#toxic!coryo
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coryos-wife · 11 months ago
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Prompt : Getting punished by coryo for trying to run away.
Pairings : toxic!dom!coryo & bimbo!sub!reader
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“I’m sorry! Please Coryo-” you yelped before being tossed on the bed. You land on your back swiftly knocking the breath from you for a split second. “Shut your fucking mouth” he grunts as he grabs your legs yanking you towards the end of the bed. Tears were flowing down your face as you tried to breathe steadily. “Do you have any idea how much I sacrifice for you” he asks seethingly grabbing your cheeks harshly with one hand making you look at him. You whine at the action, “do you?!” He shouts making you flinch. “Of course you fucking don’t” he scoffs pushing your face away. He straightens back up before going to undo his belt. Your eyes widen slightly as you realize the predicament you’re in right now. “You’re so damn spoiled, I baby you too much.” He states taking off his belt then folding it as he takes it in one hand. He sits down at the foot of the bed next to you, the silence was killing you. “Coryo I-” you try to reason but he cuts you off, “if you speak again I’ll give you 30 more to the 30 you already have.” He says. “Now get over my lap bunny I have to teach you a lesson” your heart drops at the words, you wanted to object but you knew it wouldn’t do any good. Tears refill your eyes. He rolls his eyes and huffs as he grabs your arm pulling you roughly over his lap making you cry out. “Fucking hell must I do every damn thing for you. You’re pathetic” he says flipping your skirt up revealing your pretty pink cotton panties. He sucks in a breath as he runs his hands along your asscheeks soothingly making you let out a small moan. He chooses to let you indulge in the slight moment of satisfaction since you would be happy in a few moments. His hand slides down to rub your clothed cunt. Your back arched as his fingers trace your aching pussy. He grinds his hips up slightly at the feeling of your wetness seeping through your panties. “Oh bunny, you’re a dirty girl” he coos teasingly as he adds more pressure and pace to rubbing your clothed clit. “S-sorry” you mutter barely audible but he heard it. Fuck, it drove him mad how you could be bent over his knee about to get absolutely destroyed and you still have your good girl manners. Always a good girl. It almost made it hard to punish you. Almost. Smack! “Oh!fuck!” You cry out as the belt comes crashing down on your ass cheeks. He brings his hand to slap your face making you whimper. “Watch your mouth” he reprimands you. “Yes sir!” you moan as he brings down another smack of his belt.
As the 30th strike landed on your redden bottom, you let out a strangled scream. Tears flooded your face and neck. Your lips were bleeding from biting down on them. “That’s it’s bunny, it’s over, okay? All done.” He mutters softly. He gently lifts you up to straddle him. You immediately dive into the crook of his neck letting out a sob, wrapping your arms around him holding him tight. “ ‘s okay honey, its all done now.” He coos into you ear as rubs your back soothingly. “You okay bunny?” He asks kissing the top of your head. “H-hurts” you manage to speaks through your cries. “I know it’s does baby but look at me,” you bring your face to look into his eyes. “I bet you won’t ever try leaving again. Will you?” He asks almost conceitedly. You shake your head ‘no’ vigorously, “never. I promise” you state softly, still scared to speak too loud. He smiles proudly as if he’s done something right by instilling the fear of God into his ‘wife’. “Good girl. Now I think it’s time for you to show me how sorry you are for trying to run away.” He tells you before pushing you to your knees.
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kasagia · 10 months ago
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The grudge (Losing your memory pt. 2)
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You promised you would destroy him. Be his ending at all costs. The fight between you begins. Both about his position as President of Panem and about the feelings you still have for him. But the question still haunts you... is your Coryo really gone? The second part of Losing your memory, but can be read as a separate oneshot. Although I recommend reading it. Inspired by: "The grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo and @uhnanix idea/request Taglist: @uhnanix @serving-targaryen-realness @diannana @aoi-targaryen @omgsuperstarg @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @un06 @tallulah477 @snowspubes @hueanhdang @snowspubes @phsychobanana @blythlover ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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"Wait... what do you want to do?" Clemensia Dovecote asks in shock when you invite her over a few days after your birthday party.
"You heard me." you reply calmly, playing with the Sejanus bracelet on your wrist.
"This is madness, Y/N. You can't… you…"
"You think so?" you ask, amused by her scandalized reaction. "The Capitol has seen stranger, worser things." you say, getting up from the couch and walking over to the mini bar to pour you both a drink. "Besides, you have to admit, it's an… exciting idea. People are going to love it… well, maybe not the old farts and those idiots from our year, but... I'm very optimisitc about it."
"Yes, but… my God, HE is going to hate you for this." she says with a growing smirk on her face. You laugh heartily and hand her the glass.
"This is the least of my worries. The question is... will you stand by my side?"
"Y/N? You've been quieter lately, has something happened?" your mother snapped you out of your thoughts as the three of you ate dinner together.
You replayed your conversation with Clemansia from a few months ago, wondering how to break the news to your parents… actually, now was as good a time as any. You doubt there would ever be a good time to convey something like this.
"I… actually yes." you say, clearing your throat and getting ready to drop the bomb on them.
"Is that Coriolanus? Did he propose to you?" you choke on the drink you were drinking and look at your mother with a dose of disbelief and disgust.
Apparently, the ridiculous amount of roses, chocolates, dresses, and even fucking jewellery that Coriolanus was sending you didn't go unnoticed by your mother. After the first month, you thought he would take the hint, but since he tirelessly sent you gifts, you stopped returning them to him damaged (e.g., cut roses and burned clothes) and decided to give them to the servants and maids and simply ignore that poisoned snake.
"What?! No, of course not. Besides, I wouldn't say yes like... never." you shudder at the thought, at which your father laughs, joining in on the conversation between the two of you for the first time.
"Then what is it?"
Their expectant glances intimidate you for a moment, and for the first time, you wonder if the decision you've made is right. But there was no turning back. You won't let Coriolanus win so easily (or, rather, at all).
"I… well. I've submitted my candidature for president of Panem."
The silence in the room after your statement is... extremely disturbing. They both freeze; your father holds the fork halfway to his mouth, staring at you in amazement, and your mother looks like they've frozen her. For a moment, you wonder if you've given them a heart attack. But your concern for them quickly fades when their loud collective screams echo throughout the dining room.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"So I guess I won't have your votes then?" you ask jokingly, going back to cutting your steak.
"Are you crazy? A female president?!" your mother asks indignantly, and you roll your eyes. Honestly, you were a little surprised at her shock. As if you would ever play her role as an obedient wife.
"You may not know it, mother, but more and more female politicians appear in the government. Right, dad?" you ask him, using your only-daughter charm on him, mentally thanking everyone above that this man never treats you with disrespect and hostility like other fathers would if their only child was a girl.
Maybe you kind of enjoyed being his precious diamond after all. Even if that made you desired by all of Capitol's young men, who were more than willing to take your hand in marriage and dowry.
"That doesn't mean you have to be one of them! Y/F/N, tell her something!" you look pleadingly at your father, and after his long silence, you already know that you are melting his heart to your will. All it took was a little, gentle pressure.
"What are your real chances of winning?" he asks with a sigh as your mother looks at him with disbelief.
"Y/F/N..."
"I think my only serious opponent is Coriolanus. People are fed up with these fearful politicians who have been arguing with each other for a long time. Me and Snow are a fresh take on Capitol affairs. We are young and ambitious. People may choose us out of curiosity alone. And among the female electorate, I think I have a much better chance than him... if you can convince mother to let me do this, of course. I won't do anything without your blessing and support." you reply, looking at him confidently. His face is unreadable, as are his eyes, and you silently hope that you have inherited his ability to hide your emotions.
"Y/F/N you can't think about that seriosuly. She can't do this!"
"If you want to be in power, wouldn't it be better for you to join forces? Run a joint campaign. You would become Prime Minister, and he would become President if being a First Lady didn't suit you."
"I am Y/L/N. I am taking everything or nothing." this one sentence makes his façade break down. He smiles and clears his throat, trying to hide his proud smirk behind his glass of wine.
"Very good. You know your bank account number. If you need more campaign funds, in a reasonable amount, of course, you know who to ask." you smile at this and get up from your chair, ignoring your mother's words of protest.
"Thank you, father." you say, kissing his cheek and leaving the dining room, leaving him to deal with your mother's anger. You had to call your staff. The game was about to start.
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You enter the parliament building quite uncertainly. You are wearing a white suit made by Tigris. The black vest, which is intended to liven up the outfit, fits you a bit too tight, but you blame it on the fact that you've been stress-eating sweets lately. You will ask her to sew you appropriate clothes later.
For now, you wanted as few people as possible to know about your candidacy. You trusted Tigris, but there was no way in hell you could let Coriolanus find out about this beforehand. You will present him with a fait accompli.
Just like he did when he chose Lucy Gray.
You notice him first. He is wearing a blood-red suit and a snow-white shirt. You wonder if subconsciously it's his reminder of the deaths of the people who allowed him to be where he stands now, but you prefer to think that the bastard simply has no conscience.
You could easily escape from him, but you don't want to. Not any longer. He will be the one running away from you. So you walk straight up to him, the click of your high heels echoing off the marble floor of the Parliament building.
"Nice suit." you say to him. He lifts his head and turns to you as he hears your voice. You can't read the look in his cold, blue eyes, but you don't care about that now. You're only here to stick a pin in him before his performance. "You wore your father's clothes and now you wear Sejan's? Maybe you haven't really changed at all." you scoff at him, and he shakes his head with an equally mocking smile as yours.
"This is probably the latest collection from your favorite designer. Not that I remember." he says, putting his hands in his pockets and watching you carefully as he takes a step towards you.
"Impossible. My favourite designer is Tigris. And I heard that lately you're too much of a snobbish, self-assured asshole to wear what she made for you."
"Maybe it's because she's turning you against me, trying to convince you that I'm a monster?" he says this ironically as you both stare at each other.
You notice that the rose is missing from his jacket pocket. His hair is also messier, as if he's running a nervous hand through it—a habit that obviously hasn't died with your Coryo. You frown at this but shake it off to respond to his taunt.
"Maybe you are actually a monster, Coriolanus? Didn't that occur to you? How could anybody do the things you did so easily? Or maybe Dr. Gaul calls this an unconventional, out-of-the-box way of thinking?"
"At least she's not pretending to be someone she's not." he growls at you, furious, a grudge shining in his eyes, at which you seethe in anger. He, of all people, has no right to resent you.
"At least I can honestly say I'm not a murderer. And what about you?"
Before you can react, he takes a step towards you. One of his hands wraps around your throat like a snake. However, he remembers that you are in a public place and quickly moves his hand to your cheek and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His icy eyes are locked on yours as he tries to read any reaction from you. You give him nothing. And you're damn proud of it.
"If you didn't come to wish me luck in my first public appearance as a candidate for president, you should go. Before I give you a real reason to call me a monster, little diamond." he whispers quietly, the tone of his voice laced with threat, but you don't give a damn.
"Oh, snowy… I really wish you a lot of luck. You'll need it, my boy." you say, patting his chest dismissively. You walk away, making sure to bump his arm with yours as you move past him to go to the hall where the first recording for the presidential candidatures of Panem is to be held.
And you already know that it will be hard for you not to look at him, as a furious surprise will appear on his face when he sees that you will also be presenting your programme and announcing your candidature.
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You've regretted your candidature many times over the past two weeks. Partly because you had to spend more and more time with the devil in a fancy suit. You didn't see this coming; you were too busy thinking about preventing him from winning. Now you had to attend balls with him and other candidates and various events that helped promote your campaigns, smile at cameras and photographers, and try to remain as polite and courteous to others as you needed.
Like now.
You were attending some important business event, and your uncomfortable high heels were digging into your skin, hurting you. But it was worth bleeding a little. You looked drop-dead gorgeous.
"Tomorrow you have an interview with the Capitol Times; the day after tomorrow we are promoting in the children's ward at the hospital; at the end of the week we both have to go to Fulvia Cardew's engagement party. And in the meantime, you have to go to at least three fittings of new clothes that Tigris made." Clemensia says, writing something down in her small notebook.
"Thanks, Clem. I don't know what I'd do without you." you say with a small smile as you sip your glass of champagne.
"You'd have to keep that stupid calendar and schedule yourself. If you want to help in some way, you can finally answer one of the many calls from Coriolanus. He torments both me and the servants in your house at night."
"And make my mother lose hope that someone is courting me? No thanks; this way, I have peace from her, and I don't have to talk to him longer than I should. Besides, I thought you liked it when I gave you the gifts he somehow managed to leave at my door."
"At some point, yes... but you will finally have to clean up the relationship between you two. Even if we win, Coriolanus will remain an important political player, and it would be good to have him on our side. Besides, it's obvious that he… oh shit. Gaul is coming." she says, terrified, and leaves you. You turn around just as the co-creator of The Hunger Games walks up to you.
“Miss Y/L/N. Congratulations. You surprised me.” you swallow the rest of the champagne and set the glass on the table behind you, preparing to face this crazy woman.
"I think half of the Capitol was in a similar condition. But I appreciate the gesture, Dr. Gaul." you say this with a polite smile as the woman looks you up and down. You're glad you're keeping yourself from trembling under her scrutinising, watchful gaze.
"Mr. Snow seemed to be particularly surprised. As soon as he returned to the lab, he came up with wonderful ideas for next year's Hunger Games." she boasts, and you smile fakely. It sickens you to think about what these two could have come up with for these poor children. But you don't show it. Instead, you chose to strike back.
"I heard that after Lucy Gray's disappearance, their... popularity dropped a bit. I hope things are going well with the sponsors? It would be such a shame if the project and ideas had to be... cancelled due to a lack of money."
"We're doing well. When Mr. Snow becomes president, I think the government will be more willing to fund them."
"IF Mr. Snow becomes president, Dr. Gaul." you correct her, slightly irritated. The woman smiles and nods her head mockingly.
"Of course... If." she says it with a wolfish, menacing smile.
You both stare at each other with hatred for a moment, both of you refusing to give up in your little battle. The atmosphere between you is tense.
You flinch when you feel a hand on your back. The delicate scent of roses begins to float in the air.
"Dr. Gaul. I am so happy to see you here. Y/N, you look amazing as always." Coriolanus says as he leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. You would wipe it in disgust if there weren't other people around you.
"Mr. Snow." Dr. Gaul greets him.
The mysterious smile never leaves her face as she watches the two of you. You remember what she just said. How Coriolanus was still so eagerly working with her on the Hunger Games. His hand on your back starts to burn you in an unpleasant way.
"Excuse me. I need to get some fresh air. It started to stink in here." you say, subtly implying that it's the scent of Coriolanus and his rose that bothers you as you walk away from them both.
You go to the roof of the penthouse, which is surprisingly empty, and take out a cigarette. You search for the lighter, thinking about what Gaul told you. Somehow you felt even more distant from Coriolanus... as if she emphatically confirmed what you already knew.
Your Coryo was completely gone. And there was nothing that could bring him back to you.
But why did you still care about him anyway?
"I didn't know you started smoking." you flinch when you hear his voice behind you.
You ignore him, trying to light the lighter, but to no avail. Apparently, today everything must have gone shitty for you. Seeing your struggles, he walks over to you. He takes a lighter from his pants pocket and holds it to your cigarette, lighting it.
"What the hell do you want?" you ask him madly, at which he raises his eyebrows, but he is not moving away from you.
"What? You won't even thank me? You know, I've helped you there. I could just leave you to talk with Gaul, but I walked in and took her attention from you." he says, stuffing the lighter and his hands into his pockets as he leans on the railing next to you, staring at the skyline of the Capitol below you.
"I didn't need a fucking hero. I could have left her at any time. Unlike you, I don't play vaseline, I don't humiliate myself, and I don't do anything I don't want to, just to please other people." you snort and blow a cloud of cigarette smoke at him. He coughs, looking at you offended, to which you just smirk.
"You know, I remember the time when you were doing everything in your power to please ME. In many, many ways, actually." he says, using his hand to wave away your clouds of cigarette smoke.
"Keep these memories close to you because they will never happen again. I'd rather be burned alive than ever sleep with you again." you say it with obvious disgust. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the furrow of anger forming between his eyebrows. "Don't frown. Or make-up artists will have a hard time covering your wrinkles."
"I have no idea why you are so aggressive and act madly when it comes to me. I didn't do anything to you." he responded firmly to your mocks, never taking those ice-blue irises off of you.
"That's the problem, Coriolanus! You think that you don't do anything wrong, when the truth is that you are taking actions that are terrible. I feel like puking just looking at you and thinking about how many children will suffer because of Dr. Gaul's and your crazy ideas." you burst out furiously at him. You are now standing opposite each other, both of you glaring at the other in a furious, defiant way.
"The Hunger Games are necessary."
"Bullshit." you interrupt him before he can make any arguments. You see him sigh, running a hand through his gelled hair.
You catch yourself subconsciously missing his curls and how you used to stroking them when he was lying with you on your couch and reading a set book for one of your classes…
"Have you ever been in the District? 10, 11, 12? No. You didn't. You have no idea what kind of people are leaving there. You live in the safety of the Capitol, and you have no idea how quickly these rats can start a civil war and rebellions. Did you forget what they did to us? How have we suffered? I lost my father, and my family went poor. I had to pretend that I was still a rich snob. Tgiris, my grandmother, and I starved more than once; they wanted to throw us out of the apartment. I had nothing but a meaningless name and family."
"You know, that was the time when you had everything. You had friends, family, and a girlfriend. My love and limitless devotion, respect, and admiration. Now what do you have left? Money? Power? Glory? Besides, people are not the same. They can be good, Coriolanus. The fact that you are too afraid to see or admit it is proof of how huge a coward you actually became." you say it disappointedly, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stomping on it.
"I am not..." he pauses as you look up at him, and your eyes meet. He thought that no one could silence him. But one look from you, full of resentment and sadness, makes him fall silent.
You make him feel weak. As if he was still that poor teenager who had to hide his family's terrible financial situation. Only now he's hiding the fact that your words are actually reaching him. That they actually hurt him.
He couldn't afford to have any weaknesses. He had to be strong, tough, and decisive. However, after one look at you, it was enough for him to begin to question everything he had learned under Dr. Gaul. To question everything he did after the fucking Hunger Games and Lucy Gray.
"Yes, you are. Everything you are doing and every bad decision you've made, you made out of fear. Fear of losing your life. Of losing your position. Of never coming back to the Capitol. You are a coward who desperately tries to play the brave man that matters in this world."
"You have no idea what it was like in the district! Or in the Hunger Games, when I had to get Sejanus out of there. You don't know what you would do in such a situation, so don't you dare stand there and judge me. Not when all I could think about in those days, what kept me away from absolute madness, was you." he says, desperately trying to present his actions to you as right, to make you understand his point of view and the reasons why he did all of these.
"Maybe not. Maybe I don't know what it's like. But I would never become the cause of the death of my best friend. You have his blood on your hands. I will never forgive you that." you notice him flinching at your words, but that's all you can see through the mask of indifference he suddenly decided to wear. But his eyes—his eyes and the emotions hidden in them—remind you so much of your Coryo.
"Do you think I have removed it from my memories? That his screams didn't haunt me in my dreams? That I simply forgot about him?"
"You are certainly on a good way to do it, Coriolanus." your soft whisper gives him goosebumps. You look at each other for a moment. When you realise he has nothing to say, you shake your head, laughing bitterly, mocking yourself for thinking for a moment that he really was more than just the cruel Gamemaker, and turn away.
You walk towards the exit, but suddenly you hear his quick footsteps behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist with one hand and holds your hands with the other, making sure you don't break away. He rests his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling your scent for a moment before whispering into your ear.
"Do you remember that place?" he asks, his nose stroking your cheek. "Our second date. Sejanus, let me take you to one of his parents' penthouses. They were supposed to be on vacation, but they came back earlier. We had to hide on the roof and wait since they would leave so we too could. We had a picnic here. I was holding you close to my chest, a little closer than I am doing now. It started to rain. I was furious because I wanted everything to be perfect for you, and as always, everything went terribly wrong. I wanted to look at the stars with you and run my hands through your hair while you fell asleep on my chest, cuddling up to me as if I were your teddy bear. I loved feeling the weight of you on me. In every circumstance. Anyway, we gathered everything and ran to your house. You let me into your room through the window. We took a hot shower together and..."
"And then happened the worst sex I've ever had." you interrupt him, trying to regain control of the situation. He only laughed at that, which made your heart skip a beat when, for the first time in so many months, you hear him laughing truly, not in a mocking, bitter, or fake way.
"The worst? Your moans and scratches on my back proved otherwise. Besides, considering it was the first time for both of us, I guess I did a good job. Your silky skin has haunted my dreams since that night. It never stopped. And judging by the way you are breathing right now, you also seem to think about that time fondly. We can do it again at my place tonight if you want. I am now in a much better position to truly make your nights unforgettable."
"I'd rather be bitten by one of Dr. Gaul's snakes, but thanks for the offer." you huff, getting out of his arms and pushing him away from you as you go to the exit of the Plinth's penthouse's roof.
"Don't tempt me. You know I can arrange it. Sucking the poison out of your delicate skin with my mouth is a really tempting alternative." he says, following you as you both return to the main hall.
"Disgusting pervert." you whisper over your shoulder so that only he can hear you in the crowd of elites and reporters who have gathered.
"Both of us, my darling. Both of us. But the point is..." he grabs your hand and helps you down the stairs as if he was a true gentleman. You would roll your eyes at this, but people have already noticed, you know, that you have hardened the mask of politeness on your face. "I remember everything. I am not losing my memory. I never will. Not about you. Not about us." he whispers, and you feel his blue eyes burning a hole into your temple with how intensely he stares at you.
"You must be mad to think that I will just go back to you. Besides, I don't have time for you. My voters are waiting for me."
He chuckles and gives you a mysterious, quizzical look that you can't read. But before you can analyse his stance, he pulls your hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on it. His full lips tease your skin, setting it alight with the reminder of all the times he's had the opportunity to do this.
He pulled away from you as quickly as he leaned into your hand. He smiles, giving you a view of his pearly teeth. How pleased the devil is...
"We shall see, my little petal." he whispers. Your old nickname he gave you one day is sounding as perfectly sweet as it used to, and you are not sure how much strength you have left in you to not let him melt your heart. Then he walks away from you, leaving you in the crowd of other people.
And you stand there, rooted to the floor, and all you can do is stare at the back of his head as you try to snap out of the feeling of his lips against your skin, trying not to dream of experiencing all of him again.
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A week later, you were returning from another party. You managed to sneak out a little earlier than usual without anyone noticing. Relieved, you got into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. You leaned against the wall and sighed, rubbing your neck, where you wore a diamond necklace. Your momentary alone relief didn't last long.
As usual, you smelled him first. The faint hint of roses hit you as the man leaned against the wall of the elevator next to yours, giving you some space. You glanced at him casually. This time, he didn't have a rose on his vest. He was also much paler.
"The makeup artists chose the wrong powder for you." you say, not knowing why you even initiated a conversation with him.
"Was Thomas so tired that he couldn't stay with you until the end? Was he too scared to hold on to the precious diamond that had fallen into his hands like a grain to a blind hen until the end of the night?" he responds to your taunt. You frown at the hint of jealousy in his voice.
Coryo has always been possessive and unsure of your relationship and whether you might leave him one day for someone better. Therefore, any man's attention towards you caused... unpleasant feelings for him. He obviously still had this behaviour towards you. Even though you were no longer together.
"He has an exam. Anatomy or some other shit. But don't worry, he will definitely accompany me when the election results are announced."
"Seriously? Are you now going to show off with that little boy-toy?" he asks you furiously. You can feel how his cold blue eyes are piercing right through you.
"Livia Cardew?" you scoff as well, opening your eyes to glare at him with an equally disgusted look. "But you know what? Actually, I'm not surprised. The biggest whore in Capitol. After you, of course."
"You slept with that whore 374 times. Which makes you equally slutty, little petal." he says with a cheeky smirk. You huff, folding your arms as you look at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe you were pathetic enough to actually count this."
"You're lucky I've lost count of the number of orgasms you've had because of me."
"And you are disgusting." you shake your head, impatiently waiting for the elevator to go down to the ground floor so you can get far away from him. You try hard not to think about all the times you had… done this.
But he doesn't let you go that easily. He leans down and brushes your hair back to give him better access to your ear to whisper.
"And you crave me as much as I crave you, my darling."
"Do you think that just because you started donating to charity organisations, I will suddenly fall into your arms or into your bed? You think I don't know you're doing this as part of a campaign? To get more votes? Are you that stupid to think that I will fall for it and believe that you are trying to be a better man for me?" you ask him, angry and defensive, mocking him.
"I'm starting to doubt my ability to do anything you could approve of. But it's nice that you still care about me enough to be interested in what I do."
"You can give up your candidature for president if you want to see me happy." he laughs at your words, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.
"And make it so easy for you? No way, my darling. We both know that only the two of us have a real chance of winning. You should finally surrender and join me. We both know this is where we'll end up. I, with you by my side, just as it has always been."
"Not always. I remember very well the time when it was only you and your songbird." the elevator is on the second floor when he aggressively presses the stop button.
You try very hard to hide from him the fact that you feel insecure in this situation. In a small space, with him practically at your fingertips, you don't know if you can control yourself. So you try to remember all the disgusting crimes he committed.
"It was just a game. A show for the Capitol. You know I had to win. It didn't end the way I wanted, but you know perfectly well that I had to do it." he says, placing his hands gently on your shoulders as he tries his hardest to keep your eyes on him and you standing still in your place for the time he talks.
"I've already told you this. There is always another choice." you growl in his face, furious, refusing to give up.
"You wouldn't even talk to me if I still remained a nobody. You would have dumped me the moment it became known to all Panem that my family was poor and that Snow's name meant nothing. And marrying you would only be a distant dream of a madman."
"As if you had any chance now." you mock him with a laugh. You somehow push him away from you and press the start button. The elevator starts moving down again.
"I have your parents' blessing."
"And my disgust and resentment towards you."
There is silence between you for a moment. He stubbornly stares at your face, trying to read some emotion there, but you give him nothing but a blank stare at the door in front of you as you impatiently wait for it to open.
"What do you do when you win?" his question catches you off guard for a moment. You look at him in shock.
"What?"
"What do you do when you win? Bring an end to the Hunger Games? Try to get me killed? Why are you doing all of this?" he asks, standing directly in front of you. Your chests rub against each other with every breath you take. You lift your head slightly, staring at him defiantly.
"So YOU won't win." you finally reply, shuddering as he takes your hand gently in his and starts tracing patterns on it with his thumb.
He leans towards you so that you could rest your chin on his shoulder if you wanted to. You shiver, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours and feeling his lips gently brush against your earlobe.
"Snow lands on top." he whispers, hot air caressing your ear as he bites the lobe of it.
"Y/L/N takes everything." you whine, digging your nails into his neck. He gasps in surprise, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he presses you against the elevator wall with his body.
"Or nothing. But don't worry. When I win, there will be no one who can stop me from marring you."
"IF you win, then I will be gone. You will never find me. Just like your little songbird." you can see the fury in his eyes at the mere mention of her. His grip on you tightens.
"She is not mine. You are. Accept it and end this. You don't want to be president. I do. There is nothing more powerful than you and me, so and this damn kind of punishment for me and accept your place as my First Lady."
"Maybe I don't want this… but it will be so funny to watch you fail," you say, tilting your head and watching him closely as his nostrils flare with rage at your stubbornness. "Besides, I'd rather shoot myself in the head than be your wife."
"There was a time when you wanted it. When it was all we dreamed of. You and me. Together. Against the whole world."
"That's how it was. When I thought you were worth something more, when you were my top priority. I thought you wanted something more than money and power, but it looks like I never meant for you that much to be as important to you as you were to me. Or maybe I didn't know you at all." you say, no longer hiding the hurt in your voice, and you press the button on the damn elevator to get away from him.
You promised yourself that you wouldn't show him how much he hurt you or how much you missed him. But apparently he wanted to make sure he destroyed not only your Coryo but you as well.
You look away from him, ignoring the fact that he suddenly went quiet next to you. All he did was look at you. And you avoided his gaze, afraid that you would melt in front of him and that you would show him your heart again.
The elevator opens, and you sigh in relief. However, it doesn't last long. You tense up when you see reporters downstairs, waiting at the exit.
"Smile for the picture." you say, and drag him with you towards the exit.
You quickly let go of his arm as he obediently follows you, and you try to ignore the fact that his fingers lightly brush against your hand as if he wants to grab it. You move away from him gently and quickly walk past the reporters and paparazzi.
You quickly get into your car and nod to the driver to go. You lean back in your seat and sigh deeply, placing a hand over your racing heart. You can't help but glance at Coriolanus.
Thanks to your car's tinted windows, he can't see you. Still, he watches your car with his eyes, and for a small moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't all rotten to the core. Maybe, in his twisted way, he still cares about you.
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The first round of elections was behind you. As you expected, Coriolanus and you achieved the greatest results. The game for the presidency of Panem has begun to be fought solely between you two.
And you were about to play the first dirty card against him. Clemensia nods at you as you head towards the podium and the microphone.
"Good evening, everyone. Thank you very much for all your votes and the trust you have placed in both me and my, well, rival after all." people chuckle gently, you find Coriolanus' curious gaze in the crowd. "I am convinced that, no matter who of us wins the upcoming elections, Panem will be in good hands anyway." You see a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he comes closer, moving freely through the crowd. The look in his blue eyes never leaves you for a minute. You would tremble, intimidated by his attention, if you didn't know, what would happen in a few minutes. "Without further ado, I would like to introduce someone who will certainly make this evening more pleasant. You have no idea how much I had to beg our star of the evening to agree to perform today. Ladies and gentlemen. At my ask and to your delight. The one and only Lucy Gray Baird!"
As you leave the stage, you glance at Coriolanus, seeing him staring at the woman with the guitar appearing on stage in shock and mild horror.
You stand further away from the crowd, on the other side of the room—as far away from Coriolanus as you can be—and watch him carefully, leaning against the wall.
You have to admit that Lucy Gray is stunningly beautiful. And the legend she has created around herself, her voice, and her skills only make her more perfect in the eyes of others.
You're not surprised that she charmed Coriolanus months ago and now. In fact, you expect Snow, too overcome with emotion upon meeting her again, to forget his façade and pursue her. With a bit of luck, maybe your people will be able to take compromising photos of him.
But you are surprised when, after watching her for a while, he shifts his gaze to the crowd of people, looking for something. You freeze when his eyes meet yours. You raise an eyebrow, not sure why, instead of staring at the girl, he stubbornly searches for your gaze. Or rather, you don't want to admit that you know the reason why, because that's exactly why you quickly leave the great hall of parliament and run away from the man who is now walking towards you.
And much to your misfortune, Coriolanus Snow learns from his mistakes. That's why you suddenly bump into someone a few metres from the exit at the end of the corridor leading to the elevator. You collide against a wall of toned muscles. His arms quickly wrap around you, keeping you from falling.
"Leaving so soon?" his whisper sent unwanted shivers down your spine, as did how close your face was to his.
"Get your hands off me." you snap at him and get out of his grip. You stare at the elevator, contemplating how to get past him and get in, but he sees your intentions in your eyes and blocks any escape route with his body.
"What game are you playing?" he asks, staring at you. You lift your head, returning his defiant glare. "I don't even care how the hell you found her. Why is she here? What do you need her for?"
"Shouldn't you try to catch your little songbird before she flies away again?" you mock, ignoring all of the questions he asked you.
"I am." he says, staring firmly at you, making you more confused by his actions than before. He should have been after Lucy Gray… why the hell was he keeping you pinned to the wall, blocking your only escape route with his body?
"What?"
"I am not letting you run away. We are solving this here and now." he says this, looking around the hall. You take advantage of his moment of inattention and try to free yourself from his strong grip, but he doesn't move even an inch in your struggle. Fuck his peacekeeper training.
"We have nothing to solve, get it into your stupid head!" you shout at him in frustration, unable to get out of his arms.
"You know what your main problem is? You don't allow yourself the idea that you might be wrong or that you don't know everything about me. I may be a monster, but I've never lied to you. About anything. Lucy Gray and I had nothing when you were with me. Whoever gave you these stupid rumours was lying. Ask her. She'll tell you that the only thing I did was kiss her. When I was drunk in District 12, exactly the day after I got there. And do you know why? Because I was convinced I had fucked up my life and I would never see your damn face again. And fuck, even kissing her couldn't get you out of my mind. All I thought was you. All I think about is you. I can admit it out loud. How about you?"
"I despise you." you growl angrily, struggling in his arms.
"Yes? Then why did you frame Livia for engagement to Festus? You think I don't know it's because of you that they were caught fucking in the garden together?"
"I wanted to discredit you. Show that your girlfriend is sleeping with anyone on the side. Besides, you made Thomas fail at university, and he had to retake his exams today, which is why he couldn't show up. I had to take revenge."
"No. You were jealous of me. You wanted to get rid of her and you did. Why are you playing the gardener dog? Why don't you just admit that you want me?" you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest to hold on to your internal irritation and fury at him. But it was a very demanding task, considering how his mesmerising icy-blue eyes were now watching you very carefully.
"I don't want you." you say, trying to sound firm but also a little indifferent, enough for him to believe you. But you can see by the way his eyebrow raises that you've screwed up something.
"Yes? Then kiss me." his sudden command leaves you extremely stunned. You almost lose the fight with yourself to keep your jaw from opening from shock.
"What?"
"If you despise me, if you don't care about me, then you will have no problem with kissing me and walking away like nothing had happened." he explains, moving closer to you, your noses brushing against each other, you feel his breath brush against your lips, and the warmth of his mouth is so close that it makes you feel as if you could actually touch him.
"Let me go. I'm not going to make a fool of myself for your own amusement. Those days are gone forever; we are not a couple, and we will never be together again. Get over it!"
"Then kiss me. C'mon. Prove your point. Kiss me as if you hate me. As if you despise every little part of me just as much as you claim. Prove that you have absolutely no feelings towards me despite hatred and grudges."
And God, you want it. You want it so much that it hurts you not to be able to press your lips to his right here and now.
You know that the moment your lips meet his, all your cold demeanour towards him will melt away like snow in spring. You know that you will easily return to his arms, giving yourself to him and proving nothing in your favor. And you've come so far—too far—to let him see past your facade now, to let him make you want him even more than you already do.
You shiver as he leans in so that his nose brushes yours as he gently cups your cheeks in his hands. He doesn't make the first move. Of course not. This cunning snake tempts you to give in to your greatest, darkest desires, which you feel ashamed of for having managed to survive in the recesses of your heart.
"End this torment. For both of us sake."
Just a gentle touch, you think, hearing his whisper and feeling his body softly press against yours, complementing you perfectly as always. One taste of his lips. Just one...
Your heart beats fast, and your breaths are mingling in the small space still left between you two. With a trembling hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fucking eyes are all you can look at, the unspoken request shining so brightly in them that you can't mistake his desire for anything else. And you give in, tilting your head to place your lips so close to him...
A loud bang makes you both pull away from each other. A drunk senator staggers towards the elevator, nodding at the two of you. He mumbles something under his breath, and after a quick glance towards Coriolanus and a nod of his head, you decide that he will walk him away and make sure he doesn't tell (or remember) how outrageously close the two of you were just moments ago.
You walk back to the party, trying to calm down enough to let the blush fade from your cheeks.
You make sure that Clem sends Lucy to her hiding place after her performance, and you continue to politely smile and pose for photos, promoting your allegiance.
And the next day, when you are reading the morning newspaper, you notice in one of the photos that this bastard put a rose behind your ear.
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It was raining heavily.
It was late at night as you were preparing for your speech the next day. You walked around your room with a piece of paper in your hand, gesturing and practicing proper intonation and posture.
“Miss Y/L/N?” you stop when you hear the voice of one of your maids. "We have… an unusual situation."
"What? Did something happen?" you ask, confused at her uncertain tone of voice.
"It depends on how you interpret the situation, miss." you raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She points to the window. You frown in surprise, but walk over to the window anyway.
"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" you whisper, seeing Coriolanus standing in your garden. He was completely soaked. His hair and coat were soaked with water, clinging to him as he stared at your window, standing still as the rain hit him.
"David says he's been there for several hours. He tried to talk to him and get him to leave, but Mr. Snow… just stands there."
Your first instinct would be to close the curtains and pretend he wasn't there, but you didn't want to think about the scandal that would start if anyone found out that your rival was standing outside your window in the full rain like some lovesick puppy. It was obvious he had to be here for a reason. It was probably some dirty play on his part. Something that was intended to negatively impact your candidature.
But then you looked at him. Even when you showed up, his gaze was... disturbingly empty. He couldn't fake it that well. It was not like he could completely hide his reaction to seeing you.
"Does anyone else know about this?" she shakes her head, and you sigh. You have no idea why he's standing outside your window in the heavy rain. You're just thanking fate for him choosing the day your parents left the Capitol to behave so strangely. You just hoped no meddlesome paparazzi saw him. "All right. Make sure it stays that way." you ask her and walk out of your room.
Walking downstairs to get to your coat and umbrella, you wonder why the hell he's standing outside in front of your mansion, staring at your window, risking getting sick with all the rain pouring down on him furiously.
It has happened before that he was standing under your window. Before this whole Hunger Games thing started, Dr. Gaul and Lucy Gray he would often sneak up to you through your window to talk about what was bothering him.
But that was a long time ago. And now you had no idea what he was doing out there and in all this rain.
You wrap your coat around yourself and take an umbrella as you go outside. The rain somehow seeps through your shields, hitting you unpleasantly. Water droplets start to soak into your clothes. You wonder how he stayed there for so many hours.
"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?! Is this another one of your sick tricks against me?!" you shout, walking towards him. But he doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on you as he stands there, motionless. You notice that his eyes are bloodshot from crying, and his hands are shaking slightly, as well as all of his body. You don't know if it's from the cold or from crying. "Coriolanus?" you ask, starting to seriously worry about him.
He trembles even more, not looking at you. He fixes his gaze on your shoes. What worries you is that he is completely oblivious to the rain pouring down on him. As if he didn't feel anything at all anymore.
“Alright, come on.” you say, pulling him by the arm towards your mansion. You hide him a bit under the umbrella, but it doesn't change the fact that he's soaked like a dog. Maybe even worse.
His silence, the lack of any emotion on his face, worries you. You haven't seen him like this before. So… empty.
You enter the house through the back entrance. You put the umbrella down and turn towards him. Seeing that he's still not reacting to any stimuli and acting like he's on some kind of autopilot, you walk up to him and start unbuttoning his coat.
He doesn't comment on your behavior. Neither do you say anything. You just want to get him out of all those wet clothes so he won't get seriously sick... You have no idea why you worry or why you care. Maybe you are on some kind of autopilot too.
As you lead him to your room, you are involuntarily reminded of all the times he snuck there with you. When you were still the closest people to each other in this world. When you came to each other for comfort. When you were each other's only shelter.
"I should still have some of your old clothes here. You should go change and take a warm bath. There's no way you wouldn't get sick after this." you say, walking over to your clothes chest and looking for some of his old shirts and pants.
"Grandma'am is dead." he says it in an empty, emotionless tone of voice. You freeze in shock and slowly turn to face him. He still stands where you left him, his gaze blankly fixed on the space next to you.
You don't say anything. You don't know what to tell him anyway. You just stare at him, waiting for him to say something more. It bothers you how he just… doesn't do anything. Acting as if all that was left of him was an outer shell, a facade that barely held together.
You walk up to him and take his cold hand hesitantly into yours. You stare at them for a moment and look up, meeting his icy, bloodshot eyes.
"I... I am so sorry, Coriolanus." his bitter laugh at your words might be a good sign after his disturbing behaviour earlier, but somehow it worries you even more than his silent attitude and blank stare.
''You will never forgive me, will you? You will always see me only as a monster? As a murder and nothing more?" he asks, hearing that you still call him by his name, even at a time like this. The version he hated, instead of the sweet nickname he hadn't heard in a long time. Which even Tigris stopped using.
"Thta's not..." you start, concerned at the calm tone in which he says it. As if the truth of what was happening between you was starting to dawn on him.
"This is exactly what I am to you! A heartless monster! But you know what?! I AM NOT! And you... you are a hypocrite." he starts getting angry and pushes your hands away from him as he paces around your room.
"Me?!" you scream at him, disbelieving. You step in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to face you.
"YES! You! You may not be a murderer, but you do something much worse. Your indifference, your hatred, and your aversion towards me—do you think it doesn't do anything to me? You've been killing me and hurting me day after day since I left the fucking Capitol and was sentenced to exile. And since I came back, your face, your voice, and your memories haunt me more than ever before. Missing you is killing me. Watching you from afar is killing me. Not being able to hold you in my arms is killing me. You said you could confidently say you're not a murderer. I do not agree. You kill me every day, and each time in a more cruel way. But all I can do is follow you like some faithful puppy, waiting for you to change your mind and give me a chance to show you that I'm not lost, that I'm not a monster, and that I didn't WANT any of this to happen! I spend every sleepless night, when I can't pass out in bed due to exhaustion and lack of sleep, thinking about you! And even now... when my life is falling apart around me, all I can do is... come to you. Just like I've always done."
He's shaking with emotion, and you think you've never seen him so moved or so shaken before. You wonder if he might have gotten drunk, but those thoughts quickly leave you when he suddenly leans down and wraps you in his arms. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he continues to shiver. His wet clothes start to soak yours, but all you feel is his breath on the skin of your neck.
"I miss you so much, petal…" he whispers, and you stroke his wet hair, unable to tell if it's his tears soaking the collar of your shirt or his wet clothes or skin from rain. In fact, it doesn't really matter to you at all right now.
"Why did you come here? Of all places…"
"And where else could I go?" he interrupts you, his eyes looking at you so… pleadingly. As if there really was no other place on earth he could go in such a situation, where he could wallow in his grief and despair.
"I don't know… to Livia or…" he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are terribly cool against yours, but it only enhances how amazing you feel as he caresses your lips tenderly with his. 
He slowly steals the warmth from you, which you're strangely happy about while he's deepening the kiss. You press yourself against him, slowly warming him up, his wet clothes uncomfortably transferring their wetness to yours, which you ignore in favour of kissing him. Just like the drops of cold water dripping from his hair onto your forehead, which doesn't sober you up and doesn't make you move away from him. If anything, you place your hand around his neck and pull him closer.
Eventually, though, you both have to pull away, gasping for air. You both take shaky breaths, his forehead resting against yours, as your senses slowly begin to come back to you. But you're secretly glad that his hands don't leave you as he uses the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek, your lips, your cheekbone, anywhere he has a chance to touch you, as long as he doesn't take his hand away from your face.
"Only you saw me in my fragile form. Only you saw my shattered heart and the shell of myself. I... only allow myself to be vulnerable with you." he whispers with his eyes closed, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, trying his best to hold on to you as if you were his only anchor.
"Being sad, mad, or vulnerable doesn't mean being weak. Don't be ashamed of having emotions. I... all I ever wanted... was for you to... to be something more than all of these people in the Capitol. To be someone more than what Dr. Gaul tried to mould you into. You are a good man, Coryo. Please show me that you can still be that man. That my friend and lover is still there."
You don't talk to each other anymore after that. You don't know whether he has heard your request or is even considering granting it. All you know is that you lost that night. That the rational part of you had gone to fuck itself, seeing him so vulnerable and hurt, just as you were.
So, when he tries to break away from you and walk away, you grab his wrist tightly, stopping him.
"Stay. Don't go." you whisper. You don't know if it's a request or an order. He doesn't think twice about it either, turning back to you after a moment and pulling you into his chest as he holds you tightly in his arms and buries his face in your hair.
And he stays. You manage to get him to take a hot shower and some medicine in case he catches a cold.
This night, you fell asleep in each other's arms. Every now and then you stop stroking his hair, his back, and drawing patterns on his chest to use the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the tears that sometimes fall from his gorgeous blue eyes.
And in the morning, when all that remains from him is a scent of him, of his cologne, and a dent on the pillow, you can't help but feel disappointed and silently hope that maybe your Coryo is still alive.
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You haven't had a chance to be alone with him since then. You both are too busy running your campaign and the ongoing rivalry between you two.
However, you notice that he has stopped sending gifts, late-night phone calls, or other ways of getting your attention. Whatever relationship you had was purely political. You didn't know whether to be happy or cry.
Tigris stopped talking about him. You don't know if it's a good change, but she doesn't mention her cousin anymore. She was quieter after her grandmother died. The black clung to her wardrobe and skin, highlighting her paler than usual complexion.
It was the evening they were supposed to announce the election results.
You took the elevator to the top floor of the Snow apartment, picking up Tigris and Clem on the way and heading to your house to either celebrate your success or failure.
You sigh tiredly, leaning against the elevator behind you. You close your eyes and listen as it moves up to the next floor.
You open your eyes when you hear a soft, buzzing sound. Things have changed a bit since you were last here. The interior was, of course, renovated and more elegant, but somehow... more emptier.
You try to shake off the feeling as you go further.
"Tigris?! I'm here!" you shout as you enter the living room.
You look around curiously, waiting for the blonde. You walk over to the bookshelf, looking through its contents. You choose one of the books and sit on the couch, but before you open it, you notice a framed photo on the coffee table.
You take the frame in your hands and look at an old photo of you and Coryo at the end of one year at the Academy. You cup your hand around his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you press a kiss on his cheek.
You smile as you remember the circumstances of taking this photo.
Sejanus found an old camera among his father's belongings. He insisted on taking photos to celebrate the end of a difficult year of study for all of you. You didn't know that Sejan developed the photos and gave them to Coriolanus.
And you certainly didn't expect him to keep them.
“I'm afraid Tigris is not here.” you place the photo on the coffee table and slowly turn towards Coriolanus. His hair is not combed with gel; it is slightly messy, and he has those adorable, damn curls on his head again. "She left a few minutes ago. You must have passed each other."
"Oh. She probably went to Clem's." you say, standing there slightly awkwardly and looking at him. He's wearing a black shirt and pants. Slightly wrinkled for your taste and definitely too wrinkled for his. "Are you alone?" you ask, unable to stop yourself.
"I am." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, walking around the couch so that he's now standing next to you, and picking up the book you were planning to read before Tigris came downstairs. "I guess your Thomas is waiting for you at your home."
"We... kind of broke up. Well, we weren't together, but… our paths diverged." you admit, taking the opportunity to have his back turned to you as he walked over to put the book back on the shelf. You can see his shoulders tense slightly. You've never wanted to run your hands down his muscular back more.
"What a pity. Right when I remembered his name…" he murmured. You take a few steps towards him, the click of your high heels echoing throughout the empty apartment.
"You always knew it, you were just too offended and angry to use it." he chuckles at your words and turns to face you, leaning his back gently against the bookshelf.
"Maybe." he hums, nodding his head, his eyes studying you intently.
"Maybe." you repeat after him, warmth rising in your chest as you see a stray strand of his hair fall onto his forehead.
"You should go back. I believe they will announce the results soon." he moves past you to grab the photo from the coffee table and places it on the chest of drawers next to the chair next to the bookcase. In the meantime, he turned on the TV, and he was right—they were going to report the results soon.
"What will you do if… you don't win?" you ask him, and he freezes for a moment. He sets things on the shelf, trying to arrange everything perfectly as he ponders his answer. You are getting a little nervous since you can't see his eyes or facial expression.
"I'll think of something for myself. Don't be happy. You won't be able to dance over my grave for a long time." you snort, shaking your head in amusement at his answer.
"I believe that in this case, it will be you who will be dancing at my funeral. And quite quickly."
"Stop it. You know damn well that I would never hurt you." he snaps at your answer as he turns to face you. You have been taken aback by his sudden reaction, but your defense system quickly kicked in.
"Sejanus..."
"I regret it every fucking day. Every day I wake up in the morning and don't see you on the other side of my bed. Every day I spend time surrounded by people I can't trust. Every day when I see Tigris' betrayed look and your disappointed, hurt gaze, it haunts my dreams as much as his screams. And maybe I'm a monster because I really don't care if he lives or dies, but I REGRET IT. Honestly. By you. Because of you. Because I lost you. I... I had lost you." he whispers the last sentence, as if it's only now dawning on him what really happened. It breaks your heart to see him like this, especially after what happened a few weeks ago.
"Coriolanus..." you say this and reach out to grab his arm, but this time he's the one pulling away from you. And the treatment you've gotten from him, just the same as you've once treated him, is tasting bitter.
"Just leave." he says, his eyes averting from you as he stares at the window overlooking the Capitol.
You walk up to him and place your hand on his shoulder. He turns his gaze away from the city in front of him and looks at you questioningly, not understanding what you are doing right now.
'Coriolanus... I..."
"And the president of Panem becomes… Y/N Y/L/N! Congratulations, Madam President!" the hosts' shouts and fanfare echo from the television, interrupting you. It takes you a while to realise what happened. Your hand falls from his shoulder as you stare dazedly at the TV behind him. You won. You became president.
Realisation hits you. You have no idea what will happen next. And... you're afraid. But not that you can't handle it. Not that you'll have a lot of new responsibilities, or even how many people you'll have to deal with from now on. NO. You are afraid that HE will never be close to you again. And the last few weeks... the last few weeks, maybe even months—had shown you that you couldn't live without him next to you anymore.
You needed Coriolanus Snow… as much as he needed you.
"Congratulations." his words snap you out of your shock and numbness. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to take it and shake it. But you can only stand there, staring at him as you try to sort out your feelings. "You won't even shake my hand? Am I not worth even that, Madam President?"
You shake your head.
You hear him snort, laughing bitterly at your action, believing this is another example of your stubborn behaviour towards him. He drops his hand, obviously hurt, and is about to respond when you suddenly take a step towards him, cup his cheeks in your hands, and pull him in for a kiss.
He is surprised. Probably the same as you, but he gets over it rather quickly as he automatically responds to your kiss, caressing your lips with his as fervently as ever.
At some point, you end up on his couch, your hands moving from his neck to under his shirt. Your touch breaks him out of the trance you put him in. He takes your hands in his and moves them away from his body.
"I don't want your pity." he huffs, pulling away from you as he stands in front of the couch. You pull him towards you by his shirt so that he's straddling you, and you kiss him again, effectively silencing him as your hands land on the buttons of his shirt.
"You've never had it." you mumble between kisses, trailing your fingers over the bare skin and muscles of his back, and he moans softly into your neck, leaving a few hickeys there along his way to the buttoms of your own blouse. "It was always either my love or grudge."
"And now?" he asks, moving away from you again. His blue eyes stare intently into yours, and you know your answer depends on how this evening goes. And you missed the comforting feeling of his skin against yours too much to worry about his morality, of which you were apparently the sole soul that wanted and was able to take care of.
"Both of them." you reply, licking your lips. Maybe he was right from the beginning? Maybe you were destined to end up together? Maybe you were really the only thing that could keep him on the right path? But were you willing to devote your life to keeping him in check?
"I can work with that." you moan as he kisses you while lifting you off the couch. Your blouse falls somewhere on the floor as he carries you along the familiar path to his bedroom.
His lips caress yours gently like never before. His hands are practically everywhere, gently stroking every bit of your exposed skin. He pins you against his bedroom door and sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey. You moan again, causing the same reaction from him.
"Please, don't ever leave me again." he whispers into your mouth before trying to devour you again.
"Then don't give me a reason to do it." you whisper back, combing his hair as he pulls away from you enough to open the door. He kisses you all the way to his bed, stroking your waist gently.
He lays you down on the bed, his mouth moving to your neck, licking and sucking, leaving a few marks there as his hands moved down to the button of your pants.
"Wait. Wait." he listens to you immediately. He freezes, lifting his head to look at you with concern and a worried expression on his face. "You're not mad that I won?" he gives you such a beautiful smile and laugh that, for a moment, all you can do is watch him.
He was so ethereal... breathtaking in every sense of this word. You have no idea how you managed to stay away from him for that long... even knowing what he did.
"I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I'll get over the fact that you won't be my First Lady."
"Well... you can be my First Lord... or something like that..." he laughs at that and leans in to kiss you. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him closer to you. You moan into his mouth as his bare skin touches yours.
You whine in protest as he pulls away from you. He looks deep into your eyes and caresses your cheek tenderly with his hand.
"You sure?" you smile slightly and nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you closer to him again. "We shall create a dynasty, my beautiful little petal." he promises you, placing soft kisses on your collarbones. You run your hands through his blond locks, pulling his head and lips to yours. "My most precious diamond." he plants another kiss, this time on the corners of your mouth, undoing your bra. "Mine."
"Coryo..." you moan, and he responds in kind, happy to finally hear his nickname falling lovingly from your lips like it used to.
You don't care what happens next. What will happen the next day? What will happen when you take over as president? Will he try to gain more influence than you? Will he continue working for Gaul? Or maybe you will unite your forces and create a presidential couple that Panem has never seen before. You do not know. All he cares about is his touch, his mouth, and his body against you.
And in the morning, when you wake up wrapped in his arms as he places kisses on your temple and tenderly, lazily draws patterns on your back with his fingers, you realise how good it was to be back where you belonged.
You realise how good it felt to wake up in your Coryo's arms again. Even if neither of you were the same person you once were. And you will certainly have more than one fight, dramatic breakup or silent fight for influence and power.
But after all, love was stronger than any grudge you could feel towards your Coryo... or at least as long as he still was him.
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littlemissmiller · 3 months ago
Text
Bird in a Cage
Part 3: His Perfect Girl
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Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
Summary: After your photoshoot, President Snow prepares you a bath and you get ready for dinner. With the help of the bath, some wine, and some special chocolates, you’re feeling for him have seemingly changed…
Word count: 3.3k
Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, choking, oral (f!receiving) , nicknames (baby, good girl), semi-rough sex, use of aphrodisiacs, dark themes, toxic themes, obsession, stalking, possesion, kidnapping
A/N: hiiiii! I’m back! i know it’s been a while and i apologize it’s been a rough August/end of July, but I’m back, I’m better than ever (hopefully…) work has been killer (I’m just a lil ole tech at a hospital y’all) and i had some personal life problems…so i hope you enjoy this, i was planning on finishing Summer Highs by the end of August but we shall see. Thanks to all who have continued to support me and this account i appreciate it greatly. Much much love ♥︎
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After you finish up the photoshoot, you’re whisked away to your bedroom. As you enter, the aroma of rose petals and chamomile fills the air. It’s hot and steamy and you peak into the bathroom as you walk in. You look around the room and on top of the bed sits a rose gold, silk robe and another letter. Only ce the maid closes the door you pick up the letter and read it.
My dear,
I was able to see the photos from today. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Absolutely stunning. You will look just as beautiful at dinner, I’m sure. Freshen up. Your bath is ready.
- C.S.
You sigh and once again remember that he can see you. You take a deep breath, the enchanting scent of the room flooding your senses. He wasn’t wrong. After sleeping on the floor all night, then modeling all day, you did feel sore in places. You take the robe and waltz into the bathroom. The porcelain tub is steaming and the water is littered with rose petals. Next to it, a small table, with a flute of champagne and three chocolates wrapped in gold foil. You test the temperature with your hand. The warmth is so inviting, you can’t resist. He’s even laid out a towel for you at the edge of the bath and had candles lit. It’s romantic in a way.
You strip off your dress, letting it fall to the ground and sink in. You submerge into the hot water and let out a soft sigh. It envelops you like a warm blanket, unwinding your knots, aches, and pains. You feel an immense wave of relaxation wash over you. You pick up the flute of champagne and sip. The bubbles dance on your lip and down your throat. It’s delicious, delicate, and lulls you further into a calm state of mind. The warmth of the tub encompasses you, melts your thoughts away. Maybe you could get used to things here for a bit.
Maybe this isn’t so bad
You think to yourself and your mind drifts off to President Snow of all people. You take another deep breath in and reflect on lunch. You’re torn. For the first time since being here, you feel like you’re noticing how handsome he is in person. You had seen him in pictures and on TV counetless times, always admiring the handsome young blonde. Before the gala, it was fair to say you were attracted to him, how could you not. He was one of the most handsome men in all of Panem and for most people completely unattainable. Yet, being his prisoner had put a slight bad taste in your mouth about him, an eerie feeling you can’t seem to shake.
The bath is helping however, and it’s hard to feel that sense of unease, when the water is so comfortable. You bite your lip, letting out a long sigh. Soon you would be with him, accompanying him at dinner. But now the thought of it doesn’t sound so bad. A nice meal, some wine, it truly sounds inviting. You take another sip of champagne and start to feel the buzz. You haven’t been this pampered in a while, despite your modeling career.
After a few more minutes soaking in the tub, you get out, take the towel, and wrap it around your body. Once you're dried off you put the robe on. When you exit your room you nearly forget he can watch you, but you seem to care as much. You had finished your champagne and was not just tipsy, but drunk off the aromas and warmth of your bath.
When you walk back into the bedroom there is a new outfit on your bed. It’s your dress. The red dress from the night of the gala. It’s an elegant red silk, with an across the shoulder cut and a slit that stops at your upper thigh. A pair of black heels lay at the foot of the bed and you recognize them as the same ones from that night as well. Along with the dress, he has given you a new accessory. A heavy, thick, silver, chain necklace. It’s intimidating, but nonetheless you take it back into the bathroom and change. You take time to also fix up your hair and makeup, despite having little tools to make your hair look nice. Once you feel you look your absolute best, you exit the bathroom and knock on the door. The maid opens it up, smiles and escorts you out of the room, along with the guards. They lead you back to the dining room this morning, where Coriolanus is looking out the window, sipping on a glass of red wine. The maid shuts the door and he turns around. He’s changed since you’ve last seen him. He now stands before you in a pair of dark, blood red slacks, and vest on top of his crisp white button up. He smiles and walks over to you, his black dress shoes creating an echo in the room.
“Hello my dear, you look incredible.”
“Thank you, President Snow.”
“Please, come sit” he gestures to the dining table.
You obey and take a seat.
“How was your bath?”
“Very nice. I haven’t felt that relaxed in a while.”
“Is that so? I would think a women in your career would have that sort of pampering in her schedule red” He remarks
“Not necessarily. That’s all things they expect me to do in my own time and that’s not always easy. Especially when the Capitol is always having a new trend to keep up with.”
“You can tell me twice, our citizens seem to change their mind about what’s popular quite often. It makes planning for the games challenging in some ways.”
“Because they want a good show?”
“Exactly, my smart girl”
Your core can’t help but burn slightly at the nickname and you bite your lower lip without meaning to. He smirks at your actions and pours you a glass of wine. You take it from him and take a sip.
“You like that don’t you. Being called my smart girl…”
“I-I don’t unwelcome it…”
“Good. I’ll keep that in mind. Tell me? Did you enjoy the photoshoot as well?”
“I did. I’ve always enjoyed modeling, despite how taxing the hours can be.”
“I’m glad. You truly did look stunning in those photos. I’ll make sure you see them tomorrow.”
You nod your head and take another sip of wine.
“You smell wonderful by the way. There’s more of that to come. Just so you know.”
“More baths?”
“More everything. Baths, clothes, pampering, and…” he holds out his hand, expecting you to take it. You do, without hesitation this time.
“Being treated like the gorgeous creature you are” he kisses your knuckles
“Can I ask you a question?”
He tilts his head and anticipates your response.
“You said you had something for me. If today went well”
“Ah! I do! I’ll show you after dinner” he kisses your knuckles again, smiling.
There is a brief moment of silence, before two avoxes come out with a charcuterie board and two plates. Coriolanus once again pays them no mind as they serve you, leaving a set of plates as well. You go to thank them, but he squeezes your hand.
“That’s not necessary, my dear” he kisses your hand one last time, before releasing it.
You nod to show you understand, then take some cheese and cured meat from the board.
“So what’s after dinner?”
“I thought a night walk would be nice. Get some fresh air then I’ll be taking you to my chambers.”
“To your bedroom?”
“Mhmm” he nods taking some cheese and crackers “and if you want, you can stay with me in my bed tonight…would you like that?”
“T-to sleep with you.”
He nods and smiles.
“Just sleep?”
“If that’s all you want…”
You nervously sip your wine, to afraid to answer. You look away for a moment then look back. He’s still anticipating your response, a curious look spread across his face.
“What do you want?”
He smiles and reaches for your hand again. You takes it and he squeezed it.
“My dear, I want whatever you want. If you want me to bed you properly, I will…”
“But my wants aside, what do you truly have in mind…”
He pauses for a moment, kisses your knuckles, before releasing your hand, taking another bite of cheese, and swallowing it with his wine. He leans back and eyes your body.
“You truly wish to know…”
You nod vigorously.
“Well a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves to be shown how beautiful you are. And not just with nice clothes and a hot bath.” He smirks
“With what then?” You ask
“Let me ask you, when’s the last time you slept with a man?”
You feel a slow heat creep up your face. How could he be so bold and brash towards you? Then again this is President Snow.
“I-well…it’s been a while.”
“Longer than a year?”
“Less than.”
“Did he make you shake, tremble? Make you forget your own name and replace it with his?”
“N-n-no, President Snow”
“Ever?”
“No. I’ve never had a man do that to me. Usually I…” you start, his inquisitive gaze stopping your thoughts.
“Go on” he encourages
“I usually don’t focus on my own pleasure and neither does the other person”
“Is that so?” He grins
You nod anxiously, tucking a hair behind your ear.
“Would you like that? If a man made sure you felt satisfied?”
You shift in your seat. The heat starts to rise from in between your legs and the handsome young face of the president is now ever more apparent. A gentle smirk lays across his face, as if he’s back to being a school boy who answered the professor’s question right over everyone else. The type of look that puts you right in your place. You bite your lip and glance down for a moment. You shift in your seat again, hiding your emotions behind your wine glass.
“Look at you. You do, don’t you? You’ve never been properly touched by a man. They take from you and never give. I don’t like to take things without giving back. Especially when it comes to my need to please a woman such as yourself.”
“I-I just always felt like that’s how it goes.” You admit
“Maybe for the boys you’ve been with. Most men want to make sure their women are good and satisfied. A man like myself, that’s what I love most. I crave it to a degree.” He explains
“So I take it you’ve satisfied many women in Panem?”
“I’ve been known to. Part of why my staff wants me to find a wife. And I’ll admit, I would like to find someone to have as my own. Have you ever been in love?”
You’re once again taken back by his boldness, sipping your wine before answering.
“Once, a few years ago…” you whisper tentatively.
“And not even he treated you how you deserve?”
“No, that’s why we broke up. Because I felt neglected and he didn’t see a problem.”
You look directly at the handsome blonde, and he peers at you, mouth slightly agape, as if he had been horribly offended. His breath hitches as he downs the last of his wine furiously. He sets the glass down and pours himself another.
“I promise, as long as you’re in my care, I won’t neglect you like that. You’ll never feel like that if you become my First Lady. Ever. Do you understand?”
“Yes, President Snow”
You and him move past the topic and into polite conversation. He asks you about how you got into modeling, what you like about it, what you hate. He seems interested in you and your life, nodding along and continuing to sip his wine. Eventually, dinner is served and it once again looks amazing. It looks like a white sauce pasta at first, but on closer examination there are elements to it you don’t immediately recognize.
“I see you’re making a face. It’s a truffle pasta. You can’t even get this in any restaurant in the capital. That’s how rare they are now. I only have chef make it for specific occasions.”
“And what’s the occasion tonight?”
“You. To our first dinner together.” He raises his glass and smiles.
You nod and tentatively smile back, raising your glass and clinking it against your own. You take a bite and immediately let out a soft moan. It’s so savory and rich. The sauce is so flavorful, and creamy. It has a garlic like taste to it, savory with a hint of umami to it.
“It’s delicious.” You utter
“Glad you think so.”
You both eat and enjoy the meal in front of you, talking little and focusing on the flavors. It truly is one of the best dishes you’ve had and you’re not sure how’ll his chef continue to outdo himself. You take your time to eat, the young president occasionally tossing you a glance and smirking to himself. He’s all too amused by your satisfaction with the meal. He loves how pleased you look and is tempted to now see you pleased in a different light. You notice his reaction, and try not to feel so small. You hate how he watches you and try to focus on your food.
Eventually, you both finish and there is an awkward moment of silence as the avoxes clear away the plates.
“Would you care to join me in the garden?
You nod and he smiles. He stands up, taking his wine glass, and you follow suit. He takes your hand and guides you out of the room. You slowly walk out to the garden, holding his hand the entire way. He continues to look back at you, giving you a devious smile each time. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your bare legs and chest. He can’t help but imagine how the rest of your beautiful figure looks and he intends to find out soon.
As he leads you away, you look out onto the garden, which is now lit up by various lights on the pavement and in the rose bushes.
“It’s beautiful out here at night too.”
“Isn’t it?” He squeezed your hand.
He guides you down the stairs and surrounds you in the green and white lush of the rose bushes. He leads you around, walking back to where you and him hand lunch.
“I’d like to see more of the garden this evening if possible?” You request sounding innocent, but you keep your goals of escaping in the back of your mind.
“Of course. But I have something for you here.”
He guides you to the spot where you had lunch, the chairs and table gone and replaced by a single, tall standing iron table with a box on it and a small silver tray covered up next to it. You look at it curiously and he momentarily drops your hand and picks up the box.
“Turn around.” He instructs softly
You obey
“Close your eyes and push your hair back.” You nod and follow his instructions once again.
You hear the box open and then the sound of something metal clinging slightly. You have a good idea of what it is now. He approaches you with careful footsteps. Coriolanus stands confidently behind you, clutching the jewelry in his hand. Slowly, your chin is tilted up by his fingers, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear. He unhooks the chain from around your neck and slides it into his pocket.
“You can keep that one of you want, but I have something far more beautiful.” He whispers
You shutter as he wraps a new necklace around your neck, followed by his hand under your jaw, kissing behind your earlobe.
“Turn around. Open your eyes, beautiful.”
You do as he says. You touch the new necklace and look down at it. It’s a golden rose, and it lays horizontally against your chest. You look at him doe eyed, speechless. Coriolanus grips your chin, forcing your face to look at his. He smirks. Coriolanus wants desperately to kiss you, but he knows now is not the moment. He strokes your face gently, then turns behind and uncovers the platter next to the box. Two chocolate truffles sit on the plate and he takes it, putting it in front of you.
“It’s the finest chocolate I have at the palace. Chef wants you to test out his new recipe. It’s different from the ones you had with your bath.”
He holds the chocolate to you and you part your lips and bite, as he slides the piece into your mouth. He trails his thumb across your bottom lip and to the corner of your mouth. He then licks the excess chocolate from his thumb, his tongue trailing a long, broad stripe.
“Mmm” the blonde moans “you can taste the hints of orange.” He remarks, taking the other piece.
“It is very good.”
“I should tell you this chocolate contains a few interesting ingredients.” He remarks
“Like what?”
“Nothing unusual or man made, just some natural elements. Since chocolate is already…a boost to…” he starts “certain needs…and desires” he says, popping the other truffle into his mouth.
“Will I feel…different”
“Not like a drug no, but you may feel more inclined to want to do something about how you feel.”
He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.
“You look so pretty out in the moonlight.”
“Thank you Mr. President.”
He smiles at you and you continue to follow him through the garden. He walks you down a path leading to more greenery and bushes. Then the path opens up into a cleared out area with a grand marble fountain. On top of the fountain was a sculpture of a woman, the symbol of Panem. Water flows from the top of her head and back into the fountain
“I’ve always liked this part of the garden. The fountain. What it represents.”
You look at the fountain and walk to it. You look inside and look at images of all the symbols engraved into the base. Coal, lumber, grains, all the resources from the districts. You look at it and realize that the same water flowing out is the same as the water in the base. You slowly put the pieces together of what it means.
“The Flow of Panem. It was built for the last president. In all honesty I want to move it so it’s more front and center.”
“Explain it to me.” You ask, even though you got the idea. You know it will fuel his ego, make him trust you more so hopefully he’ll show you around and then you can really plan an escape.
He smiles and looks at it, tilting his head.
“The base flows into the statue and the statue spits the water back out on the base. The base provides for the statue and the statue gives back.”
You nod and he holds out his hand again and you take it. As he continues to guide you around, you admire how the flowers look under the glow of the lights and moonlight. He finally takes you back inside and at this point you’re holding onto this arm. He loves how you cling to him and by now you’re both feeling the effects of the chocolate. You look up at him and give a soft smile. As you step into the palace he leads you to his bedroom, and a new feeling washes over you.
His bedroom is similar to the rest of the aesthetic of the palace. There is a small area for guests to sit in front of a fireplace. Off to the side, in front of the large window looking out, sits a small desk. You glance around at the many portraits of his family and depictions of younger versions of him. Next to the desk is a spiraling staircase that must lead to his bedroom. In the sitting area, a table stands with another chilled bottle of red wine. Coriolanus invites you to join him by the fire and you do, following him. You lean against the mantel and he gets some more wine, picking up the bottle. He walks towards you, refilling your glass and you thank him. He puts the bottle on the mantle and looks at you with great interest.
“You’re welcome” he whispers, brushing your cheek with his forefinger. “Your skin is so warm here by the fire.”
“So are your fingers” you breathe
You look at him, eyes connected to his own and a small wave of lust washes over you. He trails his touch down to your jaw, holding your chin delicately. He smirks and tilts his head.
“It makes me wonder, where else are you hot?”
He sets his glass next to the bottle and places his other hand on your waist. You set your glass down as well, as his touch begins to light up your body. His thumb brushes your hip and thighs, grazing under the slit of your dress. You gasp at his actions and lightly grip his bicep. He trails his thumb across your bottom lip, then tilts your face to fully look at him. Coriolanus sighs, his blue eyes beckoning for your full attention. You can see how full of need he is. How badly he wants to kiss you, but is waiting for your permission. You flutter your lashes at him slowly, looking at his tempting lips. Your body is begging for you to give in and finally you do. You can’t help it. He’s so handsome, the light from the fire shadowing his features perfectly, causing your head to stir. You kiss him, slowly, carefully.
His breath hitches and he moves his hand to cup your face. He continues to kiss you, moving his mouth with your own slow pace. He doesn’t want to frighten you. In fact, the exact opposite. He finally has you how he wants to and now he’s desperate for more. His lips are so unexpectedly soft and tender, a complete opposite in comparison to his normal demeanor. You continue to kiss him, finding yourself wanting more. Your body continues to betray you as a slow heat creeps up your skin, starting in between your legs.
You pull back with a gasp, almost taken aback but own actions. A greedy smile curls up on his lips. He cups your face and strokes it carefully with his thumb.
“So perfect. Makes me want more of you, my angel”
He leans in to kiss your cheek, then trails it down to your jawline, and then your neck.
“Can I mark you?” He growls
You nod breathlessly and he sucks on your soft flesh. He’s starting to become more and more animalistic with his actions, finding it hard to restrain himself. He pushes your neck further against his mouth and tilts your head back. The heat in between your legs is now becoming sensitive as your core is now throbbing for him. You bet you’ll be soaked by the time he finally takes you. His lips leave another mark on the other side of your neck and he pulls back to admire his work. Satisfied, he traces the marks with his fingertips and looks into your eyes.
“Would you like to continue this in my bed?”
You nod, almost surprised at your reaction. He guides you and picks up his wine glass.
“Take your wine.” He insists
You nod and follow him up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Once up and inside, you briefly look around. It’s clear he likes to keep the aesthetic of the palace consistent and his bedroom reflects that. It’s a relatively plain room. A single king bed, with white sheets, lays against the right side of the room. It has a delicate, hand carved wooden canopy that sits above it, making the bed look cozy and inviting.
He turns to look at you and sips his wine. He once again touches your neck and smirks.
“Finish your glass. It will help the chocolate work better.”
“Why is that?” You ask
“Wine can have a similar effect as those chocolates. They can both help you feel…like you want to give into your needs.”
You take a sip as instructed and look at him straight in his eyes as you do.
“So that’s what the chocolates were then. A boost for…”
“One’s natural desires, yes.” He sips his wine finishing it.
You finish yours as well and he guides you to his bed. You sit and he takes your glass, along with his own, from you, putting them on his nightstand. He returns back to you, sitting next to you. He cups your face again, letting his other hand part your legs slightly.
“I have a feeling you didn’t even need the chocolate though. Hmm?”
“I-I won’t lie, before I came here, I did always admire you.” You admit, despite your need to escape, you once again feel torn, especially now that he’s about to take you fully.
“Yes, tell me more”
“I mean, when I would see you on TV or in the papers, I had thoughts.”
“Mhmm, where I’m doing what I’m doing to you.”
His hands trail more slowly, continuing to part your legs, fingers dancing on your bare thigh.
“Yes, Mr. President”
“Mmm” he hums “have I ever told you how pretty you sound talking to me like that. I love how right it sounds.”
“It’s your title is it not?”
“It is. But you are careful and respectful about using it. You have no idea how different you are. How special. How much it means to hear you say my name like that.”
You watch him as he now gropes your thigh. He turns your chin and kisses you again. He sighs against you, slowly lowering you onto his bed. He doesn’t crawl on top of you however, yet he simply lays by your side, strokes your hair and continues to kiss you. He revels in having you on his bed like this, a sight he’s waited for ever since he first took you to his home. Time and patience had proved him right once again. You spread your legs some more and he moans against your mouth. He pulls back, resting his lips against yours
“Getting needy?”
You nod, and he bites and pulls at your bottom lip causing you to moan.
“Do you like getting eaten out?”
You nod vigorously and he slides his hand under your dress through the slit, grabbing your panties and sliding them down. He chuckles as he goes back to feel your wetness.
“You’re dripping.” He rubs your core slowly, gently “I need to taste you.”
“Please…” you beg
He lets out a low, sinister chuckle as he starts to kiss down your body. Your dress is still on, yet you can still feel the pressure of his lips through the fabric. He finally reaches your thigh, inching down to nestle himself in between them. He drags your dress up past your hips and admires your exposed slit. He looks at you as he rubs it again. You can’t help but moan and clutch the bed sheets. He watches you beginning to writhe under his touch and he truly loves the sight before him. Then he dives in, his tongue giving your core a curious kiss, then a long, broad lick. You shutter and buck your hips. He holds them down, going back in with more conviction. His mouth is so soft and wet against you and you can tell he’s quite experienced in this area. You're not sure how many girls he’s taken home or went to bed with, but he sure knows how to make you feel like the most special woman in the world. Like a man starved, he eats you like it’s his last meal. His mouth envelops your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit with great attention. You can tell he loves it too. Loves to taste women like this. Get all up in it and devour them. Especially you and your perfect pussy. And you taste so divine.
As he continues to lap at you, you continue to struggle against his touch, hips wanting to still buck and legs beginning to shake. You moan over and over and over again. You can’t help but also moan out his name, telling him how good it feels. His hands hook under your thighs as he pushes his face in further to your folds. You’re so sensitive, so needy, dripping and throbbing from your heat. He pokes his tongue through your slit and fucks you with his mouth. Despite his best efforts, your hips buck up over and over again. You squirm at his touch, you’ve never had a man do that to you before. The sensation is incredible and you feel completely lost under the spell of his mouth.
Coriolanus is reveling in your lust. Your whimpers and moans are so sweet rolling past your lips. He wants you to be loud. He wants you to enjoy yourself. He wants to know how much you want him. Let the whole palace hear it too.
“That's it beautiful, let it all out. Let me hear those pretty little noises”
He goes back to your core practically drowning in your wetness and he gives you a few last swipes with his tongue. He kisses your slit then pulls back. He gets greedy, letting his fingers pick up the work from his tongue. He’s so passive, almost experimental, as he plays with your clit. Then, he slides a finger in and then another. You moan and watch him. He sits up on his knees, placing his hands on your pelvis. He curls them up and pushes them in and out of your core. He finds a good rhythm and speeds up. You gasp in pleasure, his fingers working you up so much you feel like you might explode. He speeds up again, changing his hand from a curling motion to a rapid up and down pace. You clench his forearm and flop your head back onto the mattress. He can tell you’re close, your slick, gummy walls wrapping around his fingers like a vice. He watches you, your expression, your pretty face scrunching up. He pulls back just as you know you’re going to finish, he pulls his hand away. You whine at the loss, but your attention is won over by his actions. Coriolanus smirks as he undoes his belt.
“Take that dress off sweet thing.”
You nod and shimmy out of it. He pulls it down and off your body. He gasps at your naked figure, taking in the sight laid across his bed. He sighs, palming himself through his pants as he simultaneously palms your breast with one hand. He pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on. He rubs himself slowly, gawking at you and admiring how gorgeous you are.
“Look at you, so beautiful like this.”
He leans down and kisses your jawline sloppily. He rocks his hips against your pelvis.
“I really, really want you…” he growls
“Then take me” you moan back, your whiny voice sounding oh so desperate.
He smirks to himself, pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, hard and ready. He strokes it in his hand, watching you and occasionally glancing down at it.
“Touch yourself.” He commands
You nod, biting your lip and gently rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in between your legs. You rub slowly and watch him as he pumps his length. A satisfied smile sets in on his lips and he moves his hips closer. He leans down, kisses you and then, slowly pushes in. You moan against his mouth, pull away, and gasp as he bottoms out. He feels so big and full inside you. He slowly moves, grunts falling from his lips as he picks up the pace. Your hand falls away and finds his biceps. His hot breath fans your face as he rocks into you and he eventually captures your lips with his own. Cupping your face and keeping his movements consistent, you feel a slow wave of pleasure beginning to build. He pushes your leg up towards your chest, giving him better access to you. You look down at where he’s entered you and whimper. Watching his cock move in you like this has you drowning in ecstasy. He notices how mesmerized you are and wraps his hand around your neck.
“You’re hypnotized by it aren’t you? Tell me do you want more?”
You nod fervently and he chokes you tighter.
“Let me hear you. Tell me.”
“I need more. Please sir.” You croak
“Good girl.”
He speeds up, his hips getting faster and faster. Coriolanus slams into you, your body moving in sync with his rough rhythm. Your whimpers fill the room and the young president revels in your satisfaction, committing your sweet sounds and noises to memory. He continues to have a tight grip on your throat, almost cutting off your air, but you can still breathe. He stares into your eyes, his lust flooding your soul. He kisses you harshly, lips wasting no time to taste you. He prods his tongue in, swirling it with your own. You can’t help but moan, his hand moving to clench your jaw. He pulls back to look at you again. He looks down in between your legs, then back at you. He snakes his hand down to swirl your clit. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buck.
“That’s it. Show me how much you enjoy this. Just let go baby. Allow yourself to enjoy this pleasure I’m giving you.”
“Yes sir, thank you Mr. President”
“You’re so welcome my dear.” He kisses you again “My good” he groans “obedient…” he thrusts into you “girl.”
He ruts into you, lips still sealed on your own. Your own hands have settled on his back, holding onto him like a bear gripping a tree. The more he moves, you can feel you’re about to explode. Coriolanus picks up on it too, and gives you several purposeful thrusts to trigger your high. And he does. You clench around his cock, letting out a desperate cry of relief. Your legs shake and quiver, and you a series of cuss words flow from your mouth.
“That’s it.. Let it out. Dirty girl, it feels so good doesn’t it.”
He can feel himself getting close too, riding off the wave of your own climax.
“I’m going to cum too baby.” He warns “It’s ok, don't worry about taking it..”
You whine in protest at first, but then you feel it. His white, hot, cum shooting into you, hitting your cervix. Coriolanus slowly rests his hips, letting all of himself spill into you. He feels so satisfied, loving how fucked out you look as he pulls out. He watches the cum roll past your folds, down your ass and leg. He licks the pad of his thumb and trails it up your legs. He shoves it back at you then holds his thumb to your lips. You part them and he nods. You suck on his thumb and he moans, appreciating the sight in front of him.
“You’re so perfect. So gorgeous. You’ll stay with me tonight .”
You nod. It wasn’t an ask, but rather a command. You lick your bottom lip and then bite it.
“I’ll get you a towel and your nightwear. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry I’ll come hold you so you can fall asleep.” He whispers, kissing your cheek.
He crawls off the bed and heads to his bathroom to get you a towel. You lay back, wanting to cover yourself since you’re suddenly more cold. You spot a throw blanket at the edge of the bed and reach for it. You wrap up in it and wait for him to return. You rest your eyes and fold your hands under your head for support. You feel calm, relaxed, and truly satisfied as well. It’s like he’s put a spell on you, not drugging you per se, but you can feel that after tonight, your feelings about this situation have shifted.
When he returns, he cleans you up, then helps change you into a pink, satin sleepwear set, with a lacy top and bottoms to match.
“So sexy. Here.” he holds them out to you and you also see he’s holding a small silver tray with a pill on it.
“This will keep you from getting pregnant. I’ll get you a water”
He walks off, taking your empty wine glass with him. He comes back shortly, the glass now filled with water. He hands it to you, watching you closely as you swallow the contraceptive. You hand him the glass and he sets it down. You just now notice he’s shirtless and in just a pair of boxers as he crawls into bed. You move under the sheets as he lays the comforter over your body.
“Are you comfortable, too warm, too cold?” He asks
“I’m comfortable…” you murmur, slowly lulling into sleep.
Coriolanus settles in next to you, his hips slightly grinding into your ass as he pulls you closer to him, flush against his chest. He places small delicate kisses behind your ear and sighs into you.
“You realize how perfect you are. How perfect tonight has been?”
“Thank you Mr. President. It has been fantastic.” You agree
He turns your chin, kissing you firmly on the mouth.
“You can call me Coriolanus right now. Say it. Tell me what I want to hear.”
“It was perfect Coriolanus.”
꧁🝮꧂
Next Chapter
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fragilefangirl · 2 years ago
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I do think that Coryo fell in love with Lucy Gray, but i also fully believe that such love would never have been possible had he not be given the near-total control over her fate in the games, and by extension, her fate in the Capitol.
Listen. Here is a boy who has nothing but his last name, posing around pretending like he owned everything while scrambling for a scrap of something. Here is a boy who had to share everything he had ever owned, who was never fully in control of anything except for his words.  Here is a boy, who, due to the lie he's been controlling, can never let anyone in -- not even his pseudo-older sister and not even his most affectionate classmate -- for it poses the risk of being perceived, and potentially punished for his lack of ownership.
And then suddenly this boy -- who's so desperate to own something -- is granted the ownership of another person  a full-pass to control everything about her; her words, her image, her story. And sure, she wasn't his first pick, but the thought of having something gave him a sense of relief and dignity his lies could never give him, and that dignity, that slight restoration of confidence, gave way for that first crack on his chest after being guarded for so long.
And then the person he "owned" showed up, and she was the most interesting person of the pick. She gave the people a show and she made a song on top of it, turning his confidence to pride. I truly believe that had he been assigned to another person, he would not have showed up to the train station, simply due the fact that they were not interesting enough to warrant his  visit -- or his grandma'am's roses. Him showing up to the train wasn't just done in goodwill; it was also a stake of ownership -- it was him, acknowledging to himself that this was something worth owning, and like other things worth owning, it could be taken away from him if he lets his guard slips.
And that becomes the initial foundation to their interaction; the talking, the bringing up food... sure, Lucy Gray was interesting, but he was detached of her charm in those first meeting, seeing her in the lens of how others might measure her and her worth. his main focus was "taking care of her"; making sure his precious thing survived, making sure his ownership of her -- and thus his pride -- will not dissipate.
And then the tributes started plotting to kill him, only to be stopped by Lucy Gray. Sure, for her, he might seem as if he was doing something a kind -- even if useless -- meeting her in this run-down train station, and that perhaps was part of the reason why she defended him, and part of the reason why she stood by him in that Zoo cage. But for Coryo, his visit was calculated, his rose a chip of bargain, his zoo visit a byproduct of refusing to be caught slipping. For him, Lucy Gray stepping up for him was uncalled for, a surprising kindness.
He tried to rationalize it best as he could, but he was stumped. And I think this was when he started to really listen to Lucy Gray, to stop being detached from her. He was his father's son, and he believed in knowing the things he owned in order to properly maintain it. And it was this desire to know that melted his walls, that made him vulnerable, because to understand her fully he opened himself up to be understood, which had never happened before.
I think Coryo did love Lucy Gray, however tainted and terrible that love was. I think it was the first time of him making the effort to perceive someone and be reciprocated back -- fully, thoroughly, and wholeheartedly. It helped (or didn't help?) That Lucy Gray was a poet, that she fed him with pretty words; the only things that -- up until she showed up -- he'd ever truly owned for himself. For him, that connection -- added over the fact that he had "owned her", as everyone else kept saying -- must have felt like a drug. It must have felt intoxicating, to own something so lovely, something that adored him. It must have been a new, exhilarating feeling for Coryo, who never owned anything but worthless scraps and his pretty, pretty words. And yes, that was such a terrible way to put it, but love is many things; it can be terrible too.
I think Coryo loved Lucy Gray, and had they stayed in Capitol, he would have been able to continue to "love her". Billy Taupe was just some name, the Covey some story. What for Lucy Gray was history, was only pretty words for him. For all he chose to believe in, they could be the same pretty words he said; mostly lie, some exaggeration. In the Capitol, she is his, fully. And Coryo can love only what he owns.
But they didn't stay at Capitol, they moved to twelve. Suddenly, all her pretty words were honest and real, something he couldn't ignore, much less control. Suddenly, there was the Covey, and Billy Taupe, and Mayor Lipp, and even if her eyes were for him only he still had to share the rest of her -- her voice, her charm, her poise -- with other people. Twelve highlighted that he'd never truly owned her, we all know that. But here's another thing that twelve highlighted; it was him who chose to be the soldier in a rundown district, him who chose to follow her. If there was any ownership to be had here, it was her that owned him.
And Coryo? He doesn't share, yes, but worse than anything, he despises being owned.
This is where TBOSAS shone its brilliance; president Snow is the way he was not because he is an unfeeling sadist the was Volumnia Gaul is. He was the way he was because of love. Because of the vulnerability that comes with that love, and the refusal to surrender to it. President Snow would not be as ruthless and despicable had he been desensitized, and it was his feelings, his capability to love, that led him to employ some of the most gruesome tactics to win the games.
Here's the heartbreaking thing; once upon a time, Coryo loves Lucy Gray, and that love was true. Here's another heartbreaking thing; that love was built on poison, and its toxic vines ruined him so completely, decimated him so thoroughly, he was reborn anew evil; president Snow would not have happened without Lucy Gray, without Coryo's time in Twelve.
President Snow said, "it's the thing we love most that destroys us," and he said this as a warning to Katniss, yes, but he also said it to Coryo's shadow, standing behind her, who was looking at the back of the Girl on Fire, thinking the wavy black hair and the whispered songs were that of someone else's.
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gladiatorcunt · 7 months ago
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Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like
r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes
cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation
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Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.
This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)
You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.
Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.
Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)
He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.
A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.
You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.
Your phone chimes again.
Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️
You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).
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annebaby · 11 months ago
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National Anthem ♡
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hello all! this is my first multi-part fic, and I hope you like it! part two will be posted very soon :)
part two!
part three!
warnings: toxic snow, bribery, fem!reader x young!coriolanus snow, use of Y/N, that's it for this chapter!
I hope you enjoy! this is national anthem ♡
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The capitol streets were bustling with the obnoxiously ignorant, blind-sighted chatter about the games this year. People in all the most unnecessary of extravagant clothing, smiling, laughing, and celebrating death. It was sickening, truly. Hearing them talk about their favorite tributes and the gruesome details of their death made you want to rip all your hair out. 
Surprisingly, you were not a stranger to this life. Born a capitol brat, you shouldn’t let this get you to your breaking point at all. A senior in the academy this year, you vividly recall the students being mentors in previous years; the thought of helping a child to their death made you want to vomit. 
So, you tried your best to get your single errand for the day done as fast as possible. Your goal: to find a dress for the gala in a few days. Nothing too showy, but not too modest. A dress that screams, ‘I’m pretty, but smart. I am a district doll.’ As the President’s daughter, appearance and impression were the two most important things drilled into your head. 
Your father, President Stirling, was a new favorite of Panem. His pride for the land, his love for the people, and his goals for the future are what got him elected. He was a very clean-cut man, always showing how much he loved his family. 
You knew better though. He was a cold man, one who hardly showed affection behind closed doors, a man who had spoken very rarely to his daughter. You didn’t really know much about him, always locked in his office and never really caring about you. Unless, it was about your appearances or impressions. 
Scurrying through the mall, you quickly find your go-to dress shop, a more quiet and less popular location. This dress shop has all of the current trends, but they always had something different about them that you loved. You hated capitol fashion, but it was your only option as the most looked upon girl in Panem. At least they all had a unique look to them. 
Entering the store and smelling its sweet fragrance, you hurriedly got to work. Giving every dress you liked to a worker, she put it in the dressing room for you. A common customer, they adored your business. They adored your money. 
Dress after dress, you had finally found a winner. A thin-strapped velvet dress with jewels adorning it in a beautiful pattern. It was a deep red, floor-length dress. Happy with the way it adorned your body, you took it off and handed it to the shop worker. Swiping Daddy’s credit card, you smiled at the workers and thanked them sincerely for their help. They handed you the dress across the counter and you started to make your way home. 
Navigating the large mall, there were people everywhere. You did your best to hide your face, sunglasses and all. The President’s daughter was always known as the Princess of Panem, a girl that the younger children looked up to. It was hard to be unnoticed. 
Swerving and dodging people to the best you could, you made it outside at last. Unfortunately, your presence had become known and now none other than Lucky Flickerman was awaiting you outside. Probably one of your least favorite capitol citizens, always pushing you for personal answers to appeal to the audience. 
Trying your best to spot your driver without being noticed, you see the blacked out SUV parked right down the street. It was a different car that dropped you off, but this SUV was still branded with the President’s logo. You open the doors to exit the mall, and Lucky Flickerman is already on you. 
“Is that the anticipated gown for the Gala, Ms. Stirling? What color is it? Just a peek? We’d love to see it!” 
By the time he was done getting his jumble of questions out, you had already reached the SUV. Opening the passenger door, you quickly threw the dress in the back. However, you noticed your driver was a different man than usual. 
“Coriolanus? Did my dad send you as my driver?” You took the sunglasses off your face, confusion taking over as you awaited his answer. 
Coriolanus Snow was your father’s newest intern. A charming man, certainly. He was handsome, smart, and cunning. You had a schoolgirl crush on him since he started working for your family, but you pushed it to the side. You didn’t want to be just another nuclear wife with a nuclear family in the capitol. You just weren’t ready to accept your inevitable fate. 
“Yes. The other driver wasn’t aware he was supposed to wait for you, and he returned home,” Coriolanus says. He puts the vehicle in gear and begins to take you both back to your estate. 
“Oh, that’s odd. He’s never done that before,” you say. He was a nice man, you had actually gotten on with him quite well. You weren’t sure where communication went wrong. 
“Yeah. He was fired immediately after he stepped in the door.” Coriolanus doesn’t look at you, just keeps his gaze on the road ahead of him. 
You didn’t expect much less from your father at all, but still your chest ached for the nice man. After all, he talked to you more than your own father did. 
You looked at Coriolanus for much too long after he said that. You admired his slicked-back blonde hair, his prominent jawline and you took in all of his aura you could. The Snow family had a newfound power in recent years, and boy did he know it. He was dripping in luxury. He carried himself with such seriousness and coldness that it drew you in. 
You broke away from your trance, looking forward at the road as well. It was hard to focus on anything but him when you were around Coriolanus. He too was a capitol brat, one of the worst. He supported the games in all their glory, though he was never too extravagant about it. He’s a few years older than you, meaning he’s seen more of the games. He probably accepted the fact that they were never going to end. 
Stuck in your thoughts once again, you hadn’t even realized you reached your estate that quickly. The car stopped, and Coriolanus opened the door and shut it quietly. He headed to your side of the vehicle and opened your door, holding out his hand for you to grab. Blushing, you smiled and took his hand, slowly exiting the car. He opened the back of the car, retrieved your dress, and you two headed into the house.  “Thank you, Coriolanus. You didn’t have to do all that,” you speak gently. “It’s a part of my job, Y/N,” he says coldly. You wonder if you’ll ever get past his emotionless wall. You enter the house, and Coriolanus hands the dress off to a helper so they can take it to your room. 
“Lovely seeing you today, Miss Y/N,” he says before walking back towards her father’s office. He strides when he walks, hands in his pockets and chin up. You smile to yourself, before heading up to your room.
The next day at the academy was dragging. Excitement bubbled in your stomach for the Gala the next day, and all of the classes were giving you a headache. You didn’t need them anyway - your success was guaranteed thanks to your father. 
As you were finally dismissed from your last class, you gathered your things and headed for the door. Cascading down the stairs, your best friend Bridgette Sinclair joined you. 
Both of you had been friends for years, taking a fancy to each other's' company. She was a shorter girl, with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. A true capitol beauty, you had always thought. She too was born into the power she had, and she too believed all the same as you did. She didn’t act arrogant, never bragged on any of her assets. You loved her like a sister. 
“I say, we go to the park and discuss the Gala tomorrow! I can’t wait to see you there, Y/N.” You giggled with the girl, allowing your teenage personality to peek through. 
“Let’s go to my house instead, I’ll show you my dress!” You smiled and jumped up and down, finally allowing yourself to be true to how excited you were. 
She squealed in response as you waited for your driver. You hoped and prayed it wasn’t Coriolanus, Bridgette would never shut up about it. She knew about your crush, and she wanted you to talk to him so bad. Every time she’d hear about him, see him, or even just think about him, she would always tell you and then laugh at your blush. 
The both of you sit and gossip until the black SUV comes to pick you both up. Fingers crossed behind your back, you open the door with your other hand, and almost roll your eyes. Coriolanus is your driver again, of course. His blue eyes look at you through the rearview mirror as you sit down, not breaking his gaze even when Bridgette sits next to you. 
“Still no new driver I guess, yeah?” You look back at him through the window as he suddenly stops staring. Bridgette laughs and grabs your hand. 
“Uh- yeah no. Not yet. Your father is a particular man,” Coriolanus says, hesitantly. 
He slowly starts to take you both back to the estate, the car ride consisting of awkward stares from Coriolanus as Bridgette pesters you through hushed whispers. You almost feel as if he’s hearing everything she’s saying. You smack her quickly and quietly in hopes she’ll shut up. 
Arriving at the estate, Coriolanus does the same thing as before and opens the car door for you and Bridgette. However, his hand is only offered to you, not her. A strange action for him, you had always known him to be cold but still very polite. You took his hand and exited the vehicle before running into the house with Bridgette, looking back at Coriolanus as a ‘thank you’, before heading inside. 
“Y/N I have got to see your dress. I won’t tell anyone what it looks like, just please show me!” Bridgette plops onto your bed, anticipating your dress like a child on Christmas morning.
 You smile and head into your closet to retrieve the gorgeous gown. Grabbing it off the hanger, you slowly unzip the protective bag off of it. Bridgette’s eyes widen as she gets up to feel the dress, jaw dropped to the ground. She feels the material all in her fingers, gently admiring everything about the highly anticipated gown. 
“Oh my God Y/N. It’s beautiful. I absolutely love it!” She starts smiling widely before getting a mischievous grin on her face. 
“You know who else will love it,” she says, giggling slightly. 
You zip up the dress and hang it back in the closet, getting flustered by Bridgette’s continuous mentioning of Coriolanus. As much as you wished he had noticed you in the same way, you knew it would never happen. You were just like every other girl in the capitol. Nothing special about you. You wished he would see you as something special, but you were sure he didn’t. 
“If you don’t stop mentioning him, I'm going to strangle you, I swear.” You point at her, smiling sternly. She puts her hands up in a ‘it wasn’t me’ motion, before you plop down onto the bed next to her. 
“I really wish he did say something to me, just once you know? He is really handsome,” you admit. You hardly ever opened up about your feelings for him, just felt like getting it off your chest. 
“I know, Y/N. But I'm telling you, in a dress like that, with looks like yours, you won’t go unnoticed. There is simply no way he won’t stare at you tomorrow. And believe me, I noticed him looking at you in the rearview today. And! He only gave his hand to you for help out of the car. That had to mean something!” Bridgette sits up on the bed, you shortly following. She shakes your shoulders and tells you to be more confident in yourself. 
Hours pass by discussing makeup and flirting tips and all the other girly topics you could think of. All in preparation for the gala, of course. You discussed which shoes to wear, which hairstyle would look best, what color lipstick, everything. You knew you would feel pretty tomorrow, just maybe not pretty enough for him. 
Bridgette left after all the discussion, being picked up by her own driver. As you were walking back to your room after taking her to the door, you spot Coriolanus in the hall. He was passing off cash to a man you had never seen before. You quickly hide in the doorframe and try to listen as best you can. The man is short, seems friendly enough. 
‘Maybe a new hire?’ you think to yourself. Then, you’re finally able to pick up their conversation. 
“Just let me pose as the driver for a few more days. I won’t tell Mr. Stirling. Just leave the premises when you’re supposed to pick her up, and return back to the house in however long it would take you to pick her up yourself. Just this last time,” Coriolanus quietly whispers. He’s practically begging the poor man, shoving wads of cash towards him. 
‘Are they talking about me? He wants to drive me around? Is that why he’s been my driver?’ Thoughts are running through your head a mile a minute. So fast, you weren’t able to notice the conversation being over, and Coriolanus now heading your way. 
Too late to try to hide, you slowly start to reveal yourself as if you had just been walking to your room. He spots you immediately, eyes getting wide. You smile at him slightly, before trying to reach the stairs. However, he speeds up and grabs you by the shoulders, pressing you against a nearby wall. 
“Did you hear any of that, Ms. Y/N? Be honest with me.” His eyes piercing into yours, quickly darting from your lips and back up. He looks absolutely insane. 
“I- uh no. I don’t even know what you’re talking about I swear,” you lie. His eyes are scanning your face frantically before he releases you. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. As I'm sure you’re now aware, I'll be your driver. Be ready at 5. I’ll pick you up.” He slowly stares for just a second before walking away. He’s wearing a long coat, taking long strides. Something about him is so addicting. 
You catch your breath for a second, slowly starting to put the pieces together. He knew you were listening, and now you knew you were correct. He wanted to be your driver and he was bribing the new hire! Oh you couldn’t wait to tell Bridgette about this. 
You hurriedly headed up to your room, changing into your PJs and getting ready for bed. Your mind continuously running on overdrive, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything, except the fact he was taking you to the gala tomorrow. Did he like you?
Getting into your bed, it wasn’t long before you fell asleep, Coriolanus heavy on your mind. 
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super-nova5045 · 7 months ago
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okay with all seriousness maybe im delusional but i genuinely DO believe snowjanus is implicitly homoerotic like…not necessarily requited or canon which is why its homoerotic but like betraying your devoted best friend (who you secretly hate because you’re extremely envious of him but you also adore him but you can’t ever admit to that) because he was beginning to pay attention to someone else and then once he’s dead you eat one of HIS COOKIES while MOURNING HIM and it calms you down because it’s sweet JUST LIKE HIM and then practically becoming his widower and stealing his identity and life entirely (which is what’ve you always wanted isn’t it) is like. Extraordinarily queer like this is “top ten biggest queerbaits” shit.
you could never tell if you wanted to be him or be WITH him because why else would you be jealous and angry when he’s talking to other people. why else would you eat and consume the last remnant of him that was sweet just like the rest of him. why else would you be written as a snake and him as a rabbit which naturally have a predator-prey relationship. why else would you continue to profit from consuming him and his identity even after he died because of YOU and your hunger for power in any form. you eat and he delivers. Anyway
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shadowqueenjude · 9 months ago
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"Stop romanticizing Snowbaird, they're so toxic!" 1. It's fucking fiction. 2. I've seen y'all ship sooooooo much worse and toxic. Snowbaird didn't get toxic until the very end. Y'all just can't handle that the narrative doesn't justify Coryo Snow and instead portrays him as a villain rather than a "tortured hero." If the original hunger games trilogy didn't exist y'all would be shipping it so hard.
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mr-nauseam · 2 months ago
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I love a bottom coriolanus who's on all fours begging for a d*ck up get inside his ass with his pride shattered, I just don't think that's sejanus' job, that's something billy taupe should do to make it funnier <3
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overleftdown · 1 year ago
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flaming coriolanus snow fanfiction writers for writing the things they are writing as if i’m any more normal than them. sitting in my super secret laboratory, cooking up a detailed character analysis of coryo’s narcissism, planning a detailed timeline of events that would just slightly shift the trajectory of his life in a different direction, DSM-5 open on one tab, psychotherapy techniques on another tab, DV survivor blog on another tab, a study regarding cluster B development on another tab, while eating biscof cookies and kettle popcorn.
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spideyhexx · 6 months ago
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feel like some people don’t comprehend that partially the point of tbosas is that you can sympathize with Coryo. It never excuses his actions nor does it try to, but it’s way more complicated than Coryo just being ‘psycho’
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pumpkinrootbeer · 11 months ago
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Favorite thing is coriolanus's internal monologue about sejanus being "he has big sad eyes. he had big soulful beautiful brown eyes. he had gorgeous wet sad eyes brown big sad eyes. he looked sad and scared, with his big sad scared eyes. what other choice did I have but to put him down like a dog. tbh. xoxo gossip girl"
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kasagia · 10 months ago
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District boy
Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader; doppëlganger! Finnick Odair x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You and Corio were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all. Requested by: Two anonymous. I hope you will like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): jealous Coriolanus Snow; (doppëlganger) of Finnick Odair; the author doesn't care that it is impossible; Coryo being simp for the reader; reader flirts with Finnick; quote from 'My tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift; Words count: 7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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Coriolanus did not remember the exact moment when this happened.
Everything that had to do with you came to him very... naturally.
Before he knew it, one joint project for one of your classes turned into daily discussions in the cafeteria. You entered his very small circle of 'friends' like you should have always belonged there and unknowingly became the best friend to young Snow.
And then you started staying in the library after classes, talking about various things (Coriolanus hated himself for wasting his time when he should have been studying on pointless discussions with you, but he always ended up in the library at the end of the day anyway).
And so one day he realised that you were wonderful when you laughed at his jokes. That the smell of your perfume made him hungrier than the baked goods that spread from the bakery he passed by every day on his way to the Academy. That he was missing something as he basked in the glow of your attention. That he would like you to be with him at all times, not only within the walls of the Academy, cafes (he never ordered himself anything, trying to stop his stomach from growling as he watched you eat the cake, occasionally offering him a bite), or the park. That he would like to have you completely to himself and hide you from the eyes of other people who, in his opinion, were not worthy of an ounce of your attention.
He remembered snapping at Festus when he asked him if you were seeing anyone. As if Coriolanus' claim about you wasn't obvious enough to him.
Although you also remained blind to his obvious feelings, which Sejanus said were as visible as an approaching change in the weather in the Rocky Mountains. By the way, he wondered when Sejanus would forget those catchphrases from District 2. They were very tiring and boring to listen to.
But Snow decided to let you stay in the dark for a little longer and admire you in silence, from his place next to you as your best friend. He promised himself that when he won the Plinth Prize, he would conquer not only the world but you and your heart. After all, he couldn't imagine anyone else being his First Lady than you.
He knew that his fascination with you was gradually turning into an unhealthy obsession. But what else could he do when you took his breath away just by existing? And Coryo wasn't used to not having control over his emotions. But with you... you could do whatever you wanted with him. And he was terrified, both by the fact that you had such power over him and by the fact that you were completely unaware of it.
However, everything was going according to his plan. He stayed by your side, guarding you like a gardener's dog and waiting for the moment when he would finally be worthy of you and make you his. And you seemed to obediently dismiss every admirer.
Until the 10th Hunger Games came along.
And a certain district boy stole too much of your attention for Coriolanus' liking. After all, you were HIS. Even if you didn't know about it yet.
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"Hello, petal." He whispers in your ear, walking up to you from behind.
Surprised, you choke on the champagne you drank in secret from your parents and other participants in the reaping party at the Academy. He smiles in amusement, gently patting your back and discreetly placing the glass of champagne on the table for you.
"Coriolanus Snow, someday I'll put a fucking bell around your neck like my mother's cats have." You say, coughing. He laughs softly, offering you his arm, which you take once you've recovered.
"I thought you considered it brutal?" He replies sarcastically, glancing at the dress you were in, which hugged your curves perfectly.
A white dress that Tigris made for you 'coincidentally' matched perfectly with the outfit he was currently wearing. He had never been more proud of his cousin than he was now.
"I'm surprised that you think you're on an equal footing with my cats. You're no match for them, Snow." He rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smirk a little at your laugh.
"We will see." You snorted at that. You notice Sejanus in the crowd talking to his parents.
"I'll go say hello." You say, nodding towards Sejanus. But before you can take a step towards him, Coryo's grip on you tightens. You give him a questioning look, focusing your gaze on him.
"Stay with me. You know I don't like talking to them all by myself. Especially with Arachne. Sejan will be joining us soon." You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, but you don't try to fight his grip or let go of his arm as he leads you towards the group of your classmates.
"I spoil you too much, Snow."
"Nonsense, you could do better." You laugh in amusement, and he smiles at the sound of that.
But his good mood and relaxed demeanour quickly turned into a stoic expression. You feel him tense slightly and straighten, as if preparing for a fight, when you approach your classmates.
"Snow and Y/L/N. As always, together. You could finally make up your mind, darling, and choose one of them instead of hanging around him and Plinth." Arachne greets you, as always, nicely, at which you laugh artificially.
"Why should I when I can have both?" You reply with a shrug, making some of them laugh. However, you are most pleased with Arachne's grimace and the small smile on Coryo's lips.
"Usually it's the district girls who act like whores." You feel Coryo tense next to you, his eyes turning a cold, icy shade as he stares at the girl in front of you. If looks could kill, Coryo would become a serial killer. However, he could certainly make someone feel insecure and intimidated.
"Usually inheritance hunters don't complete their education and end up marrying some rich fool at the earliest opportunity, even before they turn 18. And yet here you are, Arachnie. I think that makes us both surprised then." You reply before Coryo can react. Festus shakes his head and stares at the both of you in amusement as you sinisterly glare at each other.
"Ladies, why all these quarrels? We already know who Y/N will end up with."
"And who is it, Festus?"
"Me." You shake your head at that, amused. However, Coryo, standing next to you, doesn't share your humor. He pulls you slightly closer to him, giving you a fleeting glance before focusing on Festus.
"For now, she's not on your shoulder, Creed."
"Enjoy it while you can, Snow. We'll see how things go when we enrol in university." You see Coriolanus tighten his jaw at his remark. You squeeze his arm slightly tighter, making him shift his gaze to you. You smile as he relaxes slightly under your attention.
"You made it to the graduation, Festus. You shouldn't set higher expectations for yourself than that." Sejan's voice echoes behind you. You snorted in amusement and turned around in Coryo's embrace; somehow you managed to get out of them enough to wrap your arms around your friend. "Y/N. You look as beautiful as always. Arachne, who are you trying to fool with this white outfit?" You hide your face behind Coryo's shoulder, trying to hold back a burst of laughter.
You feel Sejanus wrapping his arm around you. Now, you are held by your two friends, and the one with the lighter hair is definitely unhappy about having to share you with Plinth, but you are not able to notice it since the reaping is finally starting.
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A murmur of women's whispers echoed throughout the room as a very handsome man emerged from the crowd. You leaned forward slightly, taking a closer look at the tall, athletic, and chiselled man with tanned skin and bronze hair.
With just one look into his stunning sea-green eyes and after seeing the huge, charming smile he sent for the cameras, you knew that whoever got this man was going to be the winner. Because no tribute ever made as much money from sponsors as a sinfully hot man usually did.
And this one was a special sight for the eyes. The reaction of most of the female part of the room and the jealous and furious looks of the men at the reaction of their other halves confirmed your suspicions.
"This boy from 4 belongs to Miss Y/N Y/L/N."
You licked your lips, smiling wolfishly, and watched your tribute on the screen. You were so lucky.
"You damn lucky dog." Persephone whispers in your ear and slaps your shoulder playfully. You give her a half-smile and shrug as the cameramen spend a little more time showing your tribute.
"What can I say... maybe I'll only attract hot men from now on? I hope his muscles aren't just for good looks, because that would be a shame." She shakes her head at your words, holding back a laugh. You smile and involuntarily glance at Coriolanus.
He immediately looks away from you. His jaw is set, and his leg bounces slightly. Anyone else would think he was relaxed and calm. But you knew him too well to assume that.
He was already nervous the moment Clem took your seat, and you were forced to sit in the second row, away from him. Coriolanus doesn't like it. He would rather hold your hand, feel the warmth of your body close to yours, and smell the faint scent of your perfume than sneak glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on you.
Sometimes he knows he can be painfully obvious, but he thanks fate for at least being kind enough to keep you unaware of his feelings for you. He would have you. Just not yet. First, his tribute had to win the damn Hunger Games so he could win Plinth's prize. Then he could make his move without fear of you discovering his family's financial situation. Finally, snow lands on top. And he spent many sleepless nights imagining that he would land on top of you.
You catch his gaze, but you don't have time to analyse his attitude. After a while, Lucy Gray appears on the screen, and you see that your handsome guy will have some competition for the Capitol's favour.
And the possible competition with your best friend makes you feel very uncomfortable. So much so that you don't notice the hateful glare Coriolanus shot at your tribute as the operators once again showed off the likenesses of this year's tributes.
Finnick Odair. A new obstacle in his plan that he had to eliminate. And not just to win the Hunger Games...
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You haven't spoken to Coryo since then. Which was an extremely strange phenomenon because you were usually attached to each other at the hip.
Although you had seen him briefly during classes and now, when most of the mentors had gathered around the cage at the zoo to find their tributes and give them something to eat or drink, he didn't even spare you a second glance as he was fully focused on Lucy Gray.
Something was wrong with him.
Especially after his little stunt at the train station and his conversation with Dr. Gaul. Because of which, now (and mainly because of Sejanus' statement), you stand nervously near the bars, looking for your tribute.
And you couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Hunger Games were for. The more you thought about it, the more you started to side with Sejanus.
The First Rebellion may have done you great harm, but was it any wonder that the people of the district rebelled? After all, if any of you were born outside the Capitol, you would probably do what they did. So what was the point of murdering 23 of the young unfortunates who had been singled out for slaughter?
“You seem lost.” A voice next to you pulls you from your thoughts. You turn around, seeing your tribute leaning against the bars and watching you carefully. If he was hot on TV, he looked gorgeous in real life. His cheekbones and jaws look like they had been carved with chisels by the best of the artists. And his eyes... you wonder how such men could be born and live in any district. "Unless you're looking for something. Or someone, if I may boldly assume."
"Y/N Y/L/N. Your mentor." You say, reaching your hand out towards him through the bars. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. You can't help but notice how soft his lips are against your skin. You blush slightly, and you can almost feel Flickerman's eyes and cameras behind you.
"I figured it out. Fate must be a little kind to me after all. Giving me the most beautiful of mentors as my guardian angel."
"You'll be able to say that when you win the Hunger Games." You reply, taking your hand from his and pulling food and drink out of your bag for him.
"When?" He asks, taking the cookie from you and immediately biting into it. That view is squeezing you with sadness, seeing how hungry he is. Despite everything, he still carries himself with grace and is extremely charming. You hope that the cameras will show him often. "How can you be so sure?"
"You are handsome. You attract women's attention. If you maintain that charming attitude of yours, you will probably earn quite a lot of money with those pretty eyes and smile. At least enough to not die of hunger or dehydration in the arena." You reply, searching for something else in your bag.
"Under different circumstances, I would be grateful for so many compliments, angel." You look up, meeting his gaze. And something inside you tells you that, in fact, if the circumstances were different, you would be talking about something completely different right now... or doing something much more enjoyable.
"When you win, who knows? Once a tribute stayed in the Capitol after winning." You say, handing him your cousin's old white sweater that he found in the closet.
"Sorry, honey, but I doubt I'd want to stay in the Capitol. Even for such a nice view." He says this, unabashedly taking off the slightly torn and dirty shirt he was wearing.
He soaks it in the water you gave him and rinses himself off, putting on a show for the entire Capitol audience to watch thanks to the cameras trained on him and the people in the zoo. You lick your lips, trying not to openly stare at the muscles on his chest and act rude (or, in this case, like a horny teenager).
"You're behind bars." You clear your throat, reminding him that there are probably no good views from the cage. You took the courage to look him in the eyes again only after he got dressed.
"And I look at a beautiful girl, what more could I want?"
You laugh loudly and honestly at this. He joins you, and the other mentors and the rest of the tributes look at you like you're crazy. You're too busy looking at the handsome man in front of you to notice Coryo giving him a dagger glare and clenching her fists in anger.
But Lucy Gray does it.
And she perfectly recognises jealousy in the eyes of others. Especially pure anger and the beginnings of forming a plan for revenge. After all, that's how she ended up here.
The day before reaping, Mayfair Lipp had a similar look in her eyes.
Which makes her come to the conclusion that maybe her mentor isn't as good a person as she initially assumed.
"Excuse me for a moment." Snow mutters to her as he walks towards the two of you, leaving her to the children who came to look at her dress.
You and Finnick chat casually about things completely unrelated to Games. Coriolanus notices that the boy from the district reached through the bars for your hand, showing you different lines on it, probably doing some trick or foretelling stupid things.
But what added fuel to Snow's anger was the fact that, in addition to the district's underdog daring to touch you, he also made your face blush. Something Coriolanus has never managed to do.
"Y/N." He says, interrupting the conversation between the two of you. Seeing that he is watching you, you move away from the boy, calming down his anger a little. "We have to get back to the Academy. We have another class soon."
"Oh. Yes." you say, the disappointment is very audible in your voice, which makes him even more angry and jealous.
Why on earth would this piece of trash from the district deserve your attention, or maybe even affection, when Coriolanus was standing right next to you?
"I'll be back again. If you need anything, I'll get it for you." You say, giving a soft smile to your tribute. Coryo almost growls in anger, knowing full well that this worm doesn't deserve your kindness.
"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry too much." He replies with his charming smirk, making Coryo want to impale his head through the metal wires of his cage.
He wraps his hand around your waist and catches your gaze as he nods towards the exit of the zoo. Taking advantage of your moment of distraction as you watch Arachne torment her tribute, Coriolanus gives your tribute a cold look and squeezes your waist a little tighter. Odair looks at him impassively, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells Snow that the boy got the hint.
No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch you like Coryo was doing right now.
Coryo shouldn't be concerned about a boy from the district, especially one who competed in the Hunger Games, but he couldn't just let that bastard flirt with HIS girl.
Your terrified gasp brings him out of his thoughts. He automatically places his hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and looking around for whatever scared you. And she sees Arachne's tribute grab her by the neck and pull her towards her, holding a broken bottle in her other hand.
He feels you try to break free from his grip, but instead of letting you go and running towards Arachne and her tribute, he spins you around and presses your face into his chest just as Arachne's neck pierces the glass of the bottle.
He feels you tremble in his arms, hearing the screams and shots of the Peacekeepers, who open fire too late and kill the crazy girl from the district.
"You're safe. Nothing will happen to you. Not with me." He whispers to you as he feels your tears soak his shirt, and he falls even more in love with you, seeing you cry even for a bitch like Arachne.
He places a kiss on the top of your head and leads you out of the zoo and to your car. He glances briefly at Lucy Gray to make sure they didn't shoot her by accident. He angrily accepts that your tribute is also unharmed.
He feels a little better, though, when he sees how your tribute shoots a jealous, angry glare at him, holding you close to his chest. And Coriolanus can't help but wink arrogantly at him.
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"Focus." You tell the tribute in front of you as you discuss plans to build the Arena with him. Finnick, however, prefers to play with the bracelet on your wrist.
"Rose quartz. You know you don't get things like that from just anyone?" He asks, examining the stone. You remove your wrist from his grasp and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.
"My friend gave me this."
"That creepy blonde? Adorable. If he took his eyes off you for more than 5 seconds."
You roll your eyes at him and turn your gaze away from him to glance at Coryo. He's talking to, or rather listening to, Lucy Gray as he stares blankly at the pen and paper in front of him. He senses your gaze and turns around. You give him a soft smile, and he nods at you and goes back to listening to his tribute.
"Coryo doesn't like being alone among people he doesn't trust or know. And after yesterday, he's… more caring. It's natural."
"And does this Coryo of yours often give you old bracelets with a stone symbolising love?" You frown, examining the bracelet he gave you for your 18th birthday.
"It belonged to his mother. He probably thought it was pretty and that's why he gave it to me. It does not mean anything." You explain to him, at which he just shakes his head in disbelief, apparently not trusting in the good intentions of your friend. You want to go back to discussing your arena survival plan with him, but he won't let you say a word.
"Hmm... if I hadn't been chosen in the reaping and we had met under different circumstances, and if I were rich, I would have given you a necklace with pearls and pieces of angelite."
"Why?" You ask curiously, hoping that once he says what he wants, you two will go back to discussing plans. But you wonder how the hell he knows the meaning of the stones.
"Pearls are a symbol of wisdom, calmness, integrity, and serenity. They also remind me of the ocean. How old fishermen told us stories about beautiful sirens who attracted them by singing."
"Like Lucy Gray?" You ask with a smirk, thinking he might like the female tribute.
"I was thinking of another beauty." He says his fingertips are brushing against yours as much as the cuffs on his wrists would allow.
You blush when he flirts with you. You can't say that it bothers you or that you are indifferent. After all, he was very handsome. You don't see Coryo frown, staring daggers at the place where your hands lightly brush against each other.
"What about angelite? Why it?"
"It's a kind of peaceful crystal. Some believe that it helps to bring a guardian angel closer to you. After being chosen in the reaping... I wasn't quite at peace. And then I looked at you, and somehow..." He pauses, staring at your hands. You grab his hands tight, making his sea-green eyes look back into yours in surprise at your sudden gesture.
"I promise I will do everything in my power to make you survive this. You don't have to trust me, but trust in this."
"Because you want the prize?" He asks suspiciously, and you shake your head with a slight chuckle. You're not surprised that he's distrustful. After all, most mentors had this in mind. The prize. Not a human life that was in their hands.
"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like you dying in the arena." You admit it. You unconsciously lean into each other as you stroke your fingers over the back of his hand, drawing little patterns on it.
"Someone like me? Underdog from the district?"
"A handsome man with a good heart. Do not look at me like this. I saw you sharing water and food with that sick little girl—Dill and the other one... Wovey I think? You are a good man, Finncik Odair." You say with confidence.
His eyes light up for a moment, and for the first time, you see his real, unforced, warm smile. He didn't play the charming boy. Not this time.
"I guess that makes two of us, angel. I saw someone giving her medicine last night and extra food. I doubt it was their mentors."
"I have no idea what you are talking about." You both laugh at your answer. And somehow you can't help but blush—the flutter in your stomach that's caused by the way he looks at you and that damn beautiful, genuine smile—that's nothing compared to his charming façade.
Someone's burning gaze focused on you, which you feel on your temple, makes you let go of the tribute's hand, embarrassed. You look around discreetly, noticing Coryo's cold gaze that makes you shiver. He's never looked at you like that... at least not in your direction. It takes you a few seconds to realise that his gaze isn't on you at all, but on the man sitting across from you.
"Can you get me a trident? And some nets?"
"Trident?" You ask distractedly, making a note of his request anyway.
"To the arena. To put on a show and collect more donations." You nod, your thoughts fully returning to Finnick. You tell yourself that you're making something up. After all, Coryo is just your friend.
"I'll see what I can do. You also need to think about what you will do on tomorrow's TV appearance." You remind him, writing down in your notebook the things you should provide him with before he goes on air. Maybe a suit? You're sure he'd look drop-dead handsome in it on stage.
"I have already got some idea. You'll probably like it." He replies with an arrogant smirk, causing you to giggle, which, for some strange reason, you're unable to hold back. His smirk widens.
"Y/N. Can I take you away for a moment?" Coryo's voice and the fact that he's right behind you surprise you. You didn't notice him sneaking up until he spoke. You wonder how many times he has managed to do this without your knowledge.
"Go, angel. I'll see you tomorrow at the arena." Finnick says, giving you another of his trademark smirks. You nod to him and accept Coryo's hand as he helps you up. He takes your bag from you, and you both walk out.
You go with him as his emotional support to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He tells you enthusiastically about his new ideas for the Hunger Games and how the woman was interested in them, but you only half-listen, your thoughts still with Finnick. And Coriolanus doesn't like it that you so brazenly ignore what he says.
"You two are rather close." He says, getting your attention. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, not understanding who he was talking about. "You and your tribute."
"We are. It's my job to take care of him."
"You do it rather willingly and with a smile on your face." He remarks with a strange tone of voice. You stop and frown at him, not understanding what his problem is.
"Are you suggesting something?"
"No. No. Not at all. I'm just warning you. People are talking."
"They always talk." You snap at him, furious that he's playing that card. He lectures you as if you were a little child and did something wrong. Besides, who cared? You could flirt with anyone you wanted.
"Y/N. He's just a district boy. I don't want your reputation to suffer just because… you see him as a human being."
"Are you serious? He IS a human being. Like each one of them." You say, angry at him for even saying such a thing.
"You sound like Sejanus." He says it coldly, giving you an unreadable look. You don't know what he's thinking, but you know by the way his jaw is set and his hand is nervously playing with the strap of his bag that it's not good. And you wonder. Because Sejan is your friend after all. And he was also a district boy.
"Maybe because he's right." You respond to his remark by crossing your arms and staring at him defiantly, tilting your chin slightly upward.
"Are you really going to let some district scumbag ruin your career and future? Everything you've worked for so far? They hate us, Y/N. Each one of them. Behind that charming smile of his, there is a devil who gossips about you and laughs at your naivety behind your back."
"They are not monsters, Coriolanus."
The use of his full name makes him flinch. You see it and immediately regret not using his diminutive, but that's okay. You were incredibly frustrated and angry that he thought the way Dr. Gaul and the rest of the rich snobs of Panem did. That he didn't see these people as... people. People like you were.
"They killed my father, and because of the rebellion 10 years ago, my mother and sister, whom I never got to know, are dead, and they might have been alive if those district rats hadn't turned the Capitol into a battlefield. You, Tigris, and my grandmother are all I have left. And I won't let anything happen to you or anyone take you away from me." He bursts out, keeping his voice cool, but you can clearly see the storm of emotions in his icy eyes.
"I'm not going anywhere, Coryo. The rebellion is over. We are safe. But they are not." You decide to back out of the argument with him.
"They don't deserve to be safe. Not after what they did to us, petal."
You don't say anything at his words. You just sigh and go to hug him.
He relaxes a little in your arms, wrapping himself around you just as tightly as you wrap around him. You are enveloped in his warmth and the delicate scent wafting from the rose he had pinned to his red jacket.
You know how Coryo suffered and how he sought an outlet for his pain. And you can't be surprised that he blamed the people of the district for his family's fate. That he hated them... but you didn't know how deep that hatred had grown inside him.
And how much it had grown the moment he found out from Lucy Gray that you had promised to make sure Odair won.
When he found out you chose that district boy above him in The Hunger Games, he fully understood what Dr. Gaul wanted him to say when she asked him about the meaning of the games.
Now he had to make sure that HE would become THE VICTOR. And not the underdog from 4 who tried to steal HIS woman.
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"I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finnick asks with that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees as you both walk around the arena.
You blush slightly, remembering last night.
"Here. Put this somewhere and change it when we get back from the arena. Then you two will be on TV." You tell him, handing him a bag of clothes through the bars. It is midnight. You shouldn't be here, and you might as well have given it to him in the morning, but... something pulled you to him. "If you are as charming as usual, you will win the hearts of the audience." You say, not knowing that he only cares about ONE heart.
"You're too good, angel. But I have something for you too." he says that and hands you a small bundle. You frown at him.
"I… I shouldn't…" You say, surprised, but he pushes the bundle into your hands anyway.
You look at him in a daze for a moment and unwrap the fabric. You gasp when you see the necklace. It is an ordinary black leather strap with a silver pendant with a fish that swallows its tail, thus creating a circle shape. There was a tiny pearl inside.
"If I were a rich man, I would give you something else... as a souvenir. But I'm not... but I really wanted for you to have something that will remind you of me. Please say something, or I might start talking nonsense that we'll both regret later and..."
You silence him by leaning in and kissing him through the bars. It's a gentle kiss, as tender as the tiny passage between the bars allows, but somehow he manages to grab your hand and cup your cheek carefully, brushing your skin with his thumb.
You feel tears welling up as you think about what it might have been like in another life, where there were no divisions into better and worse districts and the Hunger Games would never have existed... but this small moment stolen in the night between you two will have to be enough. That gentle brushing of your lips.
"No. Not at all. Do you already know what you're going to do on TV?" You ask, changing the subject, trying to keep from blushing as the two of you walk around the arena while you make mental notes of the best places to escape.
"Yes. I will recite a poem. Or, rather, a song. I will not compete with our dear Lucy Gray, and I will not sing. Want to hear?"
"Sure." You reply with a shrug, completely unprepared for what he had in store.
He clears his throat. He catches your eye and begins with a tone of voice so velvety and pleasant to the ear that it's impossible for you to perceive anything other than him. And certainly not the way your blonde friend was staring daggers at you with clenched fists, ignoring the scared look Lucy Gray was throwing his way.
"We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet."
You shiver as he finishes. He was only a small step away from you as he inched closer with each line he spoke, never taking his eyes off you. You are speechless. All you can do is look him in the eyes, watching as he gently brushes away your hair from your eyes.
"It's... it's beautiful. Did you write it?" You ask, snapping out of your daze.
"No. No, I don't. I believe this is 'My tears richochet' by Taylor Swift."
"Taylor Swift?" You repeat it stupidly, swallowing and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart that aches with the desire to kiss him. You know you can't. Not in the light of day. Never in plain sight. And it hurt you that you wanted a man who could never be yours.
"In another life, I would be a London boy." You laugh with him about it. Suddenly he looks around seriously, and when he sees that Coriolanus is the only one watching you, he takes a step towards you and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You're... I didn't expect anyone in the Capitol to have a heart. And certainly not as pure as yours, my sweet angel."
You shiver, unable to move away from him.
He leans down and steals you a quick but more passionate kiss than the first you two had shared under the cover of the night. His hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head as he opens your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moan. Common sense screams at you to step away, but you can't. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you, stealing another moment with him as he pushes you against a pillar, hiding you from anyone's view.
Before anyone can notice that you two have disappaired, there's a loud bang in the arena. You scream as you feel a warm gust of air make you fall onto your back. The combined scream of both Coryo and Finnick's calling your name and the pounding of your head is the last thing you hear and feel before you pass out.
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Consciousness comes back to you very slowly. At first, you think you're dead, but the ringing in your ears and headache wouldn't be symptoms of a dead person on the other side.
That's why you open your eyes slowly and very reluctantly.
You hiss as the light from the hospital lamp hits your eyes. You cover them with your hand when suddenly you feel another one on yours.
"Everything's fine, petal. You are safe with me. Move slowly, take your time."
"Coryo?" You ask, pushing both your and his hands away from your eyes as you narrow them at him. You sigh with relief and hug the blonde, who is also in a hospital gown. You managed to notice a few scratches on his face before you cuddled up to him shakily.
"Shh... it's okay, my petal. Your parents were here. They waited through the entire surgery, and when the doctor told them you were stable, they went home to get clothes for you. They should be back here soon. Together with Tgiris and Sejanus."
"Surgery?" You ask in surprise, only now feeling the grip of the bandages on your head.
"They put a few stitches on your head. Fortunately, it wasn't as deep a wound as we thought it was. You scared me. And the others." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you... like a snake.
"The arena... Finnick. Is he alive? What happened? Where is Finnick?" You panicked, moving away from him and ignoring his more affectionate than usual gestures. All you can think about is a district boy that you have grown to... to love in these few days when you got a chance to know him.
You don't see the anger rising in Coriolanus's eyes, nor do you recognise his fake tone as he pretends to be concerned. You're more concerned, scared, and distraught that you don't feel the weight of Finnick's necklace around your neck.
"He is dead. I'm sorry for your tribute, my petal." He says, slowly stroking your bare arms.
From the side, it looked like he wanted to comfort you, but he was only doing it because he wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. Enjoy his reward. As well as that snow lands on top.
"What?" You ask in shock, not feeling his touch at all. Your world stopped. As if it were dying. You don't feel anything. Nothing at all.
"There was an attack of rebels. He didn't survive." He repeats it more emphatically, watching you carefully.
"No... no..." You shake your head, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Tears that you don't even try to hold back. Just as your whole body trembles.
"It's not your fault, honey. You did an excellent job as a mentor. It could have happened to anyone."
"You do not understand! This isn't about stupid games! This is about him! About human life! How can you be so selfish and myopic?!”
You shout angrily, slapping your hands against his chest. Your tears are blurring any vision; you're still weak from the surgery, so when you get tired, he pulls you into his arms and presses your head to his chest, rubbing your back as you cry into him.
Into a man who took the opportunity to get rid of the inconvenience of your tribute. Along with the necklace he gave you. Coriolanus was furious when he saw it on your neck as he carried you out after pushing Odair right into the spot where, a second later, a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling.
Once again, Coriolanus' perceptiveness worked to his advantage.
And now you were his. Only his. He made sure there were no traces of Finnick Odair left. After all, his First Lady couldn't be sullied by a district boy.
"Don't cry over him. We are all we need anyway, my little petal." He whispers against your skin as he kisses away your tears.
You're too busy mourning your tribute and too drugged to do anything. So he uses this to his advantage and fucks your face with kisses before finally leaning in to taste your lips.
He moans into your mouth, not caring about the slightly salty taste of your tears, and gently wraps his hand around your neck. You mumble something into his mouth, pressing your hand against his chest to push him away.
But he doesn't give up. He sits you on his lap and places kisses on your neck. You gasp, clinging to him. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you once again. He lifts your hands and makes you tangle them in his hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in until your chests are pressed together.
He ignores Lucy Gray's singing echoing through the private room in the hospital your parents bought for you to get better and holds you close to his chest, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, and neck—everywhere his greedy, eager mouth can reach.
You can't move. Because of the drugs they drugged you with, so you can't feel pain, or because you don't want to move, you don't know yet. In some strange way, the feeling of closeness comforts you, and your stupid brain and heart try to trick you into thinking it's right. After all, Coryo saved you, and he always saved you. He was always there for you. Always close to you. Unconsciously, you start kissing him back. He moans contentedly, rubbing himself against you.
He refrains from doing anything more and pushes you off of him, keeping your head on his shoulder and his arms around you as he places small kisses on your temple and tenderly, occasionally reaching up to kiss your lips as the painkiller drip he unscrews a little makes you melt and surrender completely to him.
He holds you as you fall asleep in his arms, thinking about how he can make sure his songbird wins. He reduced her competition anyway by hastening Odair's death, but he must be sure that he wins Plinth's prize so he can finally claim you fully for himself. He wouldn't endure another district boy near you.
Coriolanus knew that hope was dangerous. Love was fatal and destructive if you didn't control the one you cared for. And jealousy... jealousy brought out people's primal, animal instincts.
Just like the Hunger Games.
He looks at your sleeping, peaceful form, and he presses a kiss on your lips. He smiles, seeing how cuddled up to him you were and how you were in need of his warmth and touch, of the security he provided and will always provide for you. You were worth every sin. His petal. His little angel. His future First Lady and mother of his children. He will adore you. You'd forget about this district underdog once he won; he was sure of it.
After all, he was the only victor Panem could have.
1K notes · View notes
littlemissmiller · 4 months ago
Text
Bird in a Cage
Part 2: Wanted and Needed
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Pairing: dark!coriolanus x fem!reader
Summary: after spending another night in the palace, president snow has many things planned for you, and he just loves to dress you up.
Warning: 21+ (drinking), eventually smut, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping, obsession, possession, stalking
Word count: 4.2k
A/N: hello 👋🏼 ok so…i think i may be able to get another fic out today im thinking chapter 4 of Summer Highs will be ready today sooo just hang in there. this series however, the heat is turning up and we definitely got a smutty moment coming up (also im still working still The Shopkeeper’s Daughter part 2 y’all I promise I’ll get it done) so enjoy this one y’all, i know i did ❤︎︎
Series Masterlist
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The next morning you realize that you must have fallen asleep in the bathroom as you pull yourself up from the cold tile. Your neck and back hurts and you strain to turn it. You slowly get up and walk back into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed. You curl up, wanting to go back to sleep again, but you hear a knock that jolts you up.
“Yes?”
The same maid from last night enters. She’s holding a new outfit in her hand.
“Good morning. President Snow wishes to see you in this today. He also wishes to have you join him for breakfast so please change and knock when you’re done.”
“Tell him I didn’t sleep well last night and I want to rest. Please.” You plea
“I’m sorry, but these are my orders.” She frowns, holding the dress out in front of her.
You take it and hold it up. It’s a delicate blue, almost the same color as his eyes. It’s flowy, the shoulders slightly puffed out and the neckline is off the shoulder. She also hands you a pair of white heels and leaves the room. You want to cry again, but feel too physically exhausted to be able to. You begrudgingly roll out of bed and change.
Once all done up, you walk over to the door and knock on it. The maid and the two armed guards are waiting outside and you walk with them. This time they take you to a separate part of the palace, up the stairs and into a larger dining room. As you walk you take note of your surroundings, and continue plotting how you’re going to get out of here without him knowing. You might have to disappear for a while, but you’re not about to let him rip you from your life completely.
When you enter, he’s waiting, alone, sipping his tea and reading the paper. He glances up and smiles.
“Come sit my dear.“
The maid leaves, but the armed guards take their post just outside the room. You slowly walk towards and take the seat across from him.
“You look beautiful. I know how to dress you well, it seems.”
“Is this what you made the other girls wear?”
“No.” He flips the page “I tailor my outfits accordingly for each of you.”
“So what does that mean?”
“That dress, that black set? It’s yours. Anything I give you under my care is yours forever, understand?”
“Yes, President Snow.”
“Good girl. After lunch today I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and I’ll have my masseuse come see you.”
“W-why?” You scrunch your face up
“Because you need it don’t you. You slept on the bathroom floor all night.” He smiles
“Thank you.” You mumble, shyly looking away
“You truly look gorgeous this morning. I should have one of the maids curl your hair before you change for dinner this evening.”
“You want me to change again?”
“Of course my dear. One should always look as presentable as possible when they have an evening meal with guests.”
“I normally only do it for special events.” You speak up
“And dinner with the president isn’t special?” He smirks, turning the page again.
You watch him as an uncomfortable silence washes into the room. Then a few avoxes walk into the room with silver trays. Coriolanus pays them no mind, but is interested in what they contain under the stainless steel cloche. They first lay out the silverware, then lift it and serve the plates. It’s a perfectly made French omelette , topped off with chives and a small pad of butter that is still melting, with crumbled crispy potatoes sprinkled over the whole thing. Next to it sits a small slice of toast with a raspberry jam. They then sat down a tea kettle, two silver teacups and served them steaming black tea. Lastly, they leave a pitcher of orange juice and two short glasses. They quietly exit the room and Coriolanus stirs his tea before sipping it.
You look down at your plate then glance up at him. He folds the paper up, making sure the edges are crisp and clean. He notices you watching him and gives a devilish half smile.
“You can start eating if you want.”
You nod and take a bite. Immediately you can taste how smooth and creamy it is. You can taste the ingredients piped inside, an herbed goat cheese and it melts in your mouth. You savor the taste, loving the texture of the egg as it dances with the cheese. Coriolanus takes it upon himself to pour you some juice and you have a strange urge to apologize. You set down your fork and try to say sorry but he cuts you off.
“It’s ok. I don’t mind my dear, here.” He utters
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Good girl.” He whispers as you take the glass to your lips.
“So what’s after breakfast?”
“I have a meeting with the Game Makers, a more formal welcome to the new additions than a fancy gala, and you’ll be modeling those dresses I was telling you about.”
“I thought that was just a lie you told my family.”
“Not entirely. You are a model by trade after all, no?”
“I am”
“Well, we need models for this year’s games to advertise the upcoming looks and you’re a model. Seems pretty straightforward no?”
“So you just want me to play dress up for you all day then?” You question, raising an eyebrow
He gives you a stern look and cocks his head. He scoffs.
“Don’t have such an attitude, my dear. It’s not fitting for a First Lady.”
You sit wordless for a moment, scared but also pissed. Fuck him. Fuck this First Lady shit. You desperately wanted to tell him off, but you utter a small apology.
“Good. It won’t even take up your entire day, I made sure of that. After my meeting, I expect you to join me for lunch. I think you’ll like it.”
“Why is that?”
“I asked to have it be served to us in the garden. I thought I’d show you around after.”
“Around the garden?”
“Yes.” He states simply “Are you enjoying your omelette?” He asks, taking a bite of his own.
“It’s delicious. Everything you’ve served me has been amazing.” You state truthfully
“I’m glad you think so.” He smiles, then he holds out his hand. You look at it and he turns his palm over. You hesitantly place just your fingertips on top of his hand. He grasps it and pulls it forward, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. He rubs them gently, smiling at you.
“You’re so beautiful. I hope to make you mine.”
“Why do you think I will please you?”
“Hmm, I bet you don’t remember meeting me at the Gala?”
“N-no?”
He smiles wider, scanning your face to see if you remember anything at all from that night.
Coriolanus goes on to explain how he first saw you and how he approached you, asking you to join his private table. You of course said yes, so he took you by the hand and led you to his group. You sat with him, he gave you lots of wine, and eventually he sent you “home”, allegedly kissing your cheek as he got you into the car, and sent you off to his house. At some point he had indeed drugged your drink and you woke up in the palace instead. You hadn’t woken up the next day, but instead spent two days asleep, the power of the drugs had lured you into a deep sleep, and now you’re having breakfast with him.
“I have your dress from that night by the way. It looked stunning on your body. Red is a great color on you.”
“Thank you”
“Perhaps I’ll have you wear it tonight, to dinner. What do you think, my lovely?”
“I would like to have my dress back.”
“Of course. Like I said, whatever I give you is yours.”
“Well the dress was already mine.” You snicker
You immediately freeze, realizing your tongue may have gotten the best if you, but he merely reciprocates your actions.
“You can’t help but to be such a clever girl hmm?” He kisses your knuckles again
“If you say so. You didn’t answer my question though. Why do you think I’ll please you?”
“Because you were pleasant that night. Funny, charming, easy to be around. My team believes I’ve become too wild and rambunctious. They say I need to settle down and to an extent, I agree. I can’t help but want to enjoy my wealth these days. While I’m still young I don't care, if you understand me?”
You nod along and he continues.
“I figure, most people show who they really are when they meet me. Whether it’s to impress me or win over my favor, I can always see a person’s true intentions. Through whatever facade they come with, I can see their truth.”
“And did you see me then? What was my front?”
“Nothing. You had nothing to hide.” He leans forward “Which is why I find you so special.” He whispers
He rubs your hand, giving your knuckles one last kiss before letting your hand go. You pull it back quickly and relax it on your lap. Then a small ding ding ding cries out from his pocket. He digs around and retrieves his pocket watch. He raises his eyebrows.
“Ah, I have to go my dear!” He claims as he returns the watch back into his jacket. He stands up and moves to stand behind your chair. He places his hands on your shoulders and massages them.
“I’ll see you for lunch.” He bends down to kiss your cheek “and then for dinner.” He kisses you again “be good today my sweets, I have something for you later if you behave. Will you be ok to dine alone for the rest of breakfast?”
You nod and he tilts your face to look at his. With the smallest touch of his forefinger, he lifts your chin so you look at him fully. Coriolanus gives you a curious frown and you know what he wants.
“Yes, President Snow, I’ll be ok to dine alone.”
“Good girl, the maid will escort you to get ready when you’re done, but take your time.”
He smirks, giving your cheek one last kiss. He squeezes your shoulders, sighs, smirks again to himself, and walks away.
You feel as if you can finally breathe, letting out an immense sigh of relief as you hear the door close. You look down at your food and don’t feel like you can realistically finish it. You stand up and knock on the door. The maid opens it and escorts you out. She takes you through the palace, not taking you back to your room.
“Where are we going?” You inquire
“The lounge, that’s where the photo shoot is happening.”
You follow her, still noting the layout of the palace as you walk around. You finally reach a set of tall double doors and the maid opens it, escorting you inside. The room is similar to his office, same crème walls, accented with gold, red Chesterfield lounge chairs
“Ah wonderful!” A man cries out as you enter the room. He’s holding a camera in one hand the other setting up the tripod stand for it to sit on. “Come in dear!” He states enthusiastically. You look around the room and notice several other people getting things together.
“H-hi” you quiver
“The President said you’re a model by trade?”
“I am”
“Splendid! Then I’ll have you change into that first dress on the rack and will move our way down.”
He points to a rack of dress and a room divider in the corner and you nod. You walk over to it and examine the dresses. It seems like they are for District 12, given they are all gray and black. Coal. Of course Snow would want the contestants to dress like this. Parade them around a bit as the very goods that are used to fuel the capital. Almost as a double reminder of who they serve. You look at the first dress. It’s a corset style top with a short length skirt. Around the bottom was a thin layer of black tulle. You take it and step behind the divider to change. You step out and a woman approaches you.
“Beautiful! Let’s fix up your hair and makeup.” She smiles, escorting you over to a vanity.
After about an hour of hair weaving and being all done up like a doll, she shows you a mirror. She’s weaved your hair into several small braids, which she then weaved into a big, ponytail, that sits directly in the top of your head. Your makeup is a clean smoky eye, and you honestly look sexy.
“Ok so it’s very simple just posing with the chairs and other parts of the room.” She explains and walks back over to the camera man.
“Ok my dear let’s have you lay out here. Back on the seat, and kick your feet up, yes, that's it lovely.” He instructs, setting up the camera to be in frame. “Up a bit more, your left leg, that's beautiful.”
You look into the camera, feeling completely comfortable for the first time since being here. This is your element. This is what you’re good at. It’s not all about looking pretty, it’s about selling the look to the audience, the viewer, the buyer and most importantly the person who wears it. You pose in a few more positions on the couch and lose yourself in the fun. That’s another part of this job you’ve liked. The fun. The freedom and the ability to dress up, almost become a different person. It transforms you.
“Beautiful. Ok let’s do a few more in the next dress. Ok dear?”
“Sounds good.”
The next dress you change into is a deep v, showing off the curves and valley of your breasts, stopping just above your stomach. It’s like a huge gemstone, every part of it beaded and bedazzled. It fits perfectly, just how the other one fits and you walk out from behind the divider.
“Oh that’s beautiful! The President sure does have good taste.”
“President Snow picked these out?”
“Of course. He does every year.” The photographer smiles, beckoning you to him. You pose in front of the couch some more, and now find that you feel slightly uncomfortable again. You can’t help but feel Snow’s eyes on you again. Perhaps he’s watching you in this room too. You try not to think of it as you stare into the camera lens, but it only makes you feel more watched.
“Hey dear? You ok?” The cameraman questions, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Yeah I’m fine.” You smile “Just wondering about the other models. Am I going to be shooting with them?” You inquire, seeing if maybe you can talk to one and ask for help.
Maybe someone could get a message out without Snow knowing
You think.
“Not today, but tomorrow we will do all 12, right now we are just getting individuals for each district.”
“Where are the other girls?” You inquire, trying to sound casual
“District Two!”
You nod and the cameraman continues, encouraging you as you pose for him. So you have more modeling tomorrow. You wonder when he was going to tell you and that’s the last thought you have of him during the session. A few more dresses later and your stomach starts to growl. You hold it instinctively, wincing in pain.
“A few more shots and we’ll break for lunch beautiful. That’s it, look here, a little more to the left…a little more, yes perfect!” The camera flashes rapidly. “Ok team! Let’s break for lunch, we’ll come back in an hour and a half and finish up.”
The stylist starts to pack up and the cameraman starts to disassemble his tripod. One of the stylists helps you with your hair and wipes off your makeup.
“We’ll do a new style after lunch, ok dear?” You nod somberly, knowing that lunch for you means lunch with him. As you wipe the rest of your makeup off, the maid walks in with another change of clothes.
“Another outfit?” You examine it and she nods wordlessly. It’s a white dress, knee length, with slightly puffy sleeves. On top is a white hair bow and a pair of white, strapped sandals. You sigh and take it from her. By the time you change, it’s just you and the maid. You also take down your hair, it falls out, now slightly curled from being woven up. She walks you out and around the back of the palace. You eventually arrive at a big sliding glass door that opens into the garden and you can see him in the distance.
Coriolanus is admiring one of his many white rose bushes. He picks one and twirls it in his fingers. You approach him, your footsteps quiet and he doesn’t hear you at first. You step on a leaf, causing him to look up. He smiles, oh so happy to see you.
“Hello my dear.” He greets you stepping towards you.
You stop in front of him and he reaches out his hand to feel your hair. He plays with in between his thumb and forefinger. He takes in your scent, smiling greedily.
“Come darling. I know you must be hungry. Why didn’t you finish your breakfast?” He asks sweetly
Of course he knows. He must have his people keeping track of your meals, the amount you’re eating.
“Was it not good?” He follows up when you don’t answer immediately
“No, sir. It was fine, it’s just that my appetite hasn't been the same since I got here.”
“My darling, you should have told me what you wanted. I want you to be cared for well since you’re being so good for me”
“I-I am hungry though. W-what’s for lunch” you stutter
“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it again.”
You walk with him through the garden and he hands you the rose he was playing with.
“For you.”
“Thank you President Snow.” You nod, taking the steam in your hand
“You’re most welcome my sweets” he smiles, his charming lips curling up almost sinisterly.
You walk a bit more, admiring the other flowers in the garden, and how green everything is. He takes you a bit further until you pass the greenhouse. Around on the other side is a neat table for two looking out into the fountains and waterways. It’s set up with silverware sets and empty wine glasses. In the center is a cylindrical wine cooler and a bottle sitting in it. You’re slightly taken aback at the slight and want to hate how beautifully romantic it is because you’re here with Snow and not someone that you actually love. That you’d actually want to be on a date with. You sigh to yourself, but he notices.
“What’s wrong my angel. Here come sit.” He pats the white iron garden chair and you reluctantly follow his orders.
“Would you like some white wine?” He asks
“Yes please. Thank you, President Snow.” You nod, taking a seat. He sits across from you and uncorks the bottle. He pours you a fair amount and then himself.
“I just recently started having a drink with lunch. It’s nice to go into the rest of the afternoon feeling less tense. And I can still get everything done.” It works out well.”
You nod and look around. It’s hard not to feel somewhat at peace in such a beautiful environment. You avoid his gaze, even though he’s eyeing you like his prey. You glance at him and take a nervous drink of your wine.
“How was your meeting?” You quip up
Coriolanus perks up at the question, his smile widening.
“I appreciate you asking my dear. So thoughtful.” He pauses, sipping his wine. “It was honestly mundane, but productive nonetheless. I’m excited for you to see this year’s upcoming games. We really want to do something new for the 20th Anniversary. “
“Sounds exciting” you lie
“My dear, do you not enjoy the games?”
“I-I never said that…”
“You didn’t need to.” He pauses again, leaning forward. “Tell me if someone you trusted, perhaps even someone you loved, betrayed you, tried to kill you, starve you out, all because they wanted what they couldn’t provide for themselves. Just to take from you, would you simply forgive them…”
“It would be hard, I don’t think I would though…”
“Exactly! Even those we hold close to us can soon turn into a predator and us, the prey. We must never forget our human nature calls for us to given into our animalistic instincts in the most desperate of times. And that’s the biggest game out of them all. Pretending to uphold civility, pretending that we don’t truly want to devour each other for power.” He gives you a devious look, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“And wanting to devour each other in other ways…”
You nervously look away, out onto the garden. He reaches across the table and tilts your chin to him.
“Look at me beautiful. Don’t be shy with me. Tell me, do you think I’m wrong?”
“No sir, you're not wrong President Snow”
“Good girl.” He whispers
He holds for face and moments later, a few avoxes enter. They once again wheel out a cart similar to the one at lunch, serving up the plates. They take the covers off and reveal what appears to be a tomato soup and a grilled cheese with bacon. It seems unusual at first and you notice how he watches your expression.
“Basil tomato soup, and grilled cheese with bacon, Gouda, white cheddar and apple slices. I think you’ll find it a unique twist on a classic.”
“It smells and looks delicious.”
“Of course. Dig in my dear.” He scoots in, taking his sandwich and biting into it. You pick up your own as well, dunking it in the soup. As soon as the flavor hits your mouth, they storm off into a wonderful dance. You’re not sure how it’s possible, but every meal is as amazing as the last. You sip on your wine to get it down and it pairs perfectly with the taste.
“Good?” He raises an eyebrow
You nod and he gives you a stern look.
“Yes, President Snow.”
“I knew you’d like it. After this you’ll finish up the photo shoot, then I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and curl your hair. I want you absolutely perfect for dinner. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I understand” you nod
“Excellent! So tell me how’s the shoot going?”
“Good. It’s nice to feel comfortable here. Modeling has always made me feel good about myself.”
“Does it? Tell me more.”
You're stunned. Like a deer in headlights, you feel frozen by the question. You pause for a moment and you watch as he waits patiently for your response.
“Well I guess when I was a teenager people would tell me how beautiful I was, but I had a hard time believing it and then one day a friend of mine wanted me to try on some clothes and take pictures in it and I just felt natural, I finally felt beautiful.”
Coriolanus reaches for your hand and you put it in his. He kisses your knuckles gently.
“Who ever said you’re not beautiful?” He says, a puzzled look spreading on his face
“N-no one.”
“Then why would you think that you’re not beautiful?”
You pause for a moment and look down again. He squeezes your hand, his face drooping and you gaze into his eyes. They are so mesmerizing. A deep ocean blue, and they compel you to speak freely from your heart. You stutter at first then relax once more under the feeling of his lips meeting your hand once more.
“My mother, she was very superficial when it came to physical appearance. I always felt like I had to please her by looking nice.“ you confess
Coriolanus squeezes your hand even more tight and looks down at his lap. He contains his newfound anger at your mother and then looks back up with a soft smile.
“You are truly beautiful my dear. As long as you’re in my care, I’ll make sure you always feel beautiful and never think that way again. Okay?”
“Yes, Mr. President “
“Good girl.” He kisses your knuckles one last time
After lunch, he sends you off to model the rest of the dresses and you ponder his words. You think about his face, the way he looked as if he might fall apart by simply hearing about your insecurities. How he wants to fix them and cast them away from your mind. Forever. And the way he has arranged your time here. The modeling, the photoshoots, as if he knew that’s when you felt most beautiful. You want to hate it, but there is a part of you that feels cared for. Wanted. Needed. In a way you haven’t before.
꧁🝮꧂
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fragilefangirl · 2 years ago
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"Coryo only likes Lucy Gray because she's hot" WRONG. Coryo liked Lucy Gray because she is a free bird. He's never been more electrified than for the rainbow-skirted girl from twelve who made sure she went out to her execution with a bang, who took his rose and could recognize his ruse from a mile away because she saw no need to restrain herself. Coryo, who had been restrained his whole life, fell in love with freedom.
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sophiemariepl · 1 year ago
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Found that on Facebook some time ago and it couldn't go more accurate lol
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