: Let the Games Begin

Chapter 6: The Victor’s Defeat

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Chapter 7: Reincarnation

Chapter 8: Chills

Chapter 9: The Calm Before the Snowstorm

Chapter 10: The Rise of a King

Chapter 11: The Fall of a Queen

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Chapter 12: Out With the Old

Chapter 13: In With The New

Chapter 14: Erasure

Chapter 15: Blossoming “Love”

Chapter 16: Unraveling

Chapter 17: Power Struggle

Chapter 18: The Chase

Chapter 19: Fixed

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛

Chapter 20: Bound

Chapter 21: Rising

[sirenologyyy]

EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT LOVE !

୨ৎ summary : wherein singer!reader books her next role in the ballad of songbirds and snakes after starring in the third highest-grossing movie of all time called avatar: the way of water, and falls for the bad guy... of course

୨ৎ warnings : cussing, that's pretty much it HEHEEHEH

୨ৎ author's note : YA'LL I've never seen laufey as a faceclaim in these before she's gorgeous. Also, your character in atwow is named Magnolia Quaritch, you're in Daisy Jones and The Six as a Jazz singer named Vienna Cartwright and a character in House of The Dragon named Theadosia Baratheon.

yourusername

tagged: @/jamieflatters @/baileybass @/jackchampion

liked by rachelzegler, sukiwaterhouse, hunterschafer, baileybass, jackchampion, livkatecooke and 176,987 others

yourusername the sexy skxawngs are SO back 🤩🙏🔥

view comments

jackchampion DUDEEE YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GUNNA POST THAT PIC OF ME

⤷ yourusername obviously I lied

user1 NAWW YA'LL ARE SO CUTE

user2 OMGGG your boots are giving

user3 average brother and sister dynamic

user4 HELLO DON'T TELL ME Y/N AND JACK PLAY SIBLINGS IN AVATAR????

⤷ user3 HELP yeah they do they're quaritch's kids and they're stepsiblings, y/n's character is named magnolia she was born on pandora like three or four years before spider was

⤷ user4 they barely look alike HELP

⤷ jackchampion no because we keep saying that too

⤷ yourusername @/slang_711 your response 🎤🎤🎤

user4 naw HAHAAHAHA

rachelzegler YA'LL ARE SO CUTEEE

⤷ yourusername MWAH

jamieflatters what is that picture of me

⤷ yourusername my finger slipped

⤷ jamieflatters this is an injustice

⤷ yourusername mb I'm sorry

⤷ jamieflatters you know you aren't

baileybass no because that day in london was so fun omggg

yourusername especially when it started raining and we all were just running around like headless chickens and we took cover inside that empty ambulance

⤷ jackchampion and then I totally didn't fall getting out

⤷ baileybass lies

⤷ yourusername falsehoods

⤷ jamieflatters these people deserve the truth jackson

user5 UGH y/n's so pretty I wish she was real :/

user1 frl I wish pretty people were real

user6 jack eating dino nuggies and mac and cheese with a coke sends me

⤷yourusername I have a folder on my phone with 18 seperate photos of jack eating the same meal over the course of filming atwow

⤷ jackchampion WHAT???

⤷ yourusername my lil bro 😔

⤷ user6 PUAHAAHAGAHSHS

⤷ jackchampion girl bye I'm literally 6 feet tall

⤷ yourusername nobody asked jack

⤷ jamieflatters yeah jack

ayoedibiri I miss you 😔

⤷ yourusername I miss YOU

user7 MAGNOLIA QUARITCH 🔛🔝

user8 if magnolia quaritch has a million fans I'm one of them, if she has a hundred fans I'm one of them, if she had 0 fans I'm DEAD

hunterschafer looking tew good babes x

⤷ yourusername ure too kind 🫡 🫶

user9 HELPPP BECAUSE JAMIE'S FACE IN THE BEGGINING

⤷ yourusername he tried gochujang for the first time

⤷ jackchampion top 10 worst anime fails

user7 I think you cropped me outta some of these babes 💋

user8 imagine breathing the same air as y/n y/l/n is rn like I cannot imagine 😔

user10 y/n what's ur favorite hot wheels car

user11 come home the kids miss you 😔

user12 can magnolia come and dissect me like that bladder polyp 30 minutes into the movie

yourusername

tagged: @/lionsgate

liked by rachelzegler, hunterschafer, jackchampion, tomblyth, joshandresrivera, oliviarodrigo and 500, 975 others

yourusername show our girl mira sage baird some love, the ballad of songbirds and snakes out now November 17th!

view comments

user1 STOP STOP STOP

user2 THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY SHE'S PLAYING MIRA SAGE

rachelzegler welcome to the rodeo big sis 🎹🎶✨️

⤷ yourusername let's fcking do this thing

user3 im literally screaming crying and throwing up right now OMFG RACHEL JUST CALLED Y/N BIG SIS

user4 STOP BCS I just finished reading tbosas yesterday

user5 OH MY FUCKING GOD MIRA PLAYING THE PIANOOOO

user6 these stills are everything to me

jackchampion SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU 🙌

⤷ yourusername #1 WINGMAN FRL 💯

user7 her first freaking role was literally playing stephen lang's daughter in a james cameron film, then immediately booking the role of serafyna freaking baratheon in house of the dragon, then playing a jazz singer in daisy jones and the six, NOW SHE'S IN THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES???

user8 no one's doing it like her frl

user1 "OUR GIRL MIRA SAGE BAIRD" WHAT IF I START SOBBING

user5 like hello I'm never getting over this tf 😭💔💔💔

user3 Y/N Y/L/N THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

tomblyth hey nightingale

⤷ yourusername wsp gent

user9 OH MY FUCKING GOD NO ONE TALK TO ME RIGHT NOWWWWWWW

⤷ user3 DID THEY JUST CALL EACHOTHER BY THEIR NICKNAMES OH LORD

user5 they saw an opportunity and took it

ashleyjliao oh ya'll are not READYYYY

user11 TOM BLYTH AND Y/N Y/L/N NATION RISE

user8 IM LITERALLY SCREAMING RIGHT NOW HOLY SHITTTTTTTT??@@?@?!!?!,#*#(

⤷ user1 someone time this exact moment these two made frickin history tonight

⤷ user6 I'm so glad I stayed up for this holy shit

⤷ user8 it's literally 5:39 am for me rn I literally have to defend a thesis in 3 hours and I am wide awake bouncing around my dorm

⤷ yourusername oh babes get some sleep 😭 (good luck on your thesis btw you're gunna kill it! 💓)

⤷ user8 IM GOING TO BED RN MISS MA'AM 🫡

⤷ user10 replying to user8 NAW GIRL I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE REPLIED TO YOU

⤷ user8 replying to user10 IT CAN ONLY GO DOWNHILL FROM HERE DUDE

user7 I WILL NEVER FORGET THIS MOMENT OMFGDYDHDU

baileybass can't wait 🤍

⤷ yourusername I love you so much bai bai 🫶🏼

user12 oh my FUCK is that the scene where sejanus and mira have that conversation outside the hob???

⤷ user9 OH THERE'S NO WAY

⤷ user13 STOP WE'RE FINALLY GETTING THE "you're everything I could ever have wanted" SCENE

⤷user9 AAAAAAAAA I CAN'T WAIT OH MY GOD?!?!?

⤷ user6 UGHDGDFC MY SEJMIRA HEARTTTTTTT 😭💗

⤷ user3 I apologise for the person I will become once I see Sejanus and Mira at my local theatre

⤷ hunterschafer me neither

⤷ user3 HUNTER'S A SEJMIRA SHIPPER CONFIRMED?????

⤷ user6 hunter I love you

⤷user3 HUNTER SHIPS SEJMIRA YA'LL HEARD IT HERE FIRST 🗣🗣🗣

⤷user12 NO BECAUSE IF WE'RE GETTING THE HOB SCENE THEN THE CLIFF SCENE IS 3 DAYS AFTER...

⤷user13 oh...

⤷ user1 I DON'T THINK I WILL SURVIVE THIS

⤷ user2 yeah and neither does-

⤷ user8 NAWWW STFU @/user2

⤷user12 don't even go there @/user2

⤷user10 GET THE HELL OUT @/user2

⤷ user10 DONT EVEN CONTINUE THAT SENTENCE @/user2

joshandresrivera prepare to have your knocks socked off

⤷yourusername oh they dunno what's COMING

⤷ rachelzegler stop because tell me why I was sobbing even more than you were while you were performing mira sage's song 😭

⤷ yourusername we were inconsolable that day 😭😭😭 i think even Tom was tearing up too

⤷ tomblyth no you're wrong there was a busted pipe above my spot it kept leaking into my eye

⤷yourusername sure honey.

user14 NAWWWW ☝️☝️☝️

user15 someone check up on tom if he's still breathing cuz if y/n fucking y/l/n ever called me honey I'd be GONEEEEEEE

user16 @/tomblyth are u alright pal

⤷ joshandresrivera his eyes were literally irritated when I looked at him during our first initial take

⤷tomblyth nice going josh

⤷ yourusername rachel never let him go

⤷ rachelzegler duly noted

user17 y/n y/l/n as mira sage baird oh someone up there is looking out for me frl

rachelzegler

tagged: @/yourusername

liked by yourusername, tomblyth, joshandresrivera, hunterschafer and 168, 753 others

rachelzegler new york, new york - Frank Ocean

view comments

joshandresrivera alright I see how it is

⤷ rachelzegler it's not you, it's me?

yourusername I'm coming after your entire career Joshua

tomblyth I asked if you wanted to go hang out in new york with me and you told me you were busy?

⤷ yourusername but I was 😁

⤷ rachelzegler get in line blyth

⤷ tomblyth I'm devastated, truly

⤷ yourusername it's not my fault I'm incredibly sought after, I'm sorry Tom

⤷ hunterschafer go tell 'em honey!!!

⤷ yourusername better luck next time @/tomblyth

⤷ tomblyth there's still a next time?

⤷yourusername For you? Always

⤷tomblyth I'm the luckiest man alive, I feel like I'm going to soar out of my flat any minute now, maybe do somersaults in the sky I'm not sure, we'll see.

yourusername liked this comment

user1 not Tom Blyth being down bad

user2 HELLO??? TOM???

user3 why do they sound so flirty wtf...

user4 dosen't Tom have a gf HELPPPP

user5 I don't think it's confirmed

⤷ user4 it better not be cuz why am I kinda eating this up

user6 NO BCS SAME ADFSDGSJSSHZ

lionsgate our favorite sister duo 💕

⤷ yourusername iktr 🙏

⤷ rachelzegler this is a WIN

user7 OH WE NEED THOSE DIGICAM PICS RNNNN

user8 @/yourusername LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN ‼️‼️‼️

user9 Y/N AND RACHEL IN NEW YORK Y/N AND RACHEL IN NEW YORK Y/N AND RACHEL IN NEW YORK

user10 THERE'S NO WAY I WAS 5 MINS AWAY FROM THAT RESTAURANT AND DIDN'T GO THERE 😭😭😭

user11 y/n l/n and rachel zegler my bestfriends

user12 HELP THE TEXT WITH Y/N AND RACHEL IM CREASING

⤷ user11 IKR THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS

⤷ user10 I wonder if she actually got the Lucy Gray barbie

⤷ yourusername everywhere we went it was sold out 😭

⤷ user12 NAHHH QUEEN YOU DESERVE SM BETTER

user3 @/tomblyth you might wanna get onto that

⤷ user5 @/tomblyth GET THIS GIRL HER LUCY GRAY BARBIE

⤷ user4 @/tomblyth YK WHAT TO DO

user14 HAHAHAAYAH NOT YA'LL TAGGING HIMMM 😭😭😭

user15 I know Y/N was mourning for that spilt coffee

⤷ rachelzegler OH YOU BEST BELIEVE SHE WAS DISTRAUGHT

user16 and they were thrifting too UGH I wanna be able to go thrifting with y/n and rachel

⤷ user14 I wonder who got those cowboy boots

⤷yourusername actually we both saw it at the same time but I ended up giving it to Rachel because I'm a wonderful person! (and we totally didn't fight over it inside goodwill!)

rachelzegler 😭😭😭

tomblyth

tagged: @/joshandresrivera @/rachelzegler @/yourusername see more...

liked by yourusername, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, ashleyjliao, hirokiberrecloth and 268, 836 others

tomblyth HG film dump. We had our flaky croissants, our chewy croissants, but alas, not one croissant on earth could live up to these beautiful people. teebosass coming to theaters near you. ❄️❄️❄️

rachelzegler FIRST!!!

rachelzegler ugh blyth you sap

⤷ tomblyth what can I say

ashleyjliao 🥐🥐🥐

yourusername that cucumber salad did not taste as good as you manipulated me into believing

⤷ tomblyth hey you could use the vitamin K, you're welcome ❤️

⤷ yourusername this is what playing a pre tyrannical president of a dystopian world does to you kids

user1 yes mom 🫡

user1 AWWW THE GROUP PIC OF ALL THE MENTORS 🥹🥹🥹

⤷ user2 I'm abt to sob

user3 so excited OMGGG

user2 YA'LL THE CABIN SCENE I WILL NEVER RECOVER...

user4 sofia crying makes me wanna cry too wtf

user5 the tributes and mentors aww

⤷ user3 I'm having that picture framed and put on a pedestal

user6 Y/N getting her own picture is so cute 🫶

user7 holy shit ur right

⤷ user2 replying to user6 she literally got a single picture all to herself while the others were with someone else on every photo

⤷ user8 CHAT WHAT IS GOING AWNNN

user8 no because y/n having her own picture meanwhile everyone else had to share the spotlight is making me think thoughts...

user9 oh twitter's about to blow up and second now

user10 @/y/nsidehoe on twt 🔥🔥🔥

user11 you were amazing in Billy the Kid!

user12 RACHEL IS SO POOKIEEEE

user13 these photos are so well shot though

user14 the tributes all hugging eachother ugh MY HEART

user15 josh's posture is cracking me tf up 😭

⤷ user10 BWHAHAGSSJAJSSJS

user16 10 MINUTES AGK HOLY SHITTTT

user17 y/n's face though HELP ME

user18 Y/N NATION HOW TF ARE WE FEELING???

user19 I don't even wanna speculate anything atp remember what happened to her and Charles Leclerc?

user17 oh NAWWW they were definitely a thing, did you SEE those yacht pics?

user10 it was a shame they never confirmed it though they were so cute 😔

user20 YALL dosen't tom have a gf???

⤷ user18 nothing's confirmed, pretty sure he said him and the girl were good friends in an article somewhere LMFAO

⤷ user8 omg link

⤷ user13 (2)

⤷ user18 hold on dms

user21 josh and rachel have my heart fssss 🫶

user22 y/n nation boutta start shipping them I'm frl calling it

user23 it'll be gone in a week or so then she'll hop onto the next male lead in her next film

⤷ user22 HAAHAHA SHUDDUPPP

⤷ user23 for promo ✨️

⤷ user24 she's doing smth to these men I swear, spiking their drinks, keeping voodoo dolls of em or sumn

⤷ user23 WAIT STOP AHAHSHSAH

[blythings]

Tom blyth birthday smut if you can?

it's the 2nd of feb in australia so hbd to the loml!! thank you for sending me this req anon, perfect timing with this one 💞 this is super self-indulgent since the reader is a corporate girlie like me. also this is unedited and super rushed but hope you enjoy anyway!!!

CAKE | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x fem!reader — summary: when the birthday cake you had planned to make for your boyfriend doesn't go according to plan, he comes up with an alternative gift to salvage the celeberation. — content: mdni, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, very minimal dirty talk —word count: 958 words

requests are open for tom and his characters!~

As Tom steps into your shared apartment, he’s greeted by the inviting aroma of rich chocolate, tinged with the simultaneous smell of something burning, which only intensifies with each step he takes.

He calls out your name as he leans against the entry into the kitchen. It’s two pm on a Friday afternoon — normally, you would still be at your office during this time, fending off the mid-afternoon fatigue by drinking too many cans of Coke Zero and texting him some of the ridiculous items that would land in your inbox. 

That said, it doesn’t take two seconds for him to know why you would be home so early. You had been apologetic all week about not having enough time to plan something more elaborate for his birthday and while he had tried to reassure you, he still sensed the faint trace of guilt behind your expression.

At the sound of his voice, you look up from the mixing bowl, filled with a chocolatey concoction. “You’re home early,” you say — ironically — before you return to mixing, your frustrations from the week seemingly being beaten into the side of the bowl. You had rolled up the sleeves of your blouse though powdered sugar still dusts the fabric. There is a brown lump by the sink that Tom can only assume had been your first attempt at baking a cake, and the reason why his kitchen smells like a hazard site at that moment.

He pads over and wraps his arms around your frame. He asks, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

You sigh, your shoulders sagging. “I had to at least get you a cake,” you answer, “and I didn’t want to just grab one after work. I’m gonna make you a cake even if it kills me.”

“It looks like it might.” Tom mumbles under his breath, kissing the side of your head.

It isn’t like you didn’t have plans for his birthday during the weekend. But between Tom’s acting career taking off and your own job picking back up after the holiday break, the chaos that had followed is enough to eat away at your time and energy. You had been too caught up in work to plan anything special. You recall Tom’s words, his easy-going reassurance that he didn’t mind if you had a more lowkey celebration that year. Even so, guilt had been gnawing at your insides all week, fueled by the knowledge that you haven’t been as attentive since you had returned to work. 

But as the two of you stand in your cluttered kitchen, it is obvious that you might’ve miscalculated your own culinary ineptitude.

“I even got this stupid cake mold for this.” You huff, lifting the heart shaped cake mold that you had picked up on your way home. “But even when I try to read the recipe, I’m not getting it right. It’s stressing me out.”

He kisses your cheek. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t want you stressing over this. We can just buy a cake from the bakery. I assume you don’t have to go back and finish any work, right?”

You shake your head. “I said there was an emergency.”

“Tell your work that something was burning. That way, you wouldn’t be lying.”

“Clever.”

“I have my moments.” He says, trailing his lips down the side of your neck. A hand trails lower and you drop the spatula into the mixing bowl as he turns you around, his mouth slotting against yours. 

You’re prepared for his kiss, the years you’ve been together bringing about a level of ease that you’ve never had with any of your previous partners. He moves the mixing bowl to the side, lifting you up to rest on top of the counter. You scrunch your nose at the thought of having to do a deep clean of the kitchen later in the afternoon.

But your thoughts don’t stray from Tom for too long as he licks into your mouth. His hand moves down to your knee, tugging your legs open as sinks to the floor between your spread thighs.

“Still wanna give me something sweet?” He murmurs, pushing the hem of your skirt up. You can only offer a nod as he loops his fingers around the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your legs.

“I should be the one who — ” You start to say but he shakes his head, running two fingers up your throbbing core. 

“Couldn’t even get me a proper cake,” He cuts you off, teasing, “let me taste you instead.”

You’re about to reply before he’s burying his mouth between your thighs, your mouth releasing a string of whimpers and gasps as he mouths over your clit. You cry out in pleasure as he begins nudging your bud around his tongue, his eyes watching your reactions intently. He pulls away with a lewd pop, leaning back. “This cunt is mine, isn’t it?” He asks, placing a kiss on your inner thigh. You want to bask in his touches, but the drag of his fingers and the feel of his lips sets your body ablaze.

His fingers trail down your slit before he slips two digits deep into you. You cry out when he shoves his fingers deeper inside, a warning for you. “Yours,” you manage to choke out.

Your thighs quiver around him as you cry out his name, the tightness in your belly snapping apart as your body spasms from your orgasm. 

“That was fast.” He teases you, chuckling as you push him off your thighs. “Want me to help you clean all of this up?” He asks as he gestures around the kitchen, and you shake your head.

“Later. We’ve got a birthday to celebrate.”

[mrs5sn0w]

Serenade of Shadows

I : A Dance of Shadows -> II : Whisper of Deceit -> A Symphony of Heartbreak-> IV : Fractured Reflections -> V : Shadows of Allegiance -> VI : Echoes of Decent

Series Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

warnings: Arranged marriage, MILD ANGST, unrequited love, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers

Reader's surname : Flare

Time frame : Before, during and after tbosbas

synopsis: In the events of Panem's political dynamics and the 10th annual Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow and her find themselves entwined. Standing at the brink of an enforced union, 6 years later, their mutual trust unravels amidst a damaging misinterpretation, prompting Coriolanus to believe the wrong. As the glacial barriers guarding his emotions begin to melt, a revelation of profound feelings unfolds, initiating a sprint against time for redemption.

The grandeur of the Capitol unfolded like a tapestry of opulence on the day Coriolanus Snow and her were bound in matrimony. The air was heavy with the scent of roses, and the opulent venue shimmered in the soft glow of chandeliers. The Capitol's elite had gathered to witness the union of the President of Panem and the Flare family, one of the most prestigious families in the whole Panem, their wedding was a spectacle that rivaled the most extravagant of royal weddings.

As she walked down the aisle in her resplendent gown, a vision of ethereal beauty, the weight of the ornate veil seemed to mirror the heavy burden on her heart. Coriolanus, standing at the altar in a meticulously tailored suit, wore a mask of composure that hid the turbulent emotions within.

He did not want to be there. He does not want to marry her.

The ceremony unfolded like a symphony of obligations, the vows echoing through the grand hall as if scripted by Capitol decree. Her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, met with his cold and indifferent eyes. The congregation, unaware of the loveless undertones, erupted in applause as the Capitol celebrated the union of the two.

As the reception commenced, Snow and her navigated the intricate dance of social formalities. In front of the Capitol's watchful eyes, they exchanged pleasantries and smiled for the cameras, their every move orchestrated like pieces on a strategic board.

In a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes, she summoned a smile that barely concealed the turmoil within.

"Corio-"

"It's Snow." He reminded her not to call him by what she called him years ago.

"Snow, we are the talk of the Capitol today," she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

He nodded curtly, his gaze fixed on the swirling dancers. "It's expected. our union of significance, a merging of legacies."

A fragile smile played on her lips while Coriolanus' eyes remained impassive, a fortress against the vulnerability she tried to breach.

"Sentimentality has no place in our world. Our duty is to uphold the Capitol's ideals. I'm just doing my duty by marrying you."

He then continued

"Don't get ahead of yourself if you think you can have a chance. Everyone may have forgotten what you did, but not me."

"Cor- Snow, I did what I had to do, to protect you-"

"protect me ?" He scoffed

"The only protection you did was throw my future away"

"But you're here now" she argued

"You still did it to me. It will never change." he demanded

He still believes that she did it.

but until this very day, he did not know the whole truth of what she did.

As the night wore on, the facade of marital bliss cracked in the shadows. She resplendent in her gown, felt the weight of isolation. She approached Coriolanus with a delicate grace, her eyes seeking a connection amidst the artifice.

The reception continued, a lavish display of decadence, but in the hidden recesses of their shared existence, the echoes of unspoken pain reverberated. She was once Coriolanus Snow's closest classmates, and she found herself as a stranger in his indifferent world.

"Snow," she began, her voice tinged with both sadness and defiance,

"do you ever wonder what our lives could have been if things were different?"

He looked at her, the coldness in his eyes softened by the moon's gentle caress. "Wondering is a futile endeavor. Our reality is the only truth we know."

"The only thing i wished to be different is that I didn't have to marry someone like you"

"Anyone but you"

Before she could respond, the distant strains of music heralded their return to the festivities. The grandeur of their wedding, an illusion of splendor, concealed the fractured emotions beneath the surface.

As the night waned and the Capitol reveled in the spectacle, Coriolanus Snow and his wife danced through the shadows of their union, a poignant duet of obligation and unspoken regret.

Snow's wife would always remember this day as the day she gave her life up to be stuck in a loveless marriage.

It didn't matter to her, as long as she was married to the person she loves even when he hates her with every beat of his heart.

[lady-snowbl00d]

Coriolanus Snow being creepy and touchy as you sleep at your desk. Young Pres Snow or Head Gamemaker; can be read as either.

This is actually an upcoming chapter for a Snow x OC fic I'm writing, but I rewrote this version for it to be Snow x female reader/Y/N so anyone can enjoy. This is NOT SMUT, just very mildly suggestive.

...

He shut off the light, exited his office. It had been a tiring day. As he started to make his exit, past a small hallway, he saw you asleep at your desk. There was no one else but him and you here.

The others had left for the day but you had apparently overworked yourself. True to what he asked of you. To do better. In truth, you were a hard worker, Coriolanus thought, but it was always a good idea to push one's best assets. And it wouldn't hurt to see what made you tick.

Briefly he thought of waking you to scold you, but he didn't dare. He found himself approaching you slowly so as not to wake you. You looked so relaxed and peaceful, it would be a sin to wake you, he thought. Your arms were folded beside the keyboard, nesting your face. You were resting on your left, so the right side of your face and neck were exposed, only covered slightly by the hair falling into your face.

Testing the waters, he slowly slid the notebook which was halfway tucked under your arm. To his delight, you didn't move. He carelessly looked through it, then shut it closed and placed it next to you. You remained still and asleep. He grew bolder then.

He ran the lock of hair by your face between his index and middle finger, reveling in its texture. Then he tucked it behind your ear, and gently tucked the rest over your shoulder. He heard your sharp intake of breath then, but you didn't stir otherwise.

His eyes wandered to your neck, collarbone and the first button of your blouse, then to your lips. Curious to see how much he could get away with, he gently placed his thumb on your jaw and caressed it. Then he traced a line down the side of your neck and swiped your collarbone, the skin there warm and welcoming.

He wondered what soap you used, if you used lotion on your skin. He leaned in just inches from the side of your neck, before closing his eyes and inhaling the scent - something like flowers and mint.

He wasn't sure where he was going with this or why he even started. He lowered his eyes to the first button on your blouse again wondering if you would notice...

When he reached for it, you let out a sound like a small moan, and your brows were furrowed and upset, dimpling at the sides. Coriolanus smirked and retreated immediately before you opened your eyes. He folded his arms behind his back as he stood up straight, watching you stretch slightly and sit up, still awakening.

"God...what time is it..." you said to yourself, rubbing your temples.

"It's 7," he said, raising his eyebrows. "P.m."

You obviously had just come to terms with his presence. You stilled a moment in surprise but recovered quickly, adjusting your clothes.

"Sorry. I don't know what happened," you mumbled, rushing to gather your things. "I'll be out of your way, Mr. Snow."

"It's alright. Do you need a ride home?"

"No, thank you," you smiled at him, taking in his handsome but somewhat uncanny polished appearance.

"Are you sure?"

You nodded.

"Goodnight, Mr. Snow."

That day you left with the sickest feeling of wanting to be touched. And it didn't help that the last person you had seen was him. You weren't sure why he even affected you so much. You shrugged it off and took a cold shower, and tried to distract yourself from it the rest of the night.

[evielmostdefinitely]

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.

[konohokelly]

Virgin!Sejanus x Virgin!Reader (dry humping)

where you watch a dirty movie together and get so horny and turned on, but you’re saving yourselves for marriage.

So you both strip down to your underwear and dry hump till kingdom comes, imagining doing the real thing.

Sejanus is slamming his clothed cock against your pussy, rubbing against your clit so hard you would be chaffed if not for the wetness soaking through your panties, staining the front of his boxers.

You both end up collapsed on the bed, sweaty and needing to change your underwear.

[thecharacterchronicler]

Playing With Fire (Part 1) || Coriolanus Snow || Smut

Outline: Coriolanus is forced to work on an assignment with a classmate but, while alone in her bedroom, he finds something interesting in her drawers and requests a demo.

Word count: 4’700

Warnings: mostly unhinged, explicit and shameless smut.

Author’s note: this is prompt 20 from my list, it was meant to be written as a one shot but not only am I not capable of writing short stories when it comes to Coriolanus Snow, I also happen to be absolutely incapable of not making it a series so there is a part 2 to this! 🖤

(( Part 2 ))

It had to be her.

Their professor had decided to pair up his students himself for once, forcing Coriolanus to work with her instead of Clemensia, like he usually did. He was fairly certain that it was a provocation from his professor, a way of getting him to drop from his position as top of his class, or maybe just a twisted experiment meant to amuse him, who knew ? But one thing Coriolanus knew for sure was that he wasn’t amused at all to be walking through the city to go to her house after class, there wasn’t many people he didn’t get along with but she was a rare exception.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, if anything, he didn’t care much about her at all, they didn’t hang out with the same people, nor did they have anything in common to discuss so they basically were strangers to each other.

No, what actually made him despite the fact that he had been paired up with her was that she was one of those self righteous people who had strong opinions when it came to the morality of the Hunger Games. Maybe it was because she used to live in the districts before her wealthy parents moved back to the Capitol ?

For some reason, she couldn’t help but be very vocal about the way the Capitol treated the districts, as if they hadn’t attacked them first and caused such chaos! For Coriolanus, the things she sometimes said in class were close to being considered treason and he couldn’t understand how such a wealthy and powerful heiress could ruin her reputation for a question of dubious morales…

Coriolanus stopped in front of the imposing gates of a luxurious manor, in the nicest part of the city. The garden surrounding the modern building was lush and green, contrasting with the gray of the city in the horizon and the burnt grass of less cared for gardens in the neighborhood. He shook his head, still finding it quite unfair that she had been blessed with such wealth and luxury when he had spent so many years having barely anything to eat on his plate.

He rang at the gate and announced himself through a microphone. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure he’d be allowed in, the security around the manor seemingly high and strict. But the gates finally opened for him and he walked towards the main doors, ready to press another button to announce his arrival but they opened before he was able to, revealing a middle aged woman, in designer clothes, excitedly smiling at him.

“Coriolanus Snow, is it ?” She purred, eyeing the university student from head to toe, punctuating her analysis with a discreet nod of approval. “I was told you’re here to see my daughter ? What does the son of the legendary Crassus Snow wants from her ?”

“I’m here to work on a project with her. For class.” He clarified, with a charming smile that seemed to make her melt.

If at first he thought she was interrogating him on his intentions because she was worried, he now realized that the disappointment on her face could only mean that she was hoping for another answer. Perhaps she believed that he was here to court her daughter ? …What a ridiculous idea.

“Oh, of course, my sweet girl is such a dedicated student.” She replied, nodding at herself. “She’s brilliant isn’t she ? So outspoken and smart. I’m often told that she’ll make a wonderful wife when the times comes…”

She looked at him, waiting for some kind of response but he wasn’t sure of what to say.

“You’re late.” The familiar voice of his classmate stated, coming from the imposing double staircase in the hallway behind the silhouette of her mother, still blocking Coriolanus at the door.

He would have almost felt relieved to hear her if he didn’t hate everything about her.

“My apologies, our driver was sick and needed to go home so I walked.” He lied, making the mother gasp in horror while the daughter simply rolled her eyes.

“My goodness, you walked ?! In such scorching heat ?” She exclaimed, looking as if she was about to pass out from shock. “Oh please, don’t hesitate to let me know when you are done with your project so our driver can take you home, perhaps you could even dine with us tonight ? I’m sure my husband would love to meet you, our daughter needs…”

“Needs to work on her project, mother.” She interrupted, visibly annoyed.

“I’d hate to make her wait any longer.” Coriolanus told the lady, as an excuse to finally enter the house and join his classmate inside, although he surely couldn’t care less about her and the disapproving glance she was throwing at him.

“Of course, of course…” The mother moved out of the way and he slipped inside, hurriedly climbing the stairs as if he was running away from the talktative lady of the house, straight to the brooding heiress.

“I told you to be here at 5 because she would still have been shopping in town and wouldn’t even have known that you had been here.” She whispered, once he was just a few steps away from her.

“I’m sorry but what else was I supposed to do ? Don’t tell me the advocate of less fortunate citizens that you are would have wanted me to force our sick driver to still do his job and get me here on time…”

She looked at him and he couldn’t help but smile. He had her there, stunning her enough with his remark to leave her speechless.

Silently, she led him upstairs and walked down a long corridor to a door at the very end of it. She pushed it open, revealing a bedroom bigger than the apartment Coriolanus and his family used to live in. There was a bed larger and with more pillows and sheets than she could possibly need, a desk and modern bookshelves lining the walls, and a large window displaying the nicest view of the Capitol he had ever seen, even the president probably didn’t get to see such a magnificent scenery from his bedroom.

“What are you gaping at ?” She asked him, her tone still annoyingly upset. “Do I have to remind you - again - that we have an assignment to work on ?”

Coriolanus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her and instead, decided to smile in a way he knew usually won everyone over to his cause. But she, as always, didn’t seem very receptive to it. She didn’t even bother to politely smirk back at him, sitting down at her desk and taking out her studying material with a loud, obnoxious, sigh.

He sat next to her and fix his gaze to the white paper in front of her, on which she only had written the title of their project for now. It was no surprise that the assignment they had been given revolved around the Hunger Games. Coriolanus knew that Dr Gaul and her team liked to get the opinions of university and academy students alike from time to times, in hopes of finding new ideas to improve the games. All they had to do was write down a few suggestions, detail why they believed it could work and then it would be done, they’d never have to speak to each other ever again… Except that their point of view on the Hunger Games were completely opposed to each other, and that was the very reason why Coriolanus believed their professor wanted to mess with him by pairing him up with her.

“I think the tributes shouldn’t be on display for all to see at the zoo, they are not animals.” She started. And once again, he had to resist his urge to roll his eyes at her.

“Having them there is a good way to get people to be interested in them.” He countered, wondering if all her ideas would be as counterproductive as this one.

“Maybe but they deserve some dignity… The Capitol could have them stay in comfortable bedrooms, give them some privacy and not mix them all together to avoid accidents…” She continued, and maybe she had a point when it came to that last argument. “Imagine being treated like an animal when you are already tired, starving and afraid! People were talking about you being a great mentor a few years ago, they said you brought them food so you know that it’s not right...”

“Feeding them would give them enough strength to fight and in turns, it might give us a better show.” He thought, out loud.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting.” She protested, clearly upset that the only thing he seemed to care about was making the games even worst.

“No, indeed, you are suggesting we treat rebels who have no shame and no hesitation when attacking us and killing our people, with more honor than what they deserve.”

“Because they still are human beings! And the tributes are just children, they didn’t do anything wrong…”

“The districts attacked the Capitol!” He exclaimed, unable to understand why she defended people who perpetuated such cruel acts.

“But children have no say in politics, they are innocents! If we put some notorious criminals in there instead, then maybe it’ll be more fair, especially if the idea is to punish the rebels for their crimes.”

“Children are sent into the arena to represent all the innocent lives we lost during the war, changing that wouldn’t make sense…”

“But it’s barbaric !” She protested, clearly disgusted by his point of view.

“It’s fair!” He riposted, determined to not let her point of view on the matter affect the quality of their assignment.

She opened her mouth, ready to counter with something but the voice of her mother, calling her name from behind the door interrupted her. She was fuming, her brows furrowed in disapproval and her knuckles white with frustration as she got up and excused herself to go open her bedroom door for her intrusive mother.

“Did you think about offering your friend some tea and scones ? Or maybe a saltier snack ? It’s not every day that you get such an opportunity to make a good impression on a man of his rank, did you remember to mention that your father is studying some marriage arrangements for you?” The mother said, whispering but he still heard every word of it. She glanced over her shoulder with embarrassment, fully aware that her mother wasn’t exactly being discreet so she stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her, hoping to make their conversation more private.

Coriolanus chuckled and moved the piece of paper in front of him, pondering which of his ideas he should present first. Surely, he couldn’t let her write her own, it would cost him his position as top of the class and might even flag him as a potential traitor if he showed this much mercy to the districts and their tributes.

He shook his head as he thought about the things she said, wondering how she could possibly think that she could get away with such ideas on their assignment. Even if the Hunger Games were revolting and barbaric in her eyes, it would have been smarter on her part to simply comply to what the university expected of her… But Coriolanus guessed she had nothing to worry about with a family as wealthy and powerful as hers, she could go on and protest against the Games, defend criminals and rebels and get away with it with a single word from her all mighty father… In many ways she reminded him of a certain boy he used to know, back during his Academy days. The kind to do foolish things and end up hanging from a tree in a public place.

Lost in his thoughts, unwanted memories filling his head, his pencil ripped on the page, a sharp line ruining the neat start of his presentation. He sighed and looked around, in search of an eraser to try and fix his unaesthetic mistake. He foraged through the compartiments of the desk, finding an exaggerated amount of study supplies and notebooks in each one but not a single item he could use to fix the page.

He sighed again as he moved to open the last drawer, forcing it a bit as it seemed blocked by a plastic box. Intrigued, he pulled it out and opened it, peeking inside despite knowing full well that he surely wouldn’t find what he was looking for in there. But his curiosity simply got the best of him, after all, he wanted - no, needed - to know what kind of dirty secret a woman like her may hide. Because if there was something he had learned in the past few years, it was that he was better off knowing everybody’s secrets in case he found himself in need of leverage.

He wasn’t disappointed when he saw what was inside the box, his eyes growing wide and his mouth hanging open as he took a closer look at the toy hidden in the box. It was shaped like a penis, making its purpose pretty clear. He felt his whole body tingle at the sight of such an unexpected discovery, his mind going blank when he realized that the toy was roughly the same size as his own cock. Even the veins on the shaft and the soft pink head resembled his, a realization that caused his imagination to run wild with images of her using this toy to pleasure herself. Did she like the feel of the veins rubbing against her walls ? Did her pussy have to stretch to accommodate for such a big toy or was she so used to it that it fitted her like a glove by now ? And if it did, did it mean that his own cock would fit effortlessly inside her too ? There was no way she could know what his cock was like, yet with an ego like his, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had chosen this toy in particular because it was almost a perfect replica of him, a device to train herself to take his whole size in, perfectly.

Her footsteps and the door opening pulled him out of his contemplation. He shoved the toy back in its box and threw the plastic container across the room. It landed on the bed, next to a pillow that slightly concealed it.

She walked through her bedroom and sat back down at the desk without noticing the blush on her classmate’s cheeks or the bulge in his pants.

“My mother insists that you stay to have dinner with us, she wants you to meet my father. I said you had other plans but she won’t listen.” She sighed, grabbing a pen from one of the drawers he had explored. “But before thinking about dinner, maybe we should at least get started on this assignment.”

He watched her, his perception of her completely altered by what he had discovered hidden in her desk. Now all he could think about was her, using her replica of his cock to pleasure herself multiple times a day.

“Well, I thought about your idea of sending criminals into the arena, I don’t think it will be good enough for our professors but if it’s important to you, we can write it down…” He offered, deciding that being in her good graces might help his cause.

She raised an eyebrow, sucpiciously glaring back at him.

“And what exactly would this great act of generosity on your part cost me ?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that made her cleavage even more voluminous.

“What makes you think I’ll ask for something in exchange ?” Coriolanus asked her, really struggling to look at her beautiful eyes and not lower below her neck.

“My father’s a businessman, I know nothing is ever free.” She stated and he couldn’t help but grin at her answer, it was the first smart thing he had ever heard her say and it happened to align perfectly with the way he viewed the world too.

Instead of answering, he leaned down, his hand brushing over the last drawer of her desk, causing the young woman to jump off her seat in panic.

“Don’t!” She warned, ready to throw herself between him and the content of her secret box to keep him from seeing what was inside… Buf from the amused smirk that instantly appeared on his face, she understood that somehow, he already knew. “Did you go through my stuff ?!”

“I was looking for an eraser.” He justified, which was the truth after all.

“Then you should have asked, not rummaged around in my bedroom !” She fumed. She opened the drawer in question herself, instantly blanching as she found it empty.

“So here’s the deal, I’ll write down your idea on our paper but in exchange, I want to see how you use your big toy to make yourself feel good.”

She stayed silent for a moment, looking at him with a mix of mortification and anger.

“You can’t be serious.” She finally said, hesitating between a scoff or a slap across his face.

“Oh I’m very serious when it comes to making deals.” He assured her, leaning back on his chair in a victorious stance.

“Alright… What do you want to know ?” She asked, still slightly hesitant.

“I don’t want you to tell me about it, I want a demo.”

“You…” She started, but the embarrassment that she felt stopped her from finishing her sentence, her cheeks turning crimson when she finally spotted her precious box on her bedsheet. “You’ll put my idea on our assignment and defend it in front of our professors ? In front of Dr Gaul if it’s considered worth being transferred to her ?”

“I will.” He promised, doing his best to not scoff at how naive she was. There was no way Dr Gaul would ever be interested in her ridiculous ideas to care for the tributes, all the head game maker wanted was more blood and gore to serve as an example for years to come.

She nodded and took a deep breath, standing straighter and holding her head high like a true lady of the high society of Panem as she walked to her bed. She sat on the edge, gulping down her anxiety as she reached for the plastic box and retrieved her very realistic looking toy.

Coriolanus sat straighter on his chair in anticipation of the show that he was about to witness, all the blood in his veins suddenly changing course and rushing to his cock instead, making it even harder and bigger as it strained against the fabric of his white pants.

It took her another couple of minutes to start moving again, very visibly at war with herself about it all. When she finally moved to tug her pants off and closed her eyes as she brought the toy to her lips, Coriolanus already felt on the edge of bursting into his pants.

He shuddered as he watched her suck on the pink tip with hunger, giving him a clear picture of what it would look like if he ever had the opportunity to fuck her pretty mouth. Drops of saliva escaped from her lips, rolling down the veiny length she tightly held in her fist. He was watching so attentively, he could almost feel everything on his own cock, begging to replace the toy already. But he behaved, not interrupting her until she stopped licking the toy, satisfied with the amount of saliva she had coated it in.

He saw her fingers caressing their way down her stomach with still a bit of uncertainty. Then, she tugged her panties aside, revealing her perfect pussy to him. Once again, his mind went blank with shock as he observed the shiny sheen that coated her skin, a clear sign that, despite exceptionally having a spectator this time, she still was pretty aroused at the thought of fucking herself with her big toy.

She pushed the tip of the fake cock between her folds, moving it up and down a few times to spread her arousal and the saliva still coating the silicone further. It seemed pleasurable already, making her close her eyes again and lean back down on her bed, her legs folded against her stomach, giving her attentive onlooker the best view possible of her wet pussy.

Finally, she pushed the soft tip inside her, gasping as her hole stretched to welcome it in. Coriolanus shuddered again, the urge to touch himself in front of such a delightful show becoming almost unbearable. He dug his nails into the armrests of his chair, focusing his pale gaze on the length of the toy slowly disappearing as it entered her and stretched her out wider and wider.

Her breathing was loud and sharp, her belly rising and falling almost in synch with the movements of her hand, pulling the toy in and out of her, agonizingly slowly at first. Did she like to be teased ? Or was she simply the kind of girl that needed to take it slow ? Coriolanus couldn’t quite decide but the one thing he knew without the shadow of a doubt was that, if it had been him and not some kind of silicone replica that she had full control over, he wouldn’t have been as patient and gentle with her.

Eventually, her toes curled and she sounded like she was struggling to be silent, biting down on her lower lip as she arched her back and came with a desperate whimper.

Even if it had been a bit too slow and soft for his taste, it still had been a lovely demonstration. She knew her body so well that it didn’t take long for her to climax, but he was still curious to see more. So much more.

She sat back straight on her bed, after pulling the toy out of her. A shiny layer of her arousal still covered the pink synthetic material. Her face was flushed and she didn’t dare to look at Coriolanus right away, awkwardly pulling her panties back in place instead.

“I’m not sure if you fully held your end of the deal.” He stated and she glanced at him, still lightly panting.

“What else did you expect me to do ?” She asked, her tone frustrated and breathless.

“Well, I’m sure you know better ways to put that suction cup in good use.” He remarked, pointing at the round end of the toy. She looked at it, as if she needed to make sure it was indeed a thing and blushed, her face turning a few shades darker, making his imagination run wild with possibilities, surely if that was her reaction, she must have been doing some even filthier things with the help of that suction cup to hold her toy in place. “Show me.”

His voice was low and commanding which didn’t leave her any opportunity to protest. Or maybe it was just because she actually enjoyed being the center of his attention, showing him her body and the delicious things it could do in a controlled way.

She stood up, bringing her hand to her mouth and spitting in her palm. She used her saliva to prepare the suction cup to stick, but Coriolanus’s body was reacting in a whole different way to such a suggestive gesture.

He had expected her to stick her toy up in the shower, or maybe on the shiny surface of her desk, but never had he imagined she would glue it to the large window behind which the sun was setting on the Capitol.

He admired the curves of her body, her ass still cupped by her wet panties and his need for relief became almost painful. His cock was begging to cum inside her warm pussy and yet, she preferred to be fucked by a plastic toy mimicking his size.

This time, she pushed her panties down to her knees and turned her back to the window. She took a few careful steps backwards and impaled herself on her toy, her gasp of pleasure loudly resounding through her bedroom, making his cock twitch with despair still constricted inside his pants.

She seemed to enjoy herself even more this way, getting fucked from behind with her legs closed and the whole city to witness how her dripping cunt swallowed the replica, over and over again as she rocked her hips back and forth.

“Are you not concerned someone might see you ?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but ask, wondering if - if he managed to sneak into her street at night - he might be able to watch her from the sidewalk across the street as she used her window as a prop for pleasuring herself.

“Not really, the possibility of being watched by strangers always sounded pretty exciting to me.” She admitted, so caught up in the intensity of the pleasure she was giving herself that she didn’t care about being embarassed anymore, shamelessly pleasuring herself as she even held his gaze with defiance.

She squeezed her round boobs with each of her hands, leaning slightly forward as her legs started trembling from her efforts. She was so close to him, it would have been easy for him to pull his erection out and force her to take it into her mouth as she’d keep rocking herself against her toy. They both would have enjoyed it immensely, but Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and, as his request had only been about watching and not touching, he made sure to respect it, even if it pretty much equaled torture.

A few desperate cries escaped her lips as they still kept their gaze glued to each other and the sticky sounds of the toy thrusting inside her soaked pussy filling the room were enough to make his cock unload itself inside his pants, the warmth spreading over the fabric as it kept coming out like an erupting volcano, making him feel pretty miserable about it all. She hadn’t even touched him after all.

It didn’t take long for her to follow him into a blissful climax, her breathing becoming so erratic that it almost sounded like she was suffocating until she fully pushed herself back, fully leaning her body against the window, the toy completely buried inside her as she whimpered even louder, shaking with pleasure and relief.

“Coriolanus.” She breathed, as she shook with violent spasms of pleasure and another load of wasted cum pooled in his pants at the sound of his name on her lips. Was she thinking about him ? Imagining that it was him who was fucking her from behind ? Or was she just attempting to speak to him and tell him that the demo was over now ? Whatever it may be, he was pretty sure that he’d never forget such a lovely sound, a melody to his ears.

“Can we… Get back to… Our assignment now ?” She asked, breathlessly as she once again pulled the toy out of her and put her panties back on.

“Of course.” He nodded, glad that she didn’t notice the wet spot on his pants. He didn’t want to seem pathetic for coming undone without any help.

She put her pants back on and abandoned her wet toy on top of her bed and, despite the relief he got, it took Coriolanus all his willpower to not attempt to fuck his classmate on top of her desk for good measure. But, charming as always, he behaved, even letting her believe that the show she had given him didn’t have much of an effect on him and only served to satisfy his curiosity… Little did she know that, as soon as he got back home that evening and after he rewrote their entire paper, he spent hours pumping his cock and milking every last drop of cum out of his body while thinking about her perfect curves and the delightful sounds she made when she was getting fucked by what could have been his own cock.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

Other series:

[julietsbody]

cw : MDNI!! 18+!!! toxic relationships, toxic behavior, gaslighting

a/n : am i obsessed w toxic ex!bf snow and soccer boy!snow… maybe…… i saw a bunch of toxic ex bf rafe prompts by princessbrunette so i got inspired

he has such a smug smirk whenever he sees you, parading around like you had won a trophy when you were done with him. but was he done with you? no, no, god no. coriolanus was an evil man, you said it yourself the day you were crying in front of him, yelling at him with your finger pointed to his face, saying you never want to see his face again, he’s a heartless asshole. all because he kissed a girl at a party?? all because he liked your body more than your personality???

the funniest part is that you always came back to him, crying at his doorstep, sniffling when his lips curve to a knowing smile. you missed him, you missed how sweet he could be, how loving, you missed how well he took care of you when he wanted to, you missed how well he fucked you.

so he did exactly that, pushing your mascara stained cheeks into his pillows as he fucks into you like you’re just another fleshlight, just another one - night - stand. and honestly… maybe you are! he’s not sure, he’s too busy letting his lips purse around foul words, calling you a needy slut who can’t even live without him, saying you’re so obsessed with his dick, saying the only reason you came was for his dick!!! maybe you’re the toxic one!!!!!!

[blythings]

I WISH YOU WOULD | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x filmmaker!oc (fem.) — summary: she thinks she is really, really smart unless it's about tom; and then she is really, really stupid. — tags: exes-to-lovers, named oc, attempts at humour, angst, depictions of anxiety, mentions of other celebrities, inspired by 1989 (tv). — status: ongoing. — notes: written parts will be marked with 🖊️

001. BAD IDEA RIGHT? 002. MESS IT UP 003. HARD TO LOVE 004. 005.

...

THE PUZZLE PIECES ⚠️ NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER ⚠️

* .✫* are we falling in love? say yes or no. 🖊️

tag list: open — just lmk!

[mrs5sn0w]

Serenade of Shadows

I : A Dance of Shadows -> II : Whisper of Deceit -> III : A Symphony of Heartbreak ->IV : Fractured Reflections -> V : Shadows of Allegiance -> VI : Echoes of Decent

Series Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Warnings : Arranged marriage, HEAVY ANGST, unrequited love, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers

Reader's surname : Flare

Time frame: Before, during and after tbosbas

Synopsis : In the events of Panem's political dynamics and the 10th annual Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow and her find themselves entwined. Standing at the brink of an enforced union, 6 years later, their mutual trust unravels amidst a damaging misinterpretation, prompting Coriolanus to believe the wrong. As the glacial barriers guarding his emotions begin to melt, a revelation of profound feelings unfolds, initiating a sprint against time for redemption.

The grand ballroom of the Capitol glittered with opulence, a testament to the excesses of power and control. She, who was adorned in a gown of muted elegance, stood beside Coriolanus Snow, a man whose eyes reflected the iciness of the society that had moulded him.

The festivities, a celebration of their union, felt like a masquerade of emotions, each step a painful reminder of a love lost.

The dance floor beneath them, once a stage for shared dreams, now echoed with the hollow sounds of a fractured connection. Coriolanus, draped in indifference, turned to her with a gaze colder than the winter winds that swept through the Capitol.

"Do remember that our union is a political necessity, not a playground for your emotions." His words, sharp as a blade, cut through the remnants of her optimism, leaving wounds that bled with the anguish of unfulfilled promises.

"Coriolanus, please," she implored, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken pain.

"Can't we find a way back to what we were?"

A scoff escaped his lips, a venomous edge to his tone.

"What we were is inconsequential. The Capitol demands sacrifices, and sentimentality is the first to go."

The cruelty in his words struck her like a physical blow. She felt a chasm widening between them, a chasm fueled by the Capitol's relentless demands and his willingness to succumb to its frigid embrace.

As the night wore on, the symphony of forced smiles and hollow conversations played on, but in the private moments between the grandeur, she attempted to breach the fortress of Snow's indifference.

“Can't you see that we're sacrificing more than just sentimentality?"

Her voice carried the echoes of a heart desperate to be heard, a heart that still clung to the fragments of a love that once defied the Capitol's constraints.

He turned to her, a sneer playing on his lips. "Love is a weakness, Flare."

The words, like acid, burned through her defences. He calls her by her last name, refusing to call by his.

The balcony, once a refuge for shared dreams, now became the stage for the unraveling of her heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, the anguish of his callousness too much to bear.

"Why are you doing this, Coriolanus?" Her plea hung in the air, desperate for an answer that could stitch together the tattered remains of their connection.

He met her gaze with a steely resolve. “Don't be foolish to ask that question again and again. You know why.”

His indifference, a fortress that seemed impenetrable, shattered the last vestiges of her hope. The balcony, witness to the tender moments of their past, now bore witness to the agonizing dissolution of their bond.

"You're heartless, Coriolanus."

His laughter, cold and devoid of empathy, echoed through the balcony.

"Your sentiments won't change our reality. Accept it or suffer the consequences."

The finality in his words landed like a crushing blow. A love that had once defied the Capitol's chains now lay broken and discarded. The dance through time, a once graceful movement, had devolved into a painful and discordant rhythm, echoing the hollowness of their loveless marriage.

As the grand celebration continued below, she retreated into the shadows of her pain. The ballroom, aglow with the Capitol's decadence, became a theater for the tragic unraveling of their connection.

The night was far from over. The masquerade of their union continued, a relentless dance that forced them to confront the haunting melodies of a loveless marriage. Each step on the dance floor mirrored the jagged edges of their fractured connection.

She was a prisoner of her emotions, sought solace in the shadows. The whispers of the past intertwined with the discordant notes of the present, creating a symphony of heartbreak that reverberated through the ballroom.

Coriolanus, detached and composed, navigated the dance with the finesse of a puppeteer pulling the strings. His eyes, devoid of warmth, scanned the room with the calculated precision of a man who had embraced the callousness demanded by the Capitol.

In the quiet interludes between the grand movements, she attempted one more plea, a desperate hope that some shred of humanity remained within the man who had once been her confidant.

"Coriolanus, can't you see what this is doing to us? We're sacrificing more than just love; we're sacrificing our very souls."

He turned to her, his gaze an icy dagger that pierced through her vulnerability.

"Souls are a small price to pay for power. I suggest you learn to accept it."

The words, a proclamation of the Capitol's ruthless influence, left her breathless. She felt the weight of their union pressing down on her, a heavy burden that threatened to suffocate any lingering traces of hope.

As the grand celebration reached its climax, the dance through time descended into a chaotic frenzy of emotions. The ballroom, once a space of decadent revelry, now became a battleground for the remnants of their connection.

Coriolanus, unmoved by the turmoil within her, continued the dance with an air of indifference. The discordant notes of their fractured love played on, drowning out the music of the Capitol's triumphant fanfare.

In the dimly lit corners of the ballroom, her tears went unnoticed. The pain, too private to be displayed in the spotlight of the Capitol's scrutiny, carved deep trenches in her soul.

As the night drew to a close, she, a mere shadow of the woman she once was, found herself standing alone on the balcony. The Capitol, with its glittering facade, seemed worlds away from the desolation within her heart.

Coriolanus, his duty to the Capitol fulfilled, approached her with the calculated demeanor of a man who had shed the vestiges of sentimentality.

“Whatever it is we had it the past, don’t ever look for it, it won’t ever come back.”

His words, devoid of any flicker of remorse, echoed through the empty spaces of her heart. The dance through time had reached its bitter end, leaving behind the fragments of a connection that had crumbled under the weight of the Capitol's expectations.

With a final glance, Coriolanus Snow, now a stranger draped in the trappings of power, left the balcony, leaving her alone with the haunting melodies of a love extinguished. The Capitol's grandeur faded into the night, and she, standing on the balcony, felt the chill of isolation in the air.

As the Capitol slept, shrouded in the deceptive allure of power, she remained on the balcony, grappling with the ruins of her heart. The night, once a canvas for shared dreams, now stretched before her as an endless expanse of emptiness.

In the aftermath of the celebration, the opulent ballroom now lay silent, a stark contrast to the tumult within herself. The masquerade of their union had unveiled the harsh truth — she was entwined in a loveless marriage, a puppet in the Capitol's grand theater.

Alone in the sprawling bedroom, she found herself on the sofa, a cold and unwelcome piece of furniture that mirrored the frigid atmosphere that had settled between her and Coriolanus Snow. The grand bed, adorned with lavish silks and plush pillows, stood untouched, a stark reminder of the chasm that had grown between them.

Her wedding gown, once a symbol of celebration, now felt like a heavy shroud, constricting her movements as she navigated the unfamiliar space. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting an ethereal glow on the elaborate patterns of the carpet, each thread whispering tales of a union strained by the weight of Capitol expectations.

As she stepped into the bathroom, the opulence of Capitol excess confronted her. The glass-encased shower stood like a transparent witness to her vulnerability. She turned on the water, hoping its cascade would wash away the residue of the day's trials.

The door swung open, and Coriolanus Snow entered with a casual nonchalance.

His eyes, indifferent to her modesty, met hers in the reflection of the gleaming mirror. The involuntary shriek that escaped her lips was met with nothing more than an eye roll from him. He faced the mirror, a razor in hand, seemingly oblivious to the invasion of her privacy.

“Excuse me ? Do you mind giving me a bit of privacy ?” she protested, the words barely audible over the rush of water.

Coriolanus, razor against his jaw, spared her a fleeting glance, his response as cutting as the blade against his skin.

"You know, Flare, the Capitol may find your attempts at modesty amusing. But let's be clear, you're not even interesting to look at, even when you're trying."

In haste, she sheathed her body in a robe, a thin shield against the rawness of his indifference. The scent of expensive bath oils mingled with the palpable tension, creating an atmosphere that underscored the compromises demanded by the Capitol's opulent facade.

As the echoes of his cruel words reverberated in the room, she chose silence.

The night, meant to be a culmination of shared dreams and whispered promises, had transformed into a haunting symphony of solitude. The echoes of distant laughter from the Capitol's revelry reached her ears, a stark contrast to the silence within the grand room.

She gazed at the grand bed, its expanse an unspoken testament to the distance between her and the man she had once called a friend.

"You're sleeping at the Sofa" he hissed

As she settled onto the sofa, the cushions felt cold and unforgiving.

She gazed at the grand bed, its expanse an unspoken testament to the distance between her and the man she had once called a friend.

The refusal to share a bed, a symbolic rejection that echoed through the silence, carved a deep wound in her heart.

Tears welled in her eyes as she replayed the events of the wedding night—the vows exchanged without sincerity, the applause that masked the absence of genuine joy, and now, the solitude that defined her first night as Coriolanus Snow's wife.

The sofa offered little comfort, its unyielding surface a reflection of the emotional distance that had grown between them. She slept alone on the sofa, the grand bed bearing witness to the ache of a connection lost.

The first light of dawn painted the Capitol in hues of gold, but for her, it offered no warmth. The reality of her situation loomed larger than the grand structures that adorned the city. She descended from the balcony, her steps heavy with the weight of unshed tears.

Days turned into weeks, and the semblance of a life continued. The Capitol, indifferent to the personal tragedies within its glittering facade, carried on with its relentless demands. She, who was once a beacon of creativity, moved through the motions with a hollow gaze.

Coriolanus Snow, now consumed by the machinations of power, remained a distant figure in her life. The corridors of their grand residence echoed with a profound silence, a testament to the emotional chasm that separated them.

One evening, as the Capitol bathed in the twilight glow, she found herself in the Academy library, a place that once witnessed the blossoming of their connection. The shelves, lined with volumes of forgotten dreams, stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time.

In the quiet solitude of the library, Her fingers traced the spines of familiar books. Memories flooded back — shared laughter, whispered dreams, and the unspoken bond that had defined their youth. She closed her eyes, attempting to capture the fragments of a time when love still flourished.

Weeks turned into months, and the grand wedding, a distant memory, held no solace for her. The corridors of their residence, once filled with shared laughter, now echoed with the hollowness of a connection irreversibly fractured.

As the Capitol skyline glowed with artificial brilliance, she stood on the balcony, a silhouette against the backdrop of a city that demanded everything but love. The echoes of their past laughter lingered, mingling with the distant hum of Capitol life.

Coriolanus Snow approached, his gaze fixed on the sprawling expanse below. The balcony, once witness to their private moments, now served as a stage for the remnants of a connection that refused to be forgotten.

"The Capitol's demands grow more strict, could you stop acting all sad, asking attention from the public ? It’s pathetic, we must play our parts better, give the Capitol what they want so-” he remarked, his voice a detached melody that echoed through the night.

“So you can get more power ?” She scoffed

“What more do you want from the people now that you’re President ?”

A bitter smile played on her lips. "Our parts, Coriolanus, are nothing more than roles in a tragic play. The Capitol demands perfection, but it has no regard for the cost."

His gaze, cold and unyielding, met hers. "Cost is not important when compared to the splendour of power. You knew the rules when you entered this dance, Flare."

The balcony, bathed in the soft glow of Capitol lights, became the theater for a final act. She was weary and disillusioned then locking eyes with Coriolanus Snow — a man she once loved, now a stranger draped in the trappings of power.

"Coriolanus, I once believed in a world beyond the Capitol's expectations. But we are prisoners, dancing to a tune composed by a heartless regime."

His laughter, devoid of warmth, cut through the night. "Prisoners, perhaps, but also architects of our destiny. Embrace the role, or be swept away by the currents of irrelevance."

The question hung in the air, a heavy cloud of unspoken tension settling over the room. Her voice, though calm, carried a subtle edge as she uttered words that dared to touch the forbidden.

"Would it be different if she was the one to marry you?"

Coriolanus Snow, his features frozen in an icy mask, felt the room temperature drop several degrees. The mere mention of Lucy Gray Baird, the elusive victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, was like a sharp dagger thrust into the depths of his guarded emotions.

His eyes, usually cool and composed, flared with a sudden anger that he struggled to conceal.

"You dare bring her up?" The words hissed through clenched teeth, each syllable dripping with a venomous disdain that seemed to materialize from the depths of his resentment.

Though she was well aware of the sensitivity of the topic, pressed on with a quiet determination. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as the weight of unspoken histories loomed.

"She's the one you cheated the Games for, isn't she? The girl you loved and then conveniently let disappear,"

she continued, her voice unwavering despite the storm brewing in his gaze.

A cruel laugh escaped him, devoid of any genuine mirth.

"You think you know anything about her? About us?"

The tension crackled in the air as he paced, the room feeling suddenly too confined. His anger, a turbulent undercurrent, sought an outlet in biting words.

"Let me make something clear, Flare. Lucy Gray was never meant for someone like you to understand. She was extraordinary, and you…"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over her form with a disdain that cut through the air.

"You're just a pale imitation, desperately clinging to a reality you can't grasp."

Though wounded by his words, she refused to back down.

"And yet, you married me. So, why don't you tell me, Snow ? Would it be different if she was the one standing here in this lavish room, wearing this elaborate dress, playing the part I am assigned ? "

His eyes, stormy and unforgiving, locked onto hers.

"Maybe she would have had the decency not to bring up the past to throw your own indiscretions in your face."

The words hung in the air, an unspoken challenge between them. The room, once a sanctuary, now bore witness to the unraveling of a carefully constructed facade, revealing the cracks beneath the surface of their strained union.

Undeterred by the venom in his words, Seraphina met Snow's stormy gaze with unwavering determination. She fought back, her voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

"If Lucy Gray was so extraordinary, then why is she not here ? If she really loved you, wouldn't she have stayed ? Or maybe, she vanished because she realized what a heartless, cold creature she had involved herself with."

Her words, a counterattack fueled by the fire of her own pain, struck at the heart of his defenses. Snow's stoic facade wavered for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability surfacing in his icy eyes.

"You want to believe in a love that never wavered, but you're deluding yourself. Lucy Gray saw through you, just as I do now," she declared, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

The room felt like a battlefield of emotions, each word exchanged a weapon aimed at the other's vulnerabilities. Seraphina pressed on, refusing to let his harsh words break her spirit.

"And here we are, in this grandiose room, in this sham of a marriage. You can't escape the fact that I am your wife, Coriolanus, and no matter how much you resent it, I'm not going to disappear like Lucy Gray."

A bitter smile played on her lips, a mix of defiance and resignation. The Capitol lights outside seemed to dim in comparison to the intensity of their verbal clash. The echoes of their unraveling union reverberated in the silence that followed.

The room, once a symbol of their forced unity, now stood witness to the fractures that no extravagant facade could conceal. She turned away from the balcony, leaving Snow to grapple with the lingering echoes of her words and the stark reality of their entangled fates.

TAGLIST : @randomgurl2326 @rosewine-5