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[euphemiaamillais]

HOT

Personal Secretary -

Young President Snow x Secretary Reader

About: President Snow is someone that prides himself on being a loyal husband and amazing President to the country of Panem. However, he does have quite the sweet spot for his secretary.

word count: 2,300

Warnings: NSFW Content, MDNI, cheating (not on you), unprotected sex, p in v sex, praise, quickie, etc.

“Gem of Panem,

Mighty City,

Through the ages you shine anew.”

You stood at your desk with a hand on your heart as the sound of the Capitol’s anthem played over the speakers. It was eight o’clock in the morning, the time the President had arrived at his office. This was a routine that happened each and every morning, to show one’s respect for their country and the mighty city of the Capitol.

“We humbly kneel,

To your ideal,

And pledge our love to you!”

Everyone was facing the flag of Panem, speaking the words to the anthem in unison as it played across the building. A few years back, barely anyone knew the anthem. It was a song made during the dark ages and only recently had it been brought back when Coriolanus Snow came into power. Something about showing pride for one’s home.

“Gem of Panem,

Heart of Justice,

Wisdom Crowns your marble brow.

You give us light,

You reunite,

To you we make our vow.”

You had always felt prideful for your city. Having been born and raised in the Capitol, gone to the Academy, gone to the University, you had been a star pupil in the eyes of your educators. Your family had been quite prominent but it was your skill set that really made you become the right hand woman to the President of the whole nation of Panem.

“Gem of Panem,

Seat of power,

Strength in Peacetime, shield in strife,”

You had gone to school with Coriolanus Snow, though you were a year behind him. You worked hard to make something of yourself outside of your family’s affiliations. Your family was known for investing in high fashion items, owning many of the high end fashion stores in the Capitol itself. And while your father had wanted that life for you as well, you wanted to become something else. And you did.

“Protect our land,

With armored hand,

Our Capitol,

Our life.”

When the anthem ended, you all went back to your work. It wasn’t easy being the secretary of the President. His schedule was quite tiresome most days. And today most certainly was one of those days. You focused on the papers set in front of you, sorting through them and seeing which ones were important enough for President Snow to take a look at. By ten in the morning, you knocked on his office door to give him his schedule.

“Come in,” came the authoritative voice that was Coriolanus Snow. The President of Panem had been elected about a year ago when he was just twenty-four years old and recently married to Livia Cardew, a woman he simply married for convenience and nothing more. In fact, he hated Livia Cardew quite a bit. Though she doesn’t know that and the nation doesn’t need to know that. And now, here he was, twenty-five years old and working hard to ensure that the country is running smoothly. And you? You were very patriotic towards your President.

“I have your schedule for the rest of the day, sir,” You said as you walked into the office, closing the door gently behind you and walking over to his desk. President Snow was sat at his desk, dressed in a navy blue suit with a red rose in the pocket. His hair was slicked back, making him look even more handsome than usual. Your heels clicked with each step you took and Coriolanus was very obviously staring you up and down. “And a list of messages to give you,” You added.

Coriolanus licked his lips before looking at your face. “Go on,” he said, using a hand to signal you to speak.

“You have lunch today with the new Head Gamemaster to discuss ideas for eighteenth annual Hunger Games at twelve p.m, a meeting with the mayor of District One at one p.m, a phone call with the Head General at two p.m, and an address to the nation at three p.m about the sewage system,” You explained, looking down at your notes before looking back up at Coriolanus. “After that, you have a Gala to attend tonight at eight o’clock with your wife who is wondering if you will be coming home for dinner.”

Coriolanus sighed, running a hand over his face as he thought over everything. “That’s quite a lot for today,” He exclaimed. “Tell Livia I will not be having dinner with her tonight.”

You nodded your head. “Right away, sir,” you said, giving him a polite smile.

“You’ll be attending the Gala as well, correct?” Coriolanus asked.

You nodded your head in confirmation. “That’s correct, sir,” You replied. “My whole family will be attending.”

“Good,” Coriolanus smirked at you. “I’ll see you later then, Miss L/N.”

“I’ll see you later, President Snow,” And with that, you left his office to get back to work.

When you arrived at the Gala dressed in a ravishing black dress that accentuates your curves, you knew that you were officially the best dressed at the event. Your hair was down and styled to perfection. Your makeup was done elegantly with a red lip. You walked into the event, immediately greeted by other prominent families within the Capitol. You greeted each and every one of them with a smile and a kind greeting. Only the best from a high member of society.

You looked around the room, noticing President Snow across the room with his wife standing next to him. His eyes were immediately on you. You gave him a smirk as he did a slight tilt of his head, signaling to follow him. He excused himself from Livia before walking towards the bathrooms. After a moment, you followed.

Your relationship with Coriolanus Snow is a bit of a complicated one that had begun when he was voted in as President. Being a year below him during school, the two of you interacted only briefly. But he hired you based on your family’s name and your high grades from the University. After your hiring, it was safe to assume that there was more to it. He would always look you up and down, taking in your beautiful form. And you didn’t hate it one bit. Coriolanus was an attractive man. And you were very patriotic.

About two months into his presidency, the two of you stayed late to work on an address that was going to be given the next day. A late night with your boss with dinner had led to the two of you talking about anything and everything unrelated to work. And that night, he fucked you on his desk without any regrets. That was the start of an affair that neither of you wanted to end.

You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door. You heard the faint “come in” of Coriolanus’s voice. Before walking in, you looked around to ensure no one else was looking. You opened the door, walking into the room before quickly closing it behind you and locking the door. As soon as you did so, Coriolanus was pinning you to the wall, his lips immediately on yours.

You let out a soft sound, kissing Coriolanus back with the same hunger and passion he was giving you. You brought your arms up around his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he murmured softly, pulling away to look into your eyes.

You gave him a soft smile. “Thank you,” You said, kissing his lips. “You look quite handsome yourself,” You added, looking at Coriolanus’s dark green suit.

Coriolanus sighed. “Livia wanted me to wear it,” He said, slightly annoyed, “I think it looks horrendous. But I must be a supportive husband and follow through with my wife’s wishes.” Coriolanus dipped his head to kiss your neck, using his hands to explore your body.

You laughed, nodding your head. “What a wonderful husband you are,” you said a bit sarcastically.

Coriolanus hummed against your skin. “The best, really,” he said just as sarcastically. He lifted your dress over your hips. You chose not to wear anything underneath the dress which Coriolanus believed to be an excellent decision. “This is quite helpful,” he murmured softly. “Makes things easier.”

“Did it just for you,” You murmured back.

“You’re so good to me,” Coriolanus said. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel his hard on through his trousers. “We have to be quick,” he said a bit unhappily. Coriolanus didn’t like to do quickies as much as he loved taking his time with you. He adores making you feel just as good as you make him feel. “But I promise tomorrow evening will be ours,” he added.

“I’ll hold you to that promise,” You smiled. “How do you want me?”

Coriolanus unbuttoned his pants enough to reveal his hard cock. He too wasn’t wearing any underwear. He licked his lips as he thought about your cunt. “Turn around for me.”

You obliged, turning around with a hand on the door of the bathroom. Coriolanus wrapped an arm around you, dipping his head to kiss your neck as he guided his cock to your entrance. He eased himself inside of you, causing the both of you to let out shaky breaths. You put a hand over your mouth to avoid moaning. “You’re so wet for me,” Coriolanus whispered into your ear, moving his hips slowly at first. “Wish I could take my time with you.”

“Always ready for your cock,” You whispered back, licking your lips.

“Mmm, yes you are,” Coriolanus replied, snapping his hips faster.

You gasped, trying to keep yourself from moaning like a slut. There were people just outside the door and it would be an all-time scandal if the people of Panem found out that the President was having an affair with his secretary.

“Gotta stay quiet for me, baby,” Coriolanus said shakily, thrusting his cock in and out of you tight cunt at a relentless pace. “Ah—fuck, you feel so good,” he almost whined in your ear.

You didn’t reply, not trusting yourself to not moan loudly if you uncover your mouth. Instead you met his thrusts with your own movements, his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. Coriolanus was moving hard and fast, burying his cock inside of you so good. You threw your head back, closing your eyes in the process.

Coriolanus began kissing your neck, sucking on your pulse point. “Gonna cum inside your tight pussy,” he whispered against your skin, thrusting his hips frantically. You could tell that Coriolanus was very close with how breathless he sounded and how he was holding back his own moans. You felt yourself getting closer, the repetitive thrusting into your g-spot sending you close to the edge.

“Gonna cum, oh my god—“ Coriolanus whispered harshly, close to just moaning out loud as he started spilling inside of you.

With a gasp, you clench around Coriolanus’s cock, gushing as you come. You felt the liquid dripping down your leg as you arched your back against Coriolanus. He fucked you through your orgasm, rocking his hips to milk the both of you. And when you both finished, he pulled out, immediately stuffing his cock back into his pants and zippering them. You were both breathing heavily as you took a moment to just lean your head against the bathroom door. Coriolanus, oh-so-kindly put your dress back down perfectly before turning you around and wrapped his arms around you.

“I needed that,” he murmured into your ear as he pulled you close to him, kissing the top of your head.

You smiled lazily, leaning against Coriolanus as you hugged him back. “Me too,” you replied. “They’re probably wondering where you are,” you sighed.

“Mmm,” Coriolanus made a noise of acknowledgment. “I wish I could just take you home,” he said, breathing in deeply.

It was always moments like this that made you wonder if Coriolanus Snow, the President of Panem, loved you. He always treated you like he had the utmost feelings for you. He would take you out for dinners, buy you gifts, care for you in such a way that only a lover would. But ultimately, you knew that wasn’t the case. Because Coriolanus Snow was incapable of loving another person. That’s what he told you, at least. Regardless, you didn’t mind it whatsoever. Because you’re his secretary, his true right hand woman. And that’s all that mattered, right?

After a few moments, the two of you pulled away and gathered yourselves. You cleaned yourself up, making sure nothing was on your legs while Coriolanus fixed his hair. He gave you one soft kiss. “I’ll see you,” he murmured against your lips.

You smiled, kissing him back. “See you, sir,” you replied.

Coriolanus smirked before walking out of the bathroom. You stayed back for a moment, fixing your lipstick and your hair in front of the mirror. And after a minute, you walked out and back into the party as though nothing happened. You glanced at Coriolanus, who was talking to some military official, and then looked at his wife, who was looking at you.

That’s when you knew Livia Cardew wasn’t as oblivious as she made herself out to be. And you? You simply winked at her and smirked before turning your attention to a random Capitol citizen.

[euphemiaamillais]

nsfw | mdni | modern sej x reader

Imagine Sejanus wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt when he opens the door to his apartment one morning. His curls were all over the place while he rubbed his eyes, clearly having just woken up. You looked at him, about to smirk and tease him for sleeping in so late. Until you noticed the outline of his hard cock in his sweatpants. Sejanus very clearly had morning wood.

You cleared your throat, closing the door behind you as you looked at your handsome boyfriend. “Did I wake you?” You tilted your head as you stood in front of Sejanus.

Sejanus smiled sleepily, nodding his head. He kissed your forehead. “Stayed up studying for my exam tomorrow,” Sejanus said with his deep morning voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist.

You hugged Sejanus back, breathing in his scent. “And you answered the door with a very obvious boner,” You said, sliding your hand down to palm Sejanus through his sweatpants.

Sejanus let out a breathless chuckle. “Knew it was you,” He murmured.

“Mhm,” You hummed, continuing to palm Sejanus through his pants. “Should I take care of it for you?”

“I think you should,” Sejanus said, pulling away from the hug to look at you with a small smirk on his lips.

You grinned, immediately dropping to your knees for Sejanus. You always gave him a blowjob when he wears his grey sweatpants. It’s just something about the outline of his cock that really does it for you. Just like whenever you wear a sundress, Sejanus can’t help but eat you out.

You grabbed the waistline of Sejanus’s sweats, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring out of his pants. You gripped his cock, giving a few experimental tugs. Sejanus hissed in pleasure, looking down at you. He licked his lips, bringing a hand to his hair to move his curls out of his face. “You’re so hard,” You said, looking up at Sejanus.

Sejanus let out a shaky breath, nodding his head. “For you, always,” he replied.

You smiled. “I see that,” You said. And without any further hesitation, you moved your head to his length, licking the tip of his cock. Sejanus let out a soft moan, bringing a hand to caress your hair. You wrapped your lips around his cock, slowly easing him into your mouth.

Sejanus’s cock was thick. He may not be the longest (he’s about average) but he most certainly was girthy and his cock always stretched your lips. Both pairs. You began sucking him off, gaining rhythm. Sejanus groaned, closing his eyes in pleasure as he intertwined his fingers in your hair. “Fuck baby,” He said, throwing his head back.

You continued to work, bobbing your head up and down. It didn’t take long for Sejanus to begin his own movements, chasing his own high as he fucked your mouth with small thrusts, making sure not to gag you. “Always feels so good,” he moaned, licking his lips.

And with a few more movements from the both of you, Sejanus was cumming down your throat with a loud moan, holding your head down on his cock so that you wouldn’t move. When Sejanus calmed down from his high, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva and cum. You swallowed his cum as you looked up at your handsome boyfriend.

“That certainly is a great way to start the day,” Sejanus said, smirking as he helped you stand up. He kissed your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth.

It was safe to say that your day was spent mostly in bed with Sejanus.

[euphemiaamillais]

coryo would have a heavy breeding kink to the point where he cums his pants before the reaping because he's thinking about filling u up after winning the plinth prize :(( he would almost sob at the thought of your tits growing i just KNOW IT

yes!!!

nsfw | mdni

imagjne coryo’s just in his bedroom the night before the reaping, thinking about the prize money and what he would do with it. and eventually, his thoughts take a naughty route as he thinks about you. god he hasn’t had much time to fuck you lately due to being so busy with projects and ensuring that he would win that prize. he wanted nothing more than to bury his cock inside of you, taking you hard and fast.

it wouldn’t even matter if he wore protection or if he pulled out. he’d have the money to take care of any consequences. all that would matter would be you and your tight cunt wrapped around his cock.

coryo’s pants were straining. he let out a gasp as he felt his cock twitching. he began thinking about how it would be like if he got you pregnant. your tits would be swelling so nicely. that alone was enough to send him over the edge and with a hand pressed to his mouth and a choked moan leaving his lips, coryo came in his pants. a wet patch formed in his red academy trousers as he came.

he most definitely will be fucking you until you are sure to be pregnant with his child after he wins the plinth prize.

[euphemiaamillais]

this been on my mind lately but reader squirting for coryo

nsfw | mdni | coryo x fem!reader | squirting, oral (f), fingering (f)

note: I feel like my writing has been so bad lately because of writers block so pls lmk what you guys think of it!!

imagining coryo just sitting behind you, your back press against his chest as you sit between his legs. the both of you were undressed for the most part. you were completely naked while coryo was still wearing his boxers. you could feel his cock pressing against your back.

coryo’s fingers were buried deep in your cunt, thrusting hard and fast while his other arm was wrapped around you, groping your breasts. the room was filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.

“you’re so wet today, princess,” coryo murmured in your ear, his voice soft but seductive.

you let out a shaky moan, nodding your head. “feels really good, coryo,” you said, licking your lips.

“i know, baby,” he replied, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt.

he curled his digits, causing you to throw your head onto coryo’s shoulder back in pleasure, moaning loudly. you felt yourself getting closer as heat pooled inside of you. “coryo i’m-“ you cut yourself off as your orgasm overtook you, causing you to tense up. your walls clamped around coryo’s fingers as you felt liquid drenching your thighs and coryo’s hand.

coryo let out a loud and shaky breath, unable to help the moan that escaped him as he felt your juices on his hand. “oh fuck, baby,” he groaned, his fingers still riding out your orgasm.

as you came down from your high, you looked down, seeing the mattress drenched in your juices. you flushed in embarrassment as coryo removed his digits from your cunt. “i-i’m so sorry,” you said.

coryo hummed in your ear. “don’t be sorry, princess,” he murmured. “it was so hot,” coryo said.

and truth be told, he most definitely found it hot. because he made you do it at least two more times.

[euphemiaamillais]

"Masks We Wear" - Ghostface!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

a/n: an anon was super sweet about my ghostface au's and requested one for coryo - hope you enjoy this, nonnie! 🩷

Summary: Coryo finally drops the mask he wears around you and shows you what he really is.

Word Count: 3,020

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: DUBCON, murder, stalking, kidnapping, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, knife kink, blood kink, bondage, pain play, overstim, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

The saying goes that behind every man there is a strong woman. Coriolanus Snow knows exactly who that woman is meant to be for him. He once thought that it was going to be Lucy Gray, the sweet little ingénue from District 12 who nearly broke his heart, who nearly destroyed him. But no. Coryo realizes now that she was a placeholder for someone far, far more important: you, his childhood best friend. While the other students at the Academy often mocked him for his family’s fall from grace, you never once did. You were the sweetest little thing, always offering some of your lunch to him because “the cook made too much” or you “weren’t that hungry”. He knew what you were doing. He always knew. But, he knew you were doing it for his benefit, and so he accepted your kindness.

Coryo always thought you were too pure to be tainted by his darkness. That he ought to stay away from you for your own good. That the thoughts that infested his mind about all the things he wanted to do to you needed to remain a fantasy and nothing more. He thought he could enact those with Lucy Gray. That he could close his eyes and imagine it was you lying beneath him. He learned his lesson. There’s only one you. And you’re the one he needs by his side, supporting him as he works his way to the top of the food chain.

You’re the first person he sees after returning from 12. He comes to your home, at nearly three in the morning. You answer the door with a knife in your hand, poking your head out nervously. The knife gives him ideas he’s not sure your sweet, innocent mind would be able to comprehend. You let it clatter to the floor, throwing your arms around him and pulling him into your embrace.

“Oh, Coryo… I thought…”

He moves closer to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his voice a low rumble in his chest, “What did you think?”

“Nevermind,” you shake your head, “I’m just so glad you’re back. I’m so glad.”

Coryo smiles against your neck, a darkness behind his gaze, a possessiveness that you don’t quite pick up on. And you’re the same as you ever were. Blindly trusting him, his fingers running through your hair, his other hand resting on your lower back.

“Did you miss me?”

“Of course I did,” you beam up at him, “You’re my best friend in the whole world, Coryo. I even tried getting a train to 12, but they detained me!”

His expression grows stern, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he reprimands you, “Why would you ever think that’s a good idea, sweetheart? Traveling across districts to see me? You know how dangerous it is out there?”

“I would’ve been fine,” you protest, waving off his concern.

“You wouldn’t have,” Coryo says firmly, moving to cup your face in his hands, “I don’t want you doing anything like that again, alright? You could’ve gotten into real danger. And I wouldn’t have been able to protect you. You understand?”

“Yes, Coryo,” you pause before speaking softly, a sympathetic tone to your voice which he finds ironic in light of your words, “I’m so sorry about Sej. I know you two were like brothers.”

He can’t believe you actually think he cared about Sejanus. Truth be told, he doesn’t care about anyone except himself, you, and maybe his grandmam. He feigns a wistful smile, nodding, allowing you to embrace and comfort him, the feel of your warm, soft body against his enough to make him carry on the charade a bit longer as you promise that you’re here for him, that you’re never going to betray him or leave him. That’s when he notices it, his blood running cold at the sight of it.

The engagement ring on your ring finger.

Coryo pulls away from you, reeling at the realization.

“Coryo? What is it? Are you alright?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, not knowing what to say, his jealousy and anger nearly consuming him. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. How can you be engaged? This is going to ruin everything. All his plans could go up in smoke.

“Who are you engaged to?” His voice is as cold as his gaze when he asks you.

“Oh… Festus,” you tell him, a glumness to your voice that makes him feel somewhat appeased, “It’s an arranged thing. You know how marriages in our families are.”

It takes every ounce of self restraint he has to refrain from ripping that goddamn ring off your pretty little finger as he moves closer to you, “Arranged, huh?”

You nod, “Yeah. After Felix died then you and Sej were sent to 12… My parents got anxious to match me off.”

Coryo inhales sharply. Festus fucking Creed. He never thought he could hate someone more than he hated Billy Taupe, but here he is, his blood boiling at the mere thought of Festus’s fucking hands touching you.

“And you just went with it?”

“I wasn’t really given a choice, Coryo.”

“Do you love him?”

“No,” you shake your head vehemently, “I mean, hopefully I can one day. Grow to love him, I mean. It would be nice to not be in an unhappy marriage, you know?”

Coryo remains quiet, his hands gripping your kitchen counter so tight his knuckles go white. Before you can say another word, he’s storming out of your door, ignoring your confusion as he slams it shut behind him.

He walks the cold, empty streets of the Capitol, only one thought on his mind. How to make you his. How to get rid of the obstacles that stand in the way of him having you. As he gets closer and closer to his family’s old home, he passes by the store where Tigris so often bought items for her designs. There, in the window, is a mask, made of what he assumes to be rubber, with black eyes, a black nose, and a black mouth in a grimace. A twisted smile spreads across his own face as he enters the store.

Oh yes, this disguise will do quite nicely for the task at hand.

It doesn’t take much to memorize your schedule. After all, you’re so predictable. You leave to go to your University classes and you go straight back to your penthouse like the good girl you are. Sometimes, you stop by your parents’ mansion and have tea with them, sometimes you’ll go shopping with Livia. But for the most part? It’s the same basic schedule.

The worst days are the ones where you go with Festus to plan things for the wedding. Your discomfort is obvious whenever Festus leans in to kiss your cheek, wraps his arm around your waist. Coryo is doing you a favor by going through with this plan. It’s so obvious you don’t care about Festus the way you care about him. That Festus could never make you happy the way he could.

He makes his presence known to you after you go for your first dress fitting. A bouquet of white roses left at your front door, stained with blood, and an accompanying note saying how beautiful you look in white. Coryo watches with amusement as you panic and grab your videophone and call him. He ducks into the hallway and answers, feigning concern for you and offering to come right over, holding you in his arms as you cry against his chest, saying how scared you were, how grateful you are that he’s back. How Festus would’ve just made fun of you for being so terrified. And Coryo runs his fingers through your hair, shushing you, assuring you everything will be alright.

The next time, he pushes things even further. He leaves a letter, detailing all the vile things he wants to do to you, how he plans to get rid of Festus and then defile your pretty little body. Coryo is pretty sure he can hear the faintest hint of breathlessness in your voice. You like it. You like what he wrote. You liked him describing how he’s going to make you cry tears of pleasure, screaming his name as he fucks you, as he claims what belongs to him. God, you’re so fucking afraid. He loves it. And the ironic part? You keep running into his arms for comfort. It’s all going according to plan.

Coryo decides that it’s time for you and your secret admirer to meet face to face a few weeks before the wedding. You take a shortcut home on your way from the wedding planner’s office, into an alley that on any other occasion would be safe. But not today. He’s been following you from a distance, making you feel ill at ease. Why is there a man in a mask walking around in broad daylight? But, you chalk it up to the people of the Capitol having odd habits and try to ignore the way it feels like the masked man’s eyes are burning into your body.

When you turn into the alley, he makes his move, grabbing you by the arm and pinning you against the wall. You struggle against him, squirming frantically as you cry out, wanting to know who he is, begging him to let you go. And it excites him. Something about seeing you so vulnerable, tears threatening to spill from those pretty eyes? It’s intoxicating. It’s almost like he gets high off of your fear. He keeps the mask on, keeps his gaze on you. He pulls a knife from his pocket, holding it to your cheek, tracing the contours of your face. Your lower lip wobbles slightly as he runs the tip of the blade along it, smirking beneath his mask.

“Are you scared, sweetheart?”

You can’t quite place it, but that voice, no matter how much the speaker tries to disguise it, is familiar. You know this man. You look up at him, letting out a gasp as he drags the knife along your throat.

“Yes, I’m terrified. Please let me go…”

He shakes his head, a low, menacing chuckle falling from his lips as he leans in closer, grabbing your face with a leather gloved hand, “I think I should keep you here with me. After all, I don’t want you running back to that pathetic little fiance of yours.”

You let out a choked gasp as his hand moves down toward your chest, squeezing your breasts over the fabric of your dress, “I promise, my family has money, I don’t have anything in my purse-”

Coryo lets out another dark laugh, grabbing you by the hair, pulling harshly to make you lean your face up to look at him, to look at his mask, “I’m not here for money, sweetheart. I’m here for you.”

He brings a cloth to your mouth and before you know it?

Your vision goes black.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, white rose petals scattered on the bed and floor around you. When you try to move, you realize your hands are tied to the bedpost, making you panic and tug at it, the headboard knocking against the wall. This seems to alert your captor to you now being awake. He walks in, that same mask on his face, giving you an appreciative onceover. You glance down and see that he’s dressed you in the skimpiest black lingerie you’ve seen in your entire life, complete with a pair of fishnet stockings. You glower at your captor from your spot on the bed as he comes to stand at the foot of it.

“Good, you’re awake.”

“You’re not going to get away with this!” You say indignantly, still tugging at the rope binding you to the bed, “My family, my fiance-”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that last part anymore. He’s been dealt with.”

Your blood runs cold at his words. You watch with horror as he opens the closet door and Festus’s body comes tumbling forward, his throat slit, his face twisted in an expression of pure terror. You scramble backward against the bed.

“Please…”

“Please?” He mocks, pulling his knife from his pocket, tracing your cleavage, down to your stomach, pressing down just hard enough to allow a trickle of blood to spill from your skin, “You still have no idea, do you? This mask… I guess I’ve worn a mask around you my whole life, truth be told. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you. For how long.”

Your jaw drops as he removes the mask, revealing his identity.

“Coryo?”

He smirks, nodding, tossing the mask aside and crawling over you, holding the knife to your neck, “I’ve hid it for so long. How much I’ve wanted you. They say we become the masks we wear, but I never did. I bided my time. And even though I tried to spare you, to take Lucy Gray instead of you, it was always meant to be you.”

“Coryo,” you whimper as he grabs your legs, bringing your ankles to rest against his shoulders, tracing the hilt of his knife against your cunt, smirking at the way you shiver, “This isn’t you…”

“Oh, sweetheart, it very much so is me,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your ankle, staring down at you, “And you’ll learn to love this side of me too.”

You’re helpless to do anything but watch as he kisses along your calf, your thigh, before mouthing at your pussy over the flimsy panties he’s put you in. You clench your fists, gritting your teeth, doing your best not to let any noises escape your lips. And so Coryo? He smirks up at you and renews his efforts, his blade set aside for the moment as he pushes your panties aside and spreads you open, his tongue delving deep inside you. Your head falls back against your pillow, an involuntary moan falling from your lips as he laps at your pussy eagerly, moaning against you, his hips rutting against the mattress. Fuck, he thinks he could cum just from your taste alone as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent, savoring your taste. He fucks you with his tongue over and over and over, letting out the most obscene slurping and sucking noises. And when you spill yourself on his tongue with a cry of his name, he just fucking continues. Your hips squirm away, seeking some reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure, but he chases you with his mouth moving his face from side to side, alternating between broad strokes against your cunt with his tongue and suckling at your swollen clit.

“Coryo…” You gasp as he wrenches another orgasm from you, making no movement to stop, your fishnet clad thighs shaking, ankles dangling over his shoulders as he continues, “Oh God…”

You wish you could grasp at the sheets for some form of purchase, but all you can do is writhe against him, even more violently when he uses the hilt of his knife to fuck you.

“Got to get you ready for my cock, sweetheart,” he coos, his tone equal parts affectionate and mocking, “Such a tight little pussy. I might just tear you apart.”

And you hate that you enjoy it. You hate that every time that blade brushes against your thigh, you grow wetter. That every time Coryo stares at you with those icy blue eyes, nearly blown black with lust, your stomach clenches. You’ve wanted him just as long as he’s wanted you, truth be told. So why not allow yourself to enjoy this?

He undoes his pants, his long, pale, veiny cock dripping pre cum from the tip as he slaps it against your clit repeatedly. You let out a whine of his name as he buries himself inside you. And he’s right. It does almost feel like he’s tearing you apart. Coryo smirks at the outline of his bulge against your stomach, his tongue tracing the cuts he left along your chest as he holds the blade to your throat and begins rutting against you. He tugs harshly at the bra, tossing it across the room, dragging his tongue along one of your nipples, his free hand pressing down on the bulge in your stomach, making you squeal and squirm against him. You’re so helpless and docile in his grasp, like a little kitten. And he can see it in your eyes as you gaze up at him. You want this as badly as he does. He drags the tip of his tongue along your pert nub before mouthing at the other, and finally?

Coryo presses his lips to yours in a ferocious, hungry kiss. One that you reciprocate as best as you are able to with your hands tied. Every thrust of his hips, every movement of his lips, his tongue massaging yours, his hand on your stomach, his knife at your neck. Every sensation is so mind-numbingly perfect that you practically leave your body when you reach your peak, Coryo fucking you through it. He’s determined to get one more out of you, moving his hand that rests on your stomach to pinch and slap at your pearl, his thrusts stuttering as he gets closer and closer.

“Going to fill you up with my cum, sweetheart,” he rasps against your ear, “Going to marry you. Not Festus. Me. Going to see you all pretty and round, carrying my baby. Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart, gonna make me cum, aren’t you?”

You nod wordlessly, lips parted as he spills himself into you, your own peak washing over you soon after. Coryo collapses against you, untying your hands and smirking as you cuddle up against him, his cum still dripping from between your thighs.

“I love you,” Coryo whispers, one of his hands cupping your breast, the other resting against your cheek, “I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

[euphemiaamillais]

i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him

CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.

So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.

So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.

He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.

The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.

You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.

A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.

"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"

"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.

Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.

It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.

C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)

"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.

The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.

Welcome Home.

The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.

"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."

His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.

Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.

"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.

You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.

You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.

You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.

Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.

"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."

Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.

You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.

Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.

You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).

His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.

He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.

"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.

It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.

But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.

"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"

His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.

You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.

"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."

You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.

He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.

"Smile, petal."

The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)

talonplague 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!

[euphemiaamillais]

laying in bed then suddenly OOOH imagine corio in an interview but he’s secretly fucking u under the table at the same time (idk how that works out anatomically??) it’s like a twist on the whole head under table thing (+wtf is emoji anons what is that)

it’s hard to fuck someone underneath the desk but i will def write a bill clinton monica lewinsky type blurb for you pookie

also the emoji anons is that a way for ppl to identify their asks! if you send an emoji that you want to be represented by, it’s a great way to stay anonymous while also interacting! there’s more to it i think but brain no work rn lol

nsfw | mdni | young pres coryo x fem reader | oral (m), exhibitionism

coryo was sat at his desk, addressing the nation of Panem about issues that people have been having about the games. his voice was steady, firm, very much president like. the twenty-four year old president was doing an excellent job giving the fine citizens of Panem an excellent speech. but what they didn’t know was that you, coryo’s most beloved secretary, was underneath his desk, giving him a bit of encouragement.

your hair was done in a slick ponytail, perfect and pristine just as it should be. you were on your knees with your president’s cock in your mouth as you sucked him off, bobbing your head up and down. you were careful to not make any noises with your mouth as you sucked on his cock.

you swirled your tongue at the tip of his cock, feeling coryo tense but reacting no other way as he kept his hands folded on the desk. you smirked to yourself as you continued your ministrations. it didn’t take long for you to feel coryo’s cock stiffening in your mouth, a sign that he was close to cumming.

“we, here in the capitol, appreciate your obedience with these upcoming changes. with that, i bid you all goodnight,” coryo said, his voice not faltering. you hollowed your cheeks, adding to his pleasure as you moved your head. “panem today, panem tomorrow, panem-“ coryo’s voice cracked as he began cumming down your throat. he cleared his voice. “panem forever.” and with that, the public address was over.

you swallowed his cum, sucking him off through his orgasm. as soon as the cameras turned off, coryo leaned back in his chair, looking down at you. he brought a hand to your hair as you took your mouth off of his cock. you looked up at him with glistening eyes and swollen lips, smirking at your handsome president. neither of you cared for the team that was inside the office, already clearing out.

coryo sighed, looking at you with a disappointed look. “i told you not to mess up my address, darling,” he murmured. “i suppose i have to punish you now.”

“i suppose you do,” you replied, still smirking. a great secretary will take anything her president gives her because he knows best.

[euphemiaamillais]

i know you have a fic recs tag but was hoping youd maybe share what you love about some of your fave fics!

good lord anon first off i’m SO sorry it took me so long to answer this. it’s been in my drafts with the list half written since forever but here we go!

also i’m so honored you’d ask!! there’s not nearly enough room in a post for me to mention all my favorites, but i’ll tell you some of my current faves and why i like them (i made a post with my faves quite a while ago here, so i’ll try to mention others so i’m not spamming those writers with mentions!)

blue, bambi and you by @darby-rowe (and every fic of theirs let’s be real) what to say about this fic except the wonderful dally blows the roof off every fucking time and it’s suchhh a perfectly executed threesome, the voyeurism guilt is explored so nicely and adds to the atmosphere, the tension is just perfect and the resolution is chefs kiss

constantly in the darkness by @divineidolatry my beloved friend june went off on this holy shit. wonderfully executed exes to lovers, emotional fuckery, and artfully crafted bdsm scenes my belovedddd also the buildup?? are you kidding me??? also an amazing reader / clemensia friendship dynamic which is something that can be so personal. i’m never shutting up about it thank you and goodnight 🫶🏼

the roommate snowjanus au by @euphemiaamillais (her masterlist is here, do yourself a favor and stalk it rn) my GOD words can’t describe how much i love this universe and we’ve been graced with so so many fics and i devour them everytime. i love the power dynamics, little subtleties and the characterisations with it being in a modern setting are just everything! the sexting. the threesomes. are everything. the strip poker game?? call an ambulance for me type beat

[euphemiaamillais]

"Welcome home, Mr. Snow."

[euphemiaamillais]

best friend!coryo but he’s also a dealer and when ur buying weed from him he insists that you can pay him another way

nsfw | mdni | coryo x fem!reader | oral (m) | degradation | face fucking | gagging (only once)

you hadn't had weed in a while and were starting to crave it. your usual dealer, sejanus, was on vacation for the next month in aruba so you couldn't receive weed from him any time soon. which led you to having to ask your best friend, coryo. it also meant you couldn’t get any of ma’s special cookies which disappointed you the most.

it shouldn't have been a problem to ask coryo. you have asked a few times in the past and he was so kind to allow you to do so without paying. but for some reason, this time, it was a problem. and that annoyed you for some reason.

“i’ll give you the weed if you suck my dick,” coryo said, shrugging his shoulders at you.

you scoffed at your best friend, rolling your eyes. “dude, i’m not sucking your dick for some weed,” you exclaimed, tilting your head at coryo.

“then you’re not getting your shit,” coryo said simply. “you know i don’t take money from you. but you do have to pay me some how.”

“are you fucking serious right now?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“very much so,” coryo replied, smirking as he leaned on your desk in your bedroom.

“if you just want your dick wet, coryo,” you began, sounding annoyed. “then why don’t you text your current bitch and ask her?”

“i’d much rather have you, baby doll,” he said, still smirking. “besides, you want weed. and i have it. all you have to do is suck me off and we can both be on our way."

you sighed. you seriously needed some weed. coryo had been your best friend since you both were children but you would be lying if you didn't find him at least relatively attractive. maybe it's the buzzcut that does it for you. he shaved his head about a few months ago and hasn't grown it back yet. "fine," you said a bit reluctantly. "but you better add a gram."

coryo smirked. "well, of course, babes," he said. "already done," he said, grabbing the bag from his pocket and holding it up.

you looked at the bag and then back at coryo, taking a deep breath before walking up to him. he was still leaning against your desk as you dropped to your knees in front of him. you looked up at him with your beautiful doe eyes as he looked down at you with his icy gaze. "well," you began. "pull your pants down. I'm not doing that for you," you exclaimed sassily to your best friend.

coryo's eyes widened ever so slightly but he obliged, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down enough to reveal his semi-hard cock. you had seen coryo's dick before. unfortunately, you've walked in on him masturbating quite a few times throughout your life. but the one thing that always boggled your mind was how big your best friend truly was. he had to be at least eight inches.

you licked your lips, your hand reaching up to grip his length and jerk him off slowly but gently. just enough to get him completely hard. coryo looked down at you, watching as you stroked his cock. and when he was hard, you leaned down, licking the tip. coryo inhaled sharply, gripping the desk.

you licked a stripe from the base to the tip before slowly taking his cock into your mouth. coryo let out a low groan, a hand going to your head. you made it about half way before stopping, using your hand to grip the base. you began bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked coryo’s cock.

“look at you,” coryo groaned, his normally pale cheeks flushed as he watched you take his cock in your mouth. “fucking slut, sucking your best friend’s cock.”

you let out a soft moan, sucking coryo’s cock. you moved your head a bit faster but felt your jaw begin to hurt. coryo gripped your head with both hands, entangling his fingers in your hair. “is my cock too big for your mouth?” he cooed, noticing the tightness of your jaw. “not such a good whore then are you?”

you whined, clenching your thighs together as you continued sucking coryo off. but suddenly coryo stopped you. you looked up at him confused, his cock still in your mouth. and with a smirk, coriolanus simply thrusted his hips into your mouth, causing his cock to his the back of your throat. you gagged, unable to help it due to the intrusion. but then you relaxed your jaw and your throat, allowing coryo to use your mouth as he pleases.

“this what you wanted, hmm?” he asked, thrusting his hips in and out of your mouth. he gripped your hair, holding your head in place as he used your mouth. “dirty fucking slut just wanted her throat fucked.”

you moaned around coryo’s cock, clenching your thighs again. your eyes had tears in them as you looked up at coryo. he continued thrusting his hips, letting out groans of pleasure. “getting close,” he said. “gonna swallow my cum like a good slut?” you replied by moaning around his cock once more. “good girl,” he said.

and after a few more thrusts into your mouth, coryo’s cock stiffened and began releasing ropes of cum down the back of your throat. you swallowed, not allowing any cum to escape your mouth. when coryo finished, he pulled out, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with cum on his cock and on your swollen lips. coryo looked down at you, caressing your hair before pulling away completely. he put the bag of weed onto your desk.

“noticed how much you were clenching your thighs,” he said, smirking. “maybe next time, i’ll fuck you.” coryo replied, pulling his pants up. “but unfortunately, right now, i have another client to go see. hit me up later, yeah?” and with that, coryo walked out of the room and out of your apartment, leaving you all alone to deal with yourself.

[euphemiaamillais]

best friend!coryo who texts you that he really needs help with something only for you to come over and for him to say that he needs you to suck him off :(

nsfw | mdni | oral (m) | modern au

coryo: hey. i need your help with something asap. can you come over?

when you read that text, you panicked. truthfully, with coryo, it could be anything and everything. did he murder someone and need help burying the body? did he shave his hair off again? or did he just need help finding a shirt for a date? truthfully, the man’s a menace.

being coryo’s best friend, you’ve been subjected the weirdness that comes with coriolanus snow. is he the most sane person in the world? no. but would you kill for that man? absolutely. you’d do anything for him. just as he would do anything for you.

as you arrived at coryo’s apartment, you entered without knocking. “hello?” you called out.

“in the bedroom,” came the slightly muffled reply of coryo’s voice.

you walked to coryo’s bedroom, the door open ajar. “what did you need help with?” you asked as you opened the door. you walked into the room to see coryo on his bed, his cock out in his hand as his cheeks were flushed. your eyes widened. “what the-“

“can’t make myself cum,” he said, pouting slightly. “can you help me?” he asked, giving his cock a small stroke.

you bit your lip as you looked at coryo. he looked so desperate for some sort of release, you actually felt a bit bad for him. “you called me here because you need to get off?” you asked. “couldn’t you have called one of the many girls in your phone?”

coryo sighed. “none of them are you,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “can you suck me off, please?”

you rolled your eyes at your best friend. maybe you shouldn’t give in so easily. but truthfully, coryo has a big dick and it’s not like you don’t want to. so really, what’s the harm in it? just bros doing bro things, right? “fine,” you said, making your way over to coryo. “but you owe me the same favor when i’m in need.”

coryo smirked at you. “sounds like a deal,” he said, licking his lips. you walked over to the bed, positioning yourself between his legs. your face was right near his red and angry cock.

“how long have you been trying to cum?” you asked, looking up at coryo.

coryo grabbing his phone, checking the time before putting it back down. “about an hour,” he said, slightly frustrated. “i really need to cum,” he admitted. “i haven’t been able to get any sort of work done because all i can think about is cumming.”

you cooed at coryo’s dilemma, feeling for him. and without saying another word, you just simply wrap your hand around coryo’s cock, guiding it to your mouth as you lick a strip from the base to the tip. coryo let out a small groan, looked down at you. you licked the tip of his cock before easing his length inside of your mouth.

coryo closed his eyes in pleasure, grateful to finally be getting some sort of relief that he needed. you were such a good best friend. coryo’s fingers intertwined with your hair as you moved your mouth up and down coryo’s length. “feels so good,” coryo murmured, licking his lips. you looked up at coryo and hummed around his cock, causing him to jerk his hips. “oh fuck,” he moaned.

you hollowed your cheeks, adding to coryo’s pleasure. “you’re doing so good,” he said, throwing his head back in pleasure. you used one of your hands to jerk off the base of coryo’s cock, the part of his length that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. coryo let out a whine of pleasure, unable to help the sound from escaping his mouth. “oh my god. so close, so close,” he said, bucking his hips.

and with a few more movements, coryo gripped your head, holding you still as he came inside of your mouth. you moaned at the feeling, swallowing coryo’s cum without a second thought. and when he finished, he loosened his grip, opening his eyes to look at you. you took your mouth off of his cock, looking up at coryo with plump lips and glimmering eyes.

“i think you owe me that favor now,” you said, a small smirk on your lips.

[euphemiaamillais]

complaining to best friend coryo about how you always have to fake your orgasms with your partners/hookups and he’s like…girl let me show you how it’s done

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader | fingering (f), p in v, unprotected sex, etc. | modern au

“you know,” you began speaking as you sat down next to coryo on the couch of your guys’ shared living room. being besties, you both decided to become roommates a while back and it’s been going really well. “last nights hookup was so bad,” you sighed dramatically, resting your head on coryo’s shoulder.

coryo was looking at the TV, playing a video game. he wasn’t playing anything strenuous, just minecraft because he was bored and needed something to do. “why’s that?” he asked, glancing down at you before back at the screen.

“i had to fake my orgasm,” you groaned. “i always have to fake them whenever i hook up with someone.”

coryo froze for a second, pausing his game before looking down at you. “why do you fake them?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“because no one has ever made me finish before,” you said. “and i don’t want to hurt their feelings by saying i didn’t cum.” you explained, looking up at coryo as your head was still rested on his shoulder.

“has anyone ever made you cum before?”

“only myself.”

coryo quirked an eyebrow. “clearly you’ve never been with someone worth your time then,” he exclaimed, pulling away from you to look at your face properly.

you lifted your head up, looking at your best friend. “and what do i do about that?” you asked.

“let me show you how it’s done,” coryo suggested, smirking at you.

which led to you on coryo’s lap, your back pressed against his chest as his fingers were underneath the hem of your pants, fingering your pussy. you moaned, leaning back against coryo who was pressing kisses along the nape of your neck.

“you’re so wet,” he murmured against your skin. he thrusted his fingers fast, the sounds of your pussy filling the room. you moaned in response, grinding your hips in rhythm to his hand. coryo let out a small groan as he felt you grinding against his hand, your ass pressed against his hard cock.

“so good,” you moaned, closing your eyes in pleasure.

and just as you felt your orgasm approaching, coryo stopped, causing you to whine as he removed his fingers from your cunt.

coryo let out a soft chuckle, gripping your hips and moving you to the side so that you’re sitting on the couch instead of his lap. “gonna fuck you now,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing up. his hard cock was prominent in the grey sweatpants he was wearing and you couldn’t help but whimper. coryo palmed his cock through his sweatpants. “be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, doll.”

and you obliged of course. because you’d do anything for your best friend. and for his cock. you took off all of your clothing, throwing it to the side. coryo let out a soft groan, eyeing you up and down. “you’re so beautiful,” he said, sighing. he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side before pulling down his sweatpants, revealing his large cock.

your eyes widened at how largely endowed your best friend truly was. “you’re so big,” you whispered in amazement. he had to be at least eight inches.

coryo smirked, nodding his head. “lay down for me,” he said. and you did so. coryo then moved back onto the couch, hovering over you as he grabbed his cock, pressing the tip against your folds and spreading your wetness. the both of you let out soft moans. “gonna fuck you so good, princess,” he groaned, lining his cock to your entrance.

“can’t wait,” you replied, looking down at your bodies as you watched him slowly ease his cock inside of you. you let out a whine of pleasure, grateful for being filled. coryo let out a groan.

truthfully, coryo hadn’t slept with anyone in awhile. he didn’t like having to go out and talk to people when he could truthfully just fuck the pretty girl he already knew. and now he was finally able to fuck you.

when coryo bottomed out, he stayed still for a moment, allowing you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly thrusting his hips. you both moaned in sync. you wrapped your arms around coryo’s neck, looking up into his icy eyes. you both shared a small smile, truly realizing that you fucking your best friend.

coryo began moving his hips faster, causing you to moan as his cock began hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “oh fuck!” you moaned out.

coryo’s breath was shaky as he thrusted his hips, closing his eyes in pleasure. “god you’re so tight,” he said. “clenching my cock so good.”

“you’re so big,” you replied, moaning.

after a few more thrusts, coryo changed the position. he took his cock out of you, grabbing you as he sat down on the couch. he maneuvered you onto his lap before gripping his cock and easing himself back into your cunt. you let out a loud moan from the change of position, feeling his cock entering you more deeply. “oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut.

coryo grabbed your hips before thrusting up into you at a harsh pace. you both moaned loudly, not caring at the fact that your neighbors could likely hear what’s going on through the walls.

coryo wrapped an arm around your waist to help him thrust into you better. you moaned, leaning your head on coryo’s shoulder as he fucked up into you. “you like having your best friend’s cock inside of you, hmm?” he grunted.

you whined, nodding your head against his shoulder. “love it so much,” you moaned, feeling yourself getting closer.

coryo moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure as he fucked you. “god, you’re clenching me so good,” he said. “gonna cum for me? gonna cum on my cock, baby?”

you nodded your head again, your breathing shaky as you felt the heat in your abdomen tighten. “so close, coryo, please,” you moaned out. “wanna cum so bad.”

“yes, baby,” he said, his right hand gripping your right butt cheek. “fuck, please cum on my cock.”

and with that, you came, hard, moaning loudly as your body began shaking. your thighs quivered as you came. with a few more thrusts, coryo came with a loud moan, spilling his seed inside of your pussy. and when you both finished, you breathed heavily, coming down from your highs.

you pulled away slightly, looking at coryo’s icy eyes as he looked into your beautiful eyes. he reached a hand up to caress your hair. “you don’t need to fuck anyone else,” he murmured. “i’ll take care of you.”

you smiled softly at your best friend. “sounds like a plan.”

[euphemiaamillais]

Poison

Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x district!Reader Word Count: 13.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, technically dubcon, swearing, post-ballad, mentions of killing and death, violence, technically prostitution, oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, sadistic tendencies, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coriolanus snow is NOT a good person. A/N: I started this a bit ago but writer's block hits hard. Reader did not remember who the enemy was...but she also kinda did. ANYWAy, I wrote this based around a song from Hazbin Hotel called Poison. All credit for the song goes to Sam Haft and Andrew Underberg. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

PART ONE: The Deal

The knocks which echo off the walls of your house are loud, firm, assertive. You jump at the sound, watching the door like it would fly off its hinges. For far too long, you stare at the door, debating whether or not you should open it.

Who could it be? You don't get many visitors… You don't get visitors.

You stand slowly, the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck on edge. You swear that you can feel your hands shaking. You hold your breath just so you can actually hear what's going on around you.

Another firm knock is given, and you snap out of your haze.

Your feet carry you across the length of the living room. Your fingers brush the cold knob of the door, and you hesitate before pulling it open, just enough to peek through the crack to see who could possibly be visiting you.

Your eyes widen and you fight the urge to step back, both of pure shock and a modicum of fear. “Mr. Snow.”

The sight of Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your door was not one you ever thought you'd see. There are two Peacekeepers behind him, holding their guns tight in offense against you.

You clear your throat, looking upon his expensive suit, his white-blonde hair, the single rose in his breast pocket. You force yourself to look him in the eye, afraid to antagonize him and risk any violence, before remembering who he was. He wouldn't get violent, but you would pay for it if you angered him.

He smiles when you finally meet his gaze, but he doesn't bother to tilt his chin down to level it. “Hello,” he greets politely.

You straighten your posture slightly, opening the door a bit more out of obligation more than a desire to welcome him in. Seeing that he is the man who designed the Games that put you through hell, you would rather keep him out.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, keeping your voice as non-confrontational as possible. “Sir.”

He shrugs, pulling his hands from the pocket of his jacket and holding them behind his back. He almost seems taller this way.

“Checking up on our latest Victor,” he smiles. He motions toward your living room, “May I come in?”

You don't have much of a choice now. With a sigh, you take a reluctant step to the side and grant his invitation. When he takes his first step forward and the Peacekeepers begin to move, he stops immediately and holds up a hand. They stand firmly in their place. Snow turns back to you, smiles, and then walks inside.

He takes the time to examine the place before he ever speaks, and you close the door behind him to shut the grunts out. Snow clasps his hands behind his back once more and glances around the room like it's speaking to him. He nods slowly, humming to himself.

“How are you?” he finally asks after you've both spent far too long in uncomfortable silence. “How is the life of a champion suiting you?”

You try not to scoff, bowing your head and crossing your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as you feel.

“Well enough, I guess,” you mumble.

He glances over his shoulder at you. “You guess?” he wonders, raising a curious brow.

You clench your jaw once, “Mr. Snow respectfully, why are you here?”

He shrugs. “As I said…checking on our Victor.”

You hum. “And you do this with all your Victors?”

The corner of his lip kicks, barely perceptible if you aren't paying attention. But you are. It would cost you a lot not to pay attention.

“That's the routine,” he says. His eyes wander around the room once more, falling back on you with a cold expression. His eyes are like frost, and you shudder at the sight of them. He tilts his head.

“You don't seem quite happy with your turnout,” he suggests, his eyes narrowing slightly in a questioning manner. You feel like your blood has just run cold. The anxiety seeps into your skin. “Why is that?”

You clench your jaw nervously, clearing your throat as you shrug. You tear your eyes away from him for just a moment and force yourself to look back immediately after.

Your voice is small and your attempt at lying fails because of it. “Why wouldn't I be happy?” you ask. “I have…” You glance around, trying to find something to point out before you seem too suspicious—uselessly, you already know you've been caught red-handed. “I have...a new house and—and prize money. And fans, apparently.”

You try not to be too disgusted by that—fans gained with the useless slaughter of children. A few months you've been out of that arena. And you still see the faces of all those children in your head wherever you go, the sounds of regret and their deaths deafened by the screaming cheers of the mindless crowd that celebrated you for it.

“I'm…” you take a breath, “all set.”

He doesn't believe you. Why would he?

“Yet you've barely moved in,” he points out, making a small circle in the place where he stands. He holds his arms out, as if to emphasize his point. “No pictures, little to no personal belongings. This house looks exactly as it did when you first moved in.”

You furrow your brows, tilting your head slightly. “You know what it looked like?” you question, a gentle and hopefully empty challenge.

He raises a brow. “I was the one who approved everything here. For your comfort, of course.”

Ah.

“No one lives here with you?” he wonders.

You shake your head tentatively. “No one to live with.”

His brows raise slightly. “No family? Friends?”

You clear your throat and shake your head once more.

He hums. “A little lonely, don't you think?”

You shrug, your arms crossing tighter over your chest as you turn slightly away. “I'm used to being alone.”

His eyes scan you up and down. “That's quite sad.”

You swallow thickly. “Doesn't matter to me.”

“Here you are all alone in your little District 7,” he says. The way he looks at you, his predatory gaze, it makes you feel so small. But his voice is soft, not as mocking as it should sound compared to his diction. “No friends, no family, and no care about the way it all is.”

You want him to leave, leave you alone to your loneliness, your quiet misery. If he is just going to stand there and call you an outcast, you don't see any reason that he should stay.

“Yeah. Your point?” You don't mean to sound so hostile but you couldn't help it.

He seems to smirk. “How would you like to change that?”

You could have gotten whiplash. You blink rapidly, licking your lip as you try to figure out if you heard him correctly. “What?” you ask.

“How would you like to change that?” So you had heard him right. “Be a little less lonely, You'd have money, friends, all of your needs would be taken care of.”

You don't trust him. Why should you? Why would Coriolanus Snow offer you all of this? Comfort and stability, a life of luxury?

At what cost?

“And you're offering this to me, why?” Attempting a little boldness, you uncross your arms and straighten your spine a bit. “What did I do? I mean…” you scoff, “I won, sure, but only by the skin of my teeth. And I'm sure you don't go around offering this to all your other Victors. What's so special about me, huh?”

There's a long silence where he just…stares at you. His face is completely unreadable, devoid of any type of emotion as he watches your face too closely.

Then a smile begins to curl his lips and he tilts his chin up just a slight. “You're right,” he says simply. Then his eyes look you up and down. “Truth is, I lied.”

You don't like the change in demeanor. It's a different kind of superiority than the one he displayed before. “I figured as much,” you reply, trying not to lose your confidence, though your voice does become a little quieter. “So what do you want? Why are you here?”

He tilts his head and steps toward you. You take an instinctive step back. “You're special,” he says. You scoff but he just shakes his head. “I can feel it. I wasn't lying about my offer. I came to give you more than…” he looks around and sighs, “an empty house with no pictures on the walls. As I said…all your needs would be taken care of.” The smallest shrug raises his shoulders. “With a price.”

There it is.

Again, you scoff. You cross your arms and roll your eyes and plop down on the couch. “Have I not paid enough?”

He walks toward you, and suddenly you regret putting yourself in such a physically vulnerable situation. “You're right,” he hums. “You have. I'm not asking much. Truth is…all I need is an assistant.”

You furrow your brow. “And you're choosing someone from District instead of Capitol?”

He takes a slow breath in, shrugging. “You suit my interests. Capitol does not.”

“So I have to, what, follow you around? Take orders from you?” You lick your lip. “And I get what exactly?”

He takes his hands from his pockets. “Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. Anything you could ever need or want.” He stops a moment, thinking to himself with a light hum. “You'd have to sign a contract, of course.”

You sigh, a million thoughts rushing through your head as you actually consider his offer. This is the man who literally designed your hell. He is one of the very people who forced you to fight for survival, to kill for it. For months, you've lived with nightmares full of slaughter and regret.

But for years, you've lived with isolation and solitude. He would give you everything. Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. A chance to start over, a chance to be a little less lonely.

But you are all too aware of the chance that this could all blow up in your face. This is Coriolanus Snow. He's not to be trusted, surely.

“And if I say no?”

He stands still for a moment, so still you wonder if he'd frozen in time. You have to urge yourself to hold his gaze. You can't seem afraid of him, you just can't.

Finally, Snow lets out a long sigh. He steps close, before turning and sitting next to you on the couch. He leans back, getting comfortable as he crosses his legs and sets his hands in his lap.

“Then you stay here,” he says plainly, shrugging before letting his gaze wander around the living room of this hollow home. “In this big…empty house.”

This big empty house. Your grand solitude.

Knowing the things you know now, you wish you could say that you would go back and change your decision. You wish you could say you'd go back and choose your loneliness over the dark nights you'd sucked yourself into.

You made a deal with the Devil. And you know that if you had the choice…you'd do it again.

I'm not above a love to cash in…

~

PART TWO: Paradise

A week later, you found yourself standing in the Capitol, in Coriolanus Snow’s office, with a contract and a pen in front of you. You scanned over the words, took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and signed your name on the dotted line at the bottom.

Snow gave you a large smile and sent an escort to show you to your new living quarters. In his house. Down the hall from his room.

And for the next couple of weeks, you've been to two separate welcome parties, two other Capitol parties, and six meetings as Snow’s new assistant. You've handled messages, documents, scheduling, and a variety of appointed tasks that have put you in positions so far above so many Capitol members, you briefly wonder if you've signed into a scam.

At first, there was…resistance among the people. There were insults that you were an animal, a bottom feeder, a whore, a parasite. But every person who had dared to insult you had gone missing the next day. No one made any questions, or remarks, after so many people mysteriously disappeared.

And, soon, you got comfortable. Because Snow held up his end of the bargain. You were comfortable, wealthy, made some friends who had taken a moment to get used to you (you suspect they're trying to be nice to you to earn favor from Snow, but at least you aren't being insulted anymore). You don't go hungry every night, you always have fresh clothes. Sure, your schedule was a bit stressful, but that was an adjustment that could be made. Asking for more would be selfish—and insane, what more could you want?

You were, on the levels that counted…happy, content.

In just a few weeks, you had settled in like you belonged. Well…maybe not to that extent, but the work became easy and the needless parties were much appreciated.

When someone knocks on your door, you're pulling your robe over your body as you walk over to answer it. One of the servants stands on the other side, looking tired from the day's work.

“Yes, Charlotta?”

“Mr. Snow has requested your presence in his study, ma'am,” she says.

You glance behind you at the clock in your room. “Now? It's so late.” You hum, “Alright, thank you. Go to bed. You must be exhausted.”

She nods thankfully and turns away. You're quick to pull your slippers on, pulling your robe tight around your nightgown before rushing down the hall. You don't want to be late to him.

You reach his door down the hall, taking in a breath and raising your fist. Your knuckles meet the door four times.

“Come in,” His muffled reply comes.

You turn the knob, opening the door. Peaking into the room, you slowly walk inside, standing by the door. “You called?” you speak gently.

Snow is slouched over his desk, his pen scrawling away at a file of papers in front of him. “I did,” he nods. There's a moment of silence between you as he finishes up the last part of his work.

He sets his pen down and sits up, his back straight as he sets his clasped hand over his lap and turns his full attention to you. “I have an urgent matter I need you to take care of.”

You close the door behind you, establishing some privacy. It must be important if he's asking you this late. He probably needs you to run some important documents to someone, or schedule another meeting with one of the ambassadors that came to one of his meetings today.

“Yes, sir?” you ask.

“Come here,” he says, making a come hither movement with his fingers. Clasping your hands behind your back, you walk toward his desk and stop in front of him. He clarifies, “Behind the desk.”

You tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you hesitate. You begin to take your first step, pause, and then make your way behind the desk.

He turns his chair as you come to stand in front of him, your hands held tightly in front of you. He sits there, staring up at you as his eyes rake over your body.

You shift from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the way he's looking at you. And again…silence.

“Get on your knees.”

All the heat escapes your body at the same time. A chill rushes up your spine. And once the initial shock has dissipated, a fire spreads across your flesh and you're burning up. You feel like your hands have begun shaking, so you shift them behind your back.

You have to find your voice again, clearing your throat timidly. “Sir?” you nearly stutter, clearing your throat again.

He shakes his head, amused by the timid look on your face. “I didn't stutter.”

You don't move, shocked to stillness. Snow sighs, standing to his feet and moving in front of you. He holds his chin up, looking down his nose at you to emphasize his superiority. You shrink underneath him.

“You're my assistant. You signed a contract,” he explains. “I take care of your needs, you take care of mine. No matter the request.”

You really should have read the fine print.

“Right now,” he continues, raising a hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek. Your eyes flutter lightly at the contact, holding your breath, afraid to breathe wrong and upset him. “My needs are for you to get on your knees and put your pretty mouth to good use. Then I'll do the same for you.”

Another shudder rushes through your spine. He pretends not to notice, but his smirk does deepen. Your lips part as you try to speak, unsure of what you'll say. “I…”

He drops his hand, lifting a brow expectantly. “Is there a problem?”

You clear your throat one more time, shaking your head and glancing away from his eyes, his intense, cutting blue eyes. “No, sir.”

He smiles. “Good.”

You glance up at him. His hand reaches up and grasps your chin. In the next moment, he's pulling you in as his lips crash down against yours. It's a possessive kiss, deep and devouring—controlling.

You have no choice but to kiss him back, letting your hands fall at your sides and lifting them up to his arms. You don't know where you're supposed to put them.

Just as you're leaning into the kiss, he pulls away from you and takes a step back. His lips, still parted and smiling, are wicked. He lowers himself into his seat, his legs wide open and his hands clasped in front of him. “As you were.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Taking an unsteady step forward, you slowly kneel to the floor. You hold your breath, avoiding his gaze as your shaky hands reach for his belt.

You undo it, pulling open his button and unzipping his pants. Exhaling, you nervously dip your hand into his pants and feel the warmth of his length against the pad of your fingers. You shudder, braving him as you pull him out of his pants.

And he doesn't disappoint.

Your eyes widen and you don't feel like it's real as you hold him in one hand. He's long with a nice enough girth that he will stretch you a bit. You curse under your breath, licking your lips as you glance up at Snow.

He smiles, watching you closely. Suddenly you feel naked. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, not cruelly.

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the pink tip of his cock. You let your lips part and let your tongue fall to the edge of your lip…

~

The soft red light of Coryo’s lamp glows dimly on your skin as his strong hand cards through your hair, balling into a fist to grip your locks at his own need. Your moans stutter deep in your throat where his cock sits, the tears spring to your eyes.

His tongue plunges inside of you, licking the honey from your folds as you arch your back and moan his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans into you at the sting of his scalp from your insistent grasp.

His lips press kisses to your back as you white-knuckle the headboard of his bed. His fingers dig into your hips, creating crescents in your flesh that crater your skin. He fucks you in long, hard strokes of his cock. His teeth are bared like a beast, his hair falls over his forehead, his groans are rough with lust.

The crashing of waves drowns you, explosions are set off deep within your body. His liquor fills your mouth, your throat, your belly. It's warm and sating, and he pulls you close to make sure you never stray from his hold.

And through the night, his arms never leave your body, his claws never leave your flesh…

~

It wasn't hard to get cocky after that. The Capitol was lavish, and it had a way of turning people to bathe in the lap of luxury. You slowly began to learn what kind of position you truly held here, and after months of being high-seated in the Capitol, you had begun to sink into your role.

Snow is the Head Gamemaker, you are his assistant. Everyone had to listen to you if they wanted to make it back home safe to their families. With a whisper in your boss’ ear, you could ensure no one ever spoke badly about you again.

Not that you have exercised that power yet, but you could. And Snow was happy to oblige.

After that first night in his room, your lips around his cock, his hand tangled in your hair, the pleasure didn't end. No, it's normal to find yourself tangled in his sheets, to find your head buried between his thighs (or vice versa), to have his name falling from your lips like you were praying to the gods that men had killed years and years ago.

You've become addicted to the taste of Snow, the smell of Snow, the feeling of Snow. It's an easy thing to overdose on.

Should you have been more careful?

Yes. Yes, you should have.

But Snow is an easy thing to get high on.

Katri spots you through the luscious crowd of one of the Capitol’s many needless parties with ease. Surrounded by nobles and benefactors, you brought your flute of champagne to your lips with a smile. A giggle erupts from your throat at one of the party-goers’ jokes—one that you didn't find particularly funny, but you've gotten really good at pretending.

Katri walks up to you, a tray of champagne in hand as she does. “Ma'am?” You turn toward her, smiling and grabbing a fresh flute from her tray with thanks. She clears her throat, “Mr. Snow has requested your presence.”

You hum gratefully. “Alright, I'll be there in a moment.”

You begin to turn around again but she insists. “He says it's urgent. He wants you immediately.”

Ah, then he's pent up. You wave a hand dismissively, sticking to your response. “Well, tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.” She gives you a hesitant look, and you smile. “He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it. Okay?”

She scoffs lightly, turning away. “Whatever you say.”

The anxiety in the air around her is palpable with the fact that she would have to return this news to Snow. She finds him in the same place she left him, surrounded by diplomats with his own—now empty—flute of champagne.

As she approaches him, he smiles politely. “Where is my little assistant?” he asks.

Katri clears her throat as she switches his glass out for a fresh one. “She said she'll be here in a moment.”

The shift in his attitude is so slight, it's easy to miss. But she notices the slight clench of his jaw, the faintest clutch of his fingers. “Did she now?” he questions, his head tilting a bit to the side.

She nods slowly, switching her tray to her other hand. “Her exact words were…” She clears her throat once more, not wanting to recite your words back to him. You must have been out of your mind. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.’ ”

He seems to know there's more to it because he bids her to continue. Her eyes glance away from him as she does. “She said, ‘He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’”

She can tell there's something else he wants to say but chooses not to as his smile becomes tight. “Thank you,” he says simply, politely.

She nods. “Yes, sir.” She walks away.

PART THREE: Reality

You smile a bit when you feel Coryo’s hand land on the side of your arm, grazing up the length of it to reach your shoulder. You look up at him, immediately noticing the stiffness of his grin.

I shoulda guessed that this would happen…

“Coryo,” you greet with a smile. He nods toward the people surrounding you, greeting them politely. He doesn't look at you, just begins to lead you away from them as he ducks his head nearer to your ear.

“My office.” His words are firm, with no room to refuse.

Still, like a fool, you say, “In a moment please? I–”

His smile does not falter, but his voice is a demand as he speaks through his teeth. His grip on your shoulder becomes tight. “Now.”

You clear your throat, your smile still intact but not as professionally kept as his own. You nod once, “Yes, sir.”

He walks away, but not in the direction of his office. You watch him leave, clearing your throat discreetly and dismissing yourself from those who try to speak to you. You go straight to his office, not daring to refuse him again.

When you're there, you find yourself pacing the length of the room uneasily, waiting for him to join you. But he doesn't join you, not immediately. He makes you wait, he makes you stir. You stew in your own anxieties, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to tell him to wait.

Him.

Coriolanus Snow.

He interrupts your thoughts ten minutes later—you know, you counted—opening the door and shutting it gently behind him. He doesn't meet your gaze as he walks past you dismissively. He rounds his desk, pulling open a drawer that holds his personal scotch.

In silence, he pours himself a glass. In silence, he takes a sip. In silence, he savors the taste on his tongue and refuses to look your way for even a second.

You bow your head as you wait for him to say something, anything.

And when he does speak, you suddenly wish he hadn't.

“You're ‘busy’?” he questions.

“Sir?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He smiles, turning to finally look at you. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’ ” He licks his bottom lip, scoffing as he shakes his head at your audacity. “You let those words come out of your mouth?”

You clear your throat as quietly as possible. “I…didn't think it was a big deal… I was on my way.”

He stares at you, unblinking. Then he takes another sip of his drink and sets it down again. He walks from behind his desk, rounding to the front and leaning against it.

“Do you think you're special or something?” He furrows his brow, as though he's confused. You want to sink into the floor, to let the world swallow you whole, to disappear. “What, because I fuck you, you can talk to me any way you want?”

He puts venom behind the word, enough force to ensure you felt it. You swallow thickly, wanting to step away but knowing that if you did that, you would only make matters worse.

“Look at me,” he demands. And immediately, you obey.

You speak quickly, trying to fix your mistake before it can get worse. “Coryo, I'm sorry. I–”

“You're not special,” he cuts you off, advancing toward you. He grabs your wrist, pulling it up sharp and pulling you close to his face, inches away. You can feel his breath on your cheeks. “I own you. You belong to me.” His voice is low, dangerous.

But you've still got some pride left over. And that would be your downfall…

“I don't ‘belong’ to an–”

“You're mine!” he exclaims, though he doesn't shout. There's force behind his words, and his voice raises to a more stern, more possessive growl as he shoves you back. You stumble to the floor, grunting from the pain that shoots up your arm from landing on your elbow. You look up at him, your eyes wide with fear.

I shoulda known it when I looked in your red hot eyes…

“That's what it says in your contract, or do you not remember?” He takes a step closer, standing over you. His voice is low and dangerous, but he has no use for yelling anymore as he speaks to you. “You take care of all my needs—no protests, no complaints. Those words say that you do whatever I want, whenever I want it, however I want it. And if you complain, I take away everything you know, drop you back in your sad little district, and put your name back in the raffle one hundred times over.”

You should have known it from the beginning. A deal so good had to come with a hell of a lot of strings. From the very beginning, he had been lying to you with the idea of a shiny new life.

Spewing all your red hot lies…

He stares at you, his jaw clenched, his breath slowing to a gentler seethe. He lifts his chin, collecting himself as he takes a steadying breath. He kneels in front of you, resting his elbow on his knee.

His voice is a whisper. “You belong to me.” His tone is final, definite. “If I say speak, you say?”

Your breath trembles with a mix of anger and fear as you look up at him, tears threatening to well in your eyes but refusing to breach the surface and give him the satisfaction. Your lips part, though you hardly give yourself space to speak.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“If I say jump, you say?”

“Yes, Coryo.”

His hand wraps around your throat, pulling you forward enough so that your faces are once again only inches apart. “And if I say open your mouth, you get on your knees and drop your jaw.”

You stare at him, your gaze so close to blurring as you sigh, choked up from his suddenly poor treatment of you. “Yes, Coryo.”

The smallest smirk creeps over his lips and threatens the rest of your already weak composure. He pulls you in and his lips press hungrily against yours. It's all teeth and tongue, biting your bottom lip and licking the top of your mouth. You want to resist, but you can't. His touch, however wrong, however killing, is addictive.

When he pulls away from your lips, you nearly seek him out, releasing a breath like he'd filled your lungs with smoke. Your skin picks with red hot spite at the tiny moan that slips through your lips.

He holds your throat a little tighter, not enough to stop your breath but enough to make the tips of your ears tingle. Enough to make the heat in your core grow.

“I own you,” he whispers. “You belong to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips part and shallow breaths pass pathetically through them before you finally respond, a whisper of your own. “Yes, Coryo.”

“I can't hear you.”

“Yes…Coryo.”

His grip loosens. “Good.”

He lets you go, standing to his full height once more as you take in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as your hand flies to your throat.

You watch his hands find his belt, undoing it with deft hands. “Now open your mouth,” he commands.

You swallow thickly, slowly adjusting yourself to sit on your knees. You glance away as you drop your jaw and stick your tongue out over your teeth.

“Look me in the eyes.”

You do, immediately. His blue eyes, hiding so many lies behind them that they brim with color. “Good girl.”

Your jaw ticks as you raise your hands to pull his cock from his pants, already hard from the power he holds over you.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself.

You wrap your lips around the tip, laving your tongue against the head before slipping it underneath him. Stroking the rest of you, you take special care in providing his pleasure as you let your lips suckle around him.

Up and down his length, you go, giving him your hot, wet mouth as he likes it—as he needs it. His hand tangles in your hair and grips it tight, guiding you just a bit to take him deeper down your throat. And you do. You take him as far as he'll go, keeping the gag awaiting at bay as you swallow around him.

I know you're poison. You're feeding me poison.

And when you think you've gone far enough, he holds you down and shoves the rest of him farther inside. Your lungs are tight, they burn with the lack of air. But you just hold onto his thighs and hope he grants you enough mercy for breath.

And when he pulls out enough for you to snatch that merciful breath, you can taste his precum on your tongue. And you waste no time in taking him again, up and down and up and down. Just like he likes it—just like he needs it.

He curses under his breath, holding you tighter as his desperation grows and grows. “Fuck, just like that,” he huffs, fighting to keep his eyes open as your tongue caresses the vein along the bottom of his cock.

His lips part, his eyes shut. He shoves you farther down on his cock as your good work pushes him over the edge. The warmth fills your mouth, down your throat in generous amounts of pent up stress. And you drink it up. Every drop. Like liquor.

Addicted to this feeling I can't help but swallow up…

You catch your breath as he collects himself once more, his chest heavy with the lust simmering down in his belly. He tucks himself away, back into his pants. And as he watches you, you lick your lips free of his poison.

He smiles wickedly, cupping your chin in his hand. “Good girl,” he praises again. You stare at him and say nothing else. He inhales, exhales, and straightens his back. “Come. We have a party to re-attend.”

You stand on unsteady feet, wiping your face clean just to ensure you aren't going back to the party with Snow’s cum on your lips.

He pulls his arm around your waist and leads you back.

At the first sight of you and Snow, the vultures swarm. “We were beginning to think you weren't coming back down,” one of them jokes.

Snow smiles, “Of course not. I just had some business to take care of. Isn't that right?” He turns to you expectantly.

You let your smile widen across your lips as you nod. “Yes, Coryo,” you say.

You can see the wicked beast glint happily in his eyes. Pleased, he turns away from you again to look at his hand, realizing it lacks the champagne flutes each of his guests hold in their hands. He smiles at you once more.

“Would you mind getting drinks for me and my guests?” he requests.

You avoid the clench of your jaw that you long to grant him, instead deciding to pull your smile into a wider grin and nod.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“Thank you,” he grins. He lifts a crooked finger to the underside of your chin, tapping it lightly. “And cheer up… It's a party.”

You give him a tight smile and walk away in the direction of the kitchens, which is currently bustling with people making another batch of the well-loved appetizers and refilling more glasses for the guests.

You pass by the champagne entirely to get to the, quite large, liquor cabinet. You pour yourself a hefty glass of scotch and gulp it down, braving the burn of your throat as you finish it with a sigh.

You replace the scotch, claim a tray, and walk out with the requested beverages. You hand them to Snow and his guest, a glorified waitress.

Taking your own flute, you hand the tray to a passing server and let the effects of the scotch sink into your bones.

You wouldn't call the rest of the night a blur, especially because you are completely aware of what was happening as you continued to mingle with the guests. You kept a hold of your wobbling tongue, and you remained civil and polite. Snow could tell there was something off—and of course he knew what it was—but you hadn't embarrassed him yet, so he let it slide.

And that night, when the guests took their leave and the party came to a close, you met Snow in his bedroom once more so he could more thoroughly remind you of who you belonged to.

And like the addict you are, you happily obliged.

~

PART FOUR: Lap Dog

You made sure not to forget your place again.

Weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and you were still seated at Snow's right hand as he climbed the ladder, dragging you along through the journey. You did everything for him, anything for him. That was your job. Whatever he asks of you is considered done as soon as the request passes his lips. Whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants. No matter what.

You sold your soul to the Devil, and you were addicted to the madness of your deal.

“I need you to give this to Snow.”

You're stopped in the middle of the hall by some woman with a stack of files in her arms. She's got a smug face, and you immediately don't like her as she grabs the file at the top of her stack and thrusts it out toward you.

You sigh, taking it as you begin to flip it open. “What is it?”

She pinches the top corner closed, shaking her head. “It's not your business to know, is it?”

You scoff, smiling as you tilt your chin up. The same way Snow does when he wants to stress his rank over another person's head. “Actually,” you wave her hand away from you, “as President Snow's assistant, it is my job to know anything and everything about what goes to and from his desk.” You take a step toward her, looking down on her just as he would. “So I ask again, what is it?”

There's a long pause as she stares at you, her eyes dark with the hatred and prejudice that bleeds from her gaze. Capitol taking orders from District? It's unheard of…

You would think, since you've been here so long, that they'd learn that you rank higher than they ever will. They don't have to like you, but whether they like it or not, they have to listen to you.

It wasn't hard to become cocky, but cocky was something you learned. This woman, whoever she was, was born with it. And that was a plague that would be the end of her.

She huffs quietly. “It's the request he made for some documents.” Your brow furrows slightly. A mistake. Now she believes she knows something you don't. Now she believes she has the upper hand. Her tone betrays her. “Something about the Games’ Victors.”

You don't know what this is. You've heard nothing of the sort.

But she keeps saying “something”. You want specifics. Does she not have it? “You don't know?”

“Of course I know,” she lays a delicate hand over her delicate chest. For a moment, you wonder if she's ever had to do any kind of work (you know she hasn't). She wouldn't last a second…

“And I'd elaborate,” she continues, pulling you from your thoughts, “but I, quite frankly, don't want to tell you, and you probably couldn't read it to figure it out for yourself.” Your jaw tenses at her unfounded insult. You don't respond. “I mean, that's why you want me to explain it to you, isn't it?”

I got so good at being untrue.

You sigh forcefully, a long, deep sigh to try and control yourself. “Excuse me?” Does she truly dare to challenge you in such a way?

“You heard me,” she replies, unblinking.

Clearly, she thinks you're an idiot. A stupid, incompetent idiot. You want to take her words and shove them back down her throat. You want to grab her by the hair and drag her around like the dog she seems to think you are.

But you can't. You must remain civil, so the only way you can try to hurt her is through your words.

You don't need trouble with Snow for embarrassing him…

“Ah,” you scoff, lifting your chin again to keep your superiority. “So you're stupid?”

The blatant insult has her clutching her pearls. Obviously, she wasn't expecting that kind of bluntness from you.

You smirk at her reaction, no longer collected. You have the upper hand once more.

“You really think it's a good idea to talk to me like that? Me? President Snow's second hand?” You don't love playing that card, but it's a play that will almost always work for you.

No one would dare object to President Snow.

She hums, trying to seem unphased. “You're right,” she says, “I probably shouldn’t speak to Coriolanus Snow’s little pup like that.” Her face contorts into one of mocking sorrow, her lip jutting out and her brows furrowing. “She might get sad and go tell her master on me.”

Little pup. Little pup.

Flashes of late nights spent in Coryo’s room, nights where his stress gets the better of him and he decides to take it out on you, nights where he spanks you and calls you names and takes you hard and rough, cross behind your eyes. “My dumb little girl, my pathetic little whore, my pitiful little pup.”

And you would let him, you would encourage him. You would moan and writhe and bend to his will. And your fists tighten at the memory. They clench with rage and regret and the desire to be more than an animal.

You aren't an animal, you are a human fucking being.

I got so good at telling you what you wanna hear. I disassociate, disappear.

Baring your teeth and losing composure, you huff. You're seething as you speak. “I am not his pup.”

She chuckles, finally striking a nerve as she lifts her brows. “Aren't you? His little lap dog.” She puts emphasis on each word, ensuring the ‘G’ hurts. She walks toward you, but you don't move. You stand your ground. You aren't scared of her.

You're going to fucking kill her.

Foolishly, she continues on. “You think just because you won the Games and he decided to take pity on you, that gives you any real power?”

You scoff. Pity. He doesn't know the meaning of the word.

“You're his whore,” she spits. It doesn't anger you because it's true, it angers you because no one even knows about that part of your deal, and she's accusing you of being a whore because of who you are.

Her face is inches from yours, her voice trying to be lower, though it's so naturally snooty that it's hard to reach that threatening level. She sounds like a child. And her sneer makes you want to treat her like one.

“You're a fucking slut. Just a little District animal who got lucky.”

Your anger flares. You grit your teeth. You lower your voice, successfully, and nearly growl.

“You wanna say that again?”

She smirks wickedly. “You are a whore.”

You walk toward her. She's standing so close that she is forced to step back with the stutter of her heels scraping the floor.

“You forget,” your lips turn in a venomous smile, fueled by rage and violent tendencies you're trying your best to hold back, “I fucking won the Games. I killed tributes with my bare hands, and you want to challenge me?”

And you see the flash of fear behind her eyes at the reminder, though she tries to hide it. But you know fear. You've felt it slice your flesh, you've used it to slice other's flesh. You know the biting and the tearing and the clawing of fear, and you can see it clear in her eyes even as she tries so hard to hide it.

Being afraid is the smartest thing she's done since she decided to open her mouth.

“You aren't going to do anything,” she says, as a defense more than an accusation, a reassurance for herself more than a taunt for you. “You'll just tuck tail and run to master–”

You're done being civil. You're done rolling over and showing your belly. You're done bowing your head and taking orders.

If they are going to treat you like an animal, you'll behave like one.

And she meets the blunt end of your rage with a fist to the face. Stacks of files smack loudly in a pile on the floor. You clip her cheek with the ring on your finger, and you huff at the pleasure that comes with defending yourself.

Her face whips to the side. It's a full body reaction. She staggers, crying out as her hand flies to her face, unable to take the heat of your violence. She looks back at you, her eyes wide with fear, too much to have room for anger.

You don't give her the chance to make room for it either. You punch her again on the same side, this time letting your fist connect with her brow. And when she stumbles again, you shove her back so she falls to the floor.

The sounds of her pain are loud and evident. But the bliss you gain from them is only so perfect because she deserves it.

And as you straddle her body, you can smell her fear just as well as you can see it. You can taste it like the blood she tastes on her tongue as you hit her again, and again, and again.

“What is going on here?”

You're off of her in an instant—and it's no scramble. You maneuver off of her with ease and scoop up your files once more, straightening your spine as you stand back and join Snow's side with one hand behind your back, bloodied knuckles and all. You sniff, the rueful look on your face taking a moment to dissipate as you replace it with civility.

You are a human being.

You don't look at Coryo’s face. You know it's covered with anger and disappointment. It's worse if he's stone cold. You can salvage this…

The woman rolls over onto her side, holding her nose delicately as she struggles to her feet. Tiny gasps and painful moans slip from her lips. She got what she deserves.

“Sorry, sir,” you say, obviously lying.

Suddenly, you feel like you should have punched her one more time. Because she begins to laugh. It's a bubbling laugh that you're sure is hurting her.

You can't do anything now. Not while Snow is here.

She shakes her head, licking her split lip and wincing through her laugh. Snow finds that more offensive than your empty apology, more offensive than even your savage display of violence.

“What's your name?” he demands.

She straightens up just a bit more. She also doesn't seem to understand the situation because she has a snarky grin on her face that says that she believes she's coming out of here on top. But those odds are not in her favor.

“Ellyn Halper,” she says.

“Ms. Halper.” He watches her, looking her up and down, his eyes strict and cold. He makes her squirm, even as she looks confidently at him. “You're fired.”

The news hits her like a train. She steps back, faltering, the horror crossing her face. “What?” She scoffs, glancing between the two of you as she shakes her head. “She attacked me!”

“And she wouldn't have attacked someone unprovoked,” he raises a brow. You try not to smile at him taking your side—and it's easy, because they talk about you like a misbehaved pet. “She must have had good reason. Clean out your desk and get out of my sight.”

She lingers, disbelief painting her features and mixing with her anger. When she doesn't move, Snow tilts his chin down and glares.

“Now.”

It's here that her rage outweighs her sense. She loses it. “You're going to protect this animal over Capitol?” she yells, pointing at you.

Still riding the high of your violence, you bare your teeth. “I'm not–”

“Quiet,” Snow snaps.

You shut your mouth.

Ellyn shakes her head, her lips twitching. She looks straight at you, sighing. She steps forward, stopped by Snow's warning hand. She leans in, “You're a disgrace.”

Snow can't have such blatant disrespect.

“Pack your bags, Ms. Halper,” he says. “I'm sending you to the districts.” Her horror is palpable. “We'll see who the animal is. I'm sure they would love to get their hands on Capitol.”

Snow doesn't give her any more attention. He turns and walks away, your impending punishment terrifying as you listen to his steps. You huff gently at her, slowly allowing your lips to split into your triumphant grin.

Snow calls your name. Your lips fall. You turn.

“Lap dog,” she spits.

Your jaw ticks. You turn again, and watch her step back. Your lips part, but before any sound can actually breach your lips, Snow calls your name again, firmer this time.

You huff, harder this time, and leave. You try to wipe the sight of that terrible smile on her bloodied face from your memory.

~

“What was that?”

He's pissed. His jaw ticks as he sets his hands on his hips.

But there's enough anger to go around.

Smacking the files on the desk, just as loudly as before as you jut your finger out towards them in accusation, you counter, “What is this?”

He dismisses you carelessly. “That's my business. Not yours.”

Before he can speak again, you cut him off, speaking quickly and concisely. ���In my contract, it says I take care of your needs. It also says that I am your secretary and personal assistant. I handle your accounts, your documents, everything—so that means this is my business.” Stepping close to his desk, you lean forward toward him and lower your voice. “What is this about?”

Instead of answering you, he straightens his back and lifts his chin. With an amused scoff, he smirks lightly. “You actually read your contract.”

You don't appreciate his taunts. You read the full extent of your contract years ago, and you make sure to reread it every month to ensure you've memorized every detail. If he's got you on a tight leash, you need to know how much room you actually have to move.

“Coriolanus,” you huff. You wish you could say you won't say it again, but he'd make you repeat a million times if he felt like it. And you would have to obey. “What is it about?”

He's silent as he thinks to himself, contemplating. How does he answer your question without giving you the power and the luxury of a response?

But it's easy for him to remember that he will always have the power. He will always have the upper hand.

He breathes in, and you watch his lips curve. “The Victors.”

“I heard that,” you say. “What about them?”

His smile grows. The mischief and cunning lights up in his eyes. He places his hands in his pockets, rounding his desk as he leans back on it, crossing his ankles as he does. “This deal between you and I works pretty well, I'd say.”

You clench your jaw, unhappy with where this conversation is leading. You shake your head, “And?”

“And,” he shrugs, “there are and will be plenty more victors out there fit to do the same.”

You lose some of your bravado, your anger and confidence replaced by hesitant disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sometimes you forget that Snow was, in truth, an evil man. Between your nights of passion and unnecessary gifts, it's easy to forget about the monster underneath his façade of fancy suits and beautiful roses.

He circles your body, like predator to prey…as always.

“I make sure people stay interested in the Games. And people like to keep up with our Victors,” he turns toward you suddenly. “I mean, they seem to take plenty of interest in you.”

You shake your head, your voice weak, “Coryo.”

He ignores you, continuing on. “These Victors are interesting. And some are considered to be quite…attractive in some senses.” He stops in front of you, smiling evilly. “A contract here and a signature there–”

“Coryo,” you try again, your voice trembling this time.

“–and these rich cats can have a Victor all to themselves.”

“Coriolanus.”

He stops, watching you expectantly as you try to wrap your head around his vile proposal.

They didn't deserve this. These Victors have already been through so much and he wants to add more grief and misery to their lives?

You were already lost the moment he stepped foot in your house, the moment you signed that contract, the moment you fell to your knees in his office and had your first taste of him. There was no hope for you now.

He'd gotten you addicted a long time ago…

“These are people,” you all but beg, clasping your hands together in hopes of persuading him away from his sadistic plans, “they're human beings. They aren't animals for you to sell.”

He makes a face, smiling wide as he leans in. “They are animals.” You expected this response, but it still hurts for him to say it so indisputably. “And they're for me to do whatever I want with.”

You clench your teeth and watch him turn away again, reclaiming the file and dropping it into a drawer he pulls open. “And besides, they won't be sold indefinitely.” He looks up at you with that sly grin of his. “The Capitol should be able to have their fill…”

You scoff. “Oh, so they're not just your slaves, they're your prostitutes.” You can't believe him, though you know you should.

He’d done it to you. What was stopping him from doing it to the rest?

Hopefully, you.

“They're my pets,” he counters. He leans forward onto his desk. And he's so tall, that he manages to lean in so much that he can see each little fleck of your irises as you stare unblinkingly at him. “Just like you.”

You nod, pursing your lips. “Okay, then I'm your pet.” You lean in as well, this time. You lean in so close that he has no choice but to shift away from you. “Not them.” You lick your lip and round the desk, wanting so desperately for him to hear your voice for once.

You plead, because it's the only thing you can do. Your voice is quiet, desperate, weak. Just the way he likes it.

“Let them go. You do enough to them, they don't deserve this.”

He doesn't hear you. He doesn't care.

“They deserve whatever I decide.”

Your jaw tenses, your thoughts scrambling to figure out a solution. Any solution. You just need to persuade him, to change his mind. This doesn't need to happen.

But his eyes are so cold, so stoney, so lying. There's no sympathy there and there will never be sympathy there. So you try to sway him in the way you know best.

You drop to your knees, skilled and shaky hands grasping his belt as you begin to undo it quickly. “What are you doing?”

The metal clinks as you work at it, pulling it free from the first loop as you begin to take the latch from its adjusted position. “Changing your mind,” you answer plainly. As you loosen the belt, tugging on it to remove it from the loops of his pants. “This is what you want, isn't it? You're just trying to rile me up to get me to do what you want. I'll do it–”

“Get the fuck off me.”

He pushes you away, shoving you onto the floor like you're nothing. And to him, you are. Nothing.

He doesn't seem angry, just annoyed at your audacity… And then he seems amused. His face lifts and he begins to smile. His smile turns to a chuckle, and he shakes his head as he looks down at you, purely amused by your attempt at persuasion.

“Oh, I get it,” he laughs, walking toward you to properly tower over your meek body. “You think that because I fuck you that I actually care about what you want.” He pronounces the F to hurt, punching it while also saying it with such disregard that it truly shows how little it means to him… Nothing.

He kneels down, resting his arm on his knee and watching you with those taunting eyes. “This isn't about you,” he whispers. Though his voice is soft, it cuts like a knife. Your hands tremble as they lift you up.

He spews his poison without restraint. “You are an animal. And yes, you are my lap dog.”

He feigns sympathy and remorse that he isn't capable of. “You think I swooped in earlier and punished that stupid girl because she talked down to you? I punished her because you're mine, and if I let someone get away with disrespecting my things, no one will respect me.”

He spews all his hatred, and you take it all. “I couldn't care less that she called you an animal or a whore or whatever the fuck else because you are.” It's a slap in the face each time as his voice becomes more and more hateful. “You're my pet, and you're my whore. You belong to me.”

So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp.

You stare at him, your face fallen as you seem to learn your lesson for the thousandth time. You're nothing to him. You're just property, and you mean nothing.

He smirks, standing to his full height once more as you remain tossed to the floor. You stare at him, your fight diminished.

“Speak.”

Like a dog.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Obedient.

“Smile.”

It looks like a sneer.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Well-trained.

Your lips part as you open your mouth, dropping your jaw as you've been doing for years.

And though that satisfies him beyond all belief, that satisfaction is all he needs. “Close your mouth.”

Nothing.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Your monotonous tone falls silent as you await his next command, a dog waiting for orders from her master.

He bends down, grasping the front of your shirt in his fist and pulling close. His face is inches from his. You don't fight him, you don't resist in any way. You let him move you as he pleases, staring blankly at him.

He looks about the length of your face. His smile is wholly evil. “Don't forget what you are.”

Quiet, broken, weak is your voice. Just the way he likes it.

“Yes, Coryo.”

He hums, letting you go. “Good girl.”

~

PART SIX: Addiction

You hear the footsteps coming down the hall and ignore them all the same. Flipping the next page in your book, you sigh gently and pull your legs closer toward you. Just a couple more sentences is all you ask…

Your door opens without a knock, and you aren't surprised. This is his home, you are his pet. Why ask permission for something which belongs to him?

You force yourself to meet Coryo’s gaze, the exhaustion in your eyes clear. He's in the same clothes as before, though his hair is more relaxed and his shirt is looser, the top few buttons undone to let his chest peek from its hiding spot. With one last sigh, you close your book.

You slip off the bed, easing down to your knees. Letting your hands rest in your lap, you allow your jaw to drop open wide, ready to receive him as you push your tongue out over your bottom teeth.

He smirks lightly, his chuckle even lighter. “Down girl.” You close your mouth.

“How do you want me?”

He sighs gently, closing the door behind him and slowly walking inside. “Believe it or not,” he says, his voice gentle, “I'm not here for me, I'm here for you.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed and suspicious. “Why?”

Your attitude amuses him. He shrugs, taking a seat at the edge of your bed and looking down at you. It doesn't feel as condescending as it usually does. “Making up.”

Foolish hope sparks in your chest, but you don't let it show. “So you're not going through with it.”

“No, I am.” He hums, “But I can't have my pet neglected, now can I?”

You sigh, turning away from him. You don't know why you asked.

He pats the spot next to him. “Get back on the bed, my flower.”

You look down at your hands as you rub at your pinky. “Yes, Coryo.”

As you sit up, taking the spot next to him, he tuts gently. “Now, now. No need for that tonight,” he says, closing the gap between the both of you.

You look up at him, your attitude fully present still. “Yes, Coryo.”

He sighs. Coryo sets a hand on your knee, turning toward you. “You're upset,” he says. You scoff. “That's understandable. I upset you.”

You want to say something snarky, but you're on thin ice from today, and you don't need to make it thinner. You turn away, but he catches your gaze as he takes your chin with his crooked finger and turns you to face him again.

And you hate yourself for feeling cared for.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You hate the way you nearly melt. “You can make it up to me by letting them go.”

He hums, shrugging. “Or I can eat you out.” You feel like you might shake at the idea. When you don't speak, he raises his brows. “Unless you just want me to leave…”

He's manipulating you. You know he is. He's been doing it since the beginning. You'd think you had some sort of defense against him at this point, but he's had years of practice in bending you to his will, in getting you hooked on him.

He knows. He knows what you are.

You're feeding me poison.

And you give in. Because you've never been strong against him, not even for a moment. You give in because you're so addicted to him that you'd die without the taste of him on your tongue…

With a long sigh, you lay back against your pillows and spread your legs. His smile spread across his face in such a wicked way, self-satisfied and fully amused.

He sets a hand on your knee and shifts himself to kneel in front of you. He slowly pulls your panties down your legs and pushes your nightgown away, teasing you and increasing your still-there frustrations.

Yes, you've lost the ability to resist this man and his sexual prowess, but that doesn't mean you want to draw this out. It's shameful enough…

He knows this. That's why he does it.

His lips press to the inside of your knee, then further down your thigh, and then right back up. You huff silently, annoyed with his antics.

He gives you a disarming smile. “Come now, my flower,” he tuts. “I may be spoiling you but that doesn't mean we don't still have our manners.”

You lay your head back, sighing as you let your eyes shut. You lick your bottom lip. “Please, Coryo.”

He hums. “I am sure you can do far better than that.”

Maybe you should cry. Maybe if you cry, he'll think you're ugly and leave you to live back in your lonely home at Seven. He'll think you're too worthless to go back into the Games. You could sober up the hard way… He'll leave you be.

But you know Coriolanus, which means you know that would never happen. He'd tsk, tsk, tsk and tell you how perfect you look crying. He'd hold you down and fuck you and tell you to be a good girl and keep crying for him. And you would. You know would.

Besides, if he did cast you out, he would just choose someone else to take your place. Then he would do this to them.

Better you than someone else.

You look up at him, screwing your face into a self-pitying expression. Your voice is small and meek when you open your mouth.

“Please, Coryo,” you whisper, “I'm yours.”

Just the way he likes it.

Pleased, he presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, and then lets the flat of his tongue lick along the seam of your pussy. A whimper slips from your lips at the feeling, and you let yourself fade into the pleasure.

You forget that this man is your captor, your master. You forget that he's the reason for your nightmares. You forget that he's dark, cruel, sadistic, that he does not truly care for you.

You lose yourself in the fantasy that he is a loving man who only wants to see you happy.

“Coryo,” you moan as he suckles eagerly at your clit, a man starved of his sweet wine. Coryo. Not Coriolanus. Not Snow. Your Coryo. Your gentle, loving Coryo. The man who held you when he wasn't forcing you to your knees and bidding you to be his good girl.

His fingers stroke inside of you, two long fingers curling with you as his tongue flicks at your clit. The stretch of his fingers is welcome, and you look down at his head nestled between your thighs. You whine at the feeling of his tongue, hungry and searching.

His dull nails dig into the flesh of your thigh. As his tongue delves inside of you with his lips suckling around you, you feel his nose press deliciously against the sensitive bundle of nerves, which aches for release.

Circling his head, your legs wrap around him and squeeze, the tension tightening in your belly as he works eagerly at your pleasure. You're helpless to him as sounds rise from your throat like a gentle hum. Again, you whisper his name, lost to the feeling of him. He grunts into you, your body warm with the vibration, with the warmth of his mouth, with the warmth of his hands on your thighs.

“Coryo,” you whimper as you feel your pleasure rising within you, tingling in your legs and in your toes. Your open-mouthed breaths make your throat dry, but it’s hard to focus on that when each breath you take fills your chest with more and more desire. “I’m so close,” you gasp. “Please, can I cum?”

Instead of answering, he just sucks harder on your clit, prying your thighs further apart as he licks you up. As that coil tightens in your belly, your legs tremble and almost fight against his grip keeping them apart. You grind your hips up to meet his face, he holds you down.

You know how he likes it—the grinding, the moaning, the pleading, the strength. And when the pleasure crashes down on you, your clit pulsing against each lick of his tongue as he continues to work you, you shut your eyes and let out the breathy moans he loves so much. Your chest is full of warmth.

I’m choking on this feeling I can’t help but swallow up.

“C-Coryo,” you mutter, the sensitivity becoming too much as your legs continue to tremble. You arch away from him, but he holds you tight and pulls you closer. He forces your legs apart still, not quite finished as he continues to suckle around your sensitive bud.

You gasp when he finally pulls away, satisfied with the taste of you. “What a good girl you are,” he murmurs, smiling almost wickedly—though you replace it with one full of love and care. One can only dream.

He crawls up your body, stalking like a predator as he leans in, his face inches from yours. You bring your hands up to his cheeks and pull him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the passion you can muster. He cares, he cares, he cares.

He cares as he traces his tongue along the seam of your lips. He cares as he smooths his hand along your soft thigh. He cares as he brings your leg up against his side and grinds his hips against you. He cares as he digs his dull nails into your flesh like the claws of a lion. He cares as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip like the fangs of a wolf.

He definitely cares as he brings a strong hand to your hair and tangles his fingers there with every intention of tugging you back to see your face. You whimper lightly, sinking into it and pretending the burn of your scalp is just the heat of your desire.

I made my choice and every night I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, and you fully understand the unspoken “like this” that follows his words but you choose to ignore it.

He kisses you again, this primal, devouring kiss you gladly mistake for ardor. He takes the bottom of your nightgown in his hand and pulls it up and over your head. You let him take it off of you. You let him strip you bare as his greedy hands smooth along the length of your body. Tentatively, not fully committed (you would be perfectly content with his lips on yours, kissing him forever under the illusion of simple intimacy), you pull at his belt. He undoes it and pulls it off entirely. You think he’ll toss it away, but it doesn’t.

“Open your mouth.”

Obediently, you do. He wraps the belt around your head, fitting it in your mouth as he loops it behind and pulls it tight. You nearly wince at the feeling, but he’s done worse. He unbuttons his pants, leaning down as he presses his lips to your neck. He kisses and sucks and nips at your throat, and you both let out deep moans that rumble in your chest when he presses inside of you.

You lean your head back, giving him more space to paint your neck in his claim. The taste of leather is strong on your tongue. Each breath you take is full of the earthy scent of his belt. You set your hands on his waist as he braces his fists on either side of your head. His thrusts are deep and rough. You feel his hips as he moves, his slender waist fits perfectly between your legs.

Your moans are muffled by his belt. As you dig your heels into his back, encouraging each thrust as he gives them, he grunts at the way you tighten around his cock. His hips snap into you with a greed that makes you crazy, that drives him wild. Taken by the pleasure, he grabbed the belt behind your head and pulled it in a way that made you look up at him.

His lips are plump from kissing you so roughly, his hair is loose and falling in delicate locks across his forehead, his breath fans gently across your own face. He looks pretty like this. Even with the predatory gaze in his eyes, he looks pretty. You want to kiss him but you don’t. You can’t.

He breath stutters in his throat after a particular thrust, and your eyes flutter shut as you moan at the feeling. He continues to fuck into you, like it’s the last time. There’s nothing gentle about it, nothing sweet or nice or careful. He fucks you to his own need, but knows you well enough that it would fill you with so much pleasure that it doesn’t matter if he does it for him.

And he knows you well enough that the lack of care he has in his thrusts fills you with so much longing that he doesn’t need physical pain to be sadistic.

He pulls out of you suddenly, his breath coming out in hot puffs as he leans back on his haunches. “Turn around,” he orders, though his voice is quieter—there’s no real need to bark with you.

Anyway you want me, baby, that’s the way you got me.

You do as you’re told, ignoring the discomfort in the loss of him inside of you as you sit up and move as quickly as you can with the sluggish nature of your desire for him mixing with your depletion. As soon as you’ve turned around, he doesn’t care to give you time to adjust to the new position before he’s grabbing the belt again, wrapping it around his fist, and taking your hip in his other hand as he shoves his cock into you once again.

You go to hang your head, the feeling too great, but you’re stopped by his grip of the belt. Setting the quickened pace at the beginning, he fucks into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin smacking against yours fills the room. A light sheen of sweat coats your body as the heat fills you inside and out. His name is muffled on your lips, but his grunts are clear in the air.

His hand on your waist circles around as he presses his fingers to your still-sensitive clit. He rubs fast circles against it, building you up, up, up. You can’t help but whine, you can’t help but feed his hunger as he fills you with pleasure. Your legs tremble, and with his skill, it isn’t long until he hurls you into your second orgasm.

You throw your head back and moan, the sound rough with your desperation. But he doesn’t stop. He isn’t finished. He fucks your sensitive cunt. His eyes flutter at the tightening of your cunt.

You feel so weak, tired from the exertion but not fully satisfied until you’ve given him all that he needs. You’ve been with this man for years and the conditioning settled in a long time ago.

I’ll be yours.

So, yes, he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going. He takes you on your back, he takes you on your hands and knees, he takes you against the wall (front and back), he takes you in his lap, and he never stops each time until you’ve come apart in his hands. Pent up with so much stress and spurred on by the fatigue in your eyes, he lasts through it all.

You don’t know how long you’ve been going by this point. All you know is the rhythm of his hips thrusting in and out and in and out as he pushes you down into the bed with your ass pulled up against his hips and your face buried in a pillow. His hands push against your back, keeping you down still. You can hear his breath, heavy with his own nearing exertion. His thrusts are beginning to lose their rhythm, becoming more and more desperate with his nearing release.

You can hardly keep your eyes open. All your breaths have been reduced to shallow whimpers, and as his finger presses against your clit again, a mewl slips from your throat as it pleads for relief and release alike. You hear him begin to curse under his breath, his thrusts rougher though not as steady. And he presses you further still as he moves closer, seeking his relief as it gets so close, he can taste it.

And, because you know him just as well as he knows you, you tip him over the edge as you let your lips part. Your voice is small and meek and whiny, a needy little cry that he hears because he craves it. “Coryo.”

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

He fucks you hard in the first few seconds that he spills into you, his cum hot and plentiful as he moves himself farther against you as if he could go deeper still. And as his fingers flick at your clit, you accompany his needy moan with your own as you cum as well. You’re blinded by the feeling, left mewling as your eyes well with tired tears. It’s almost uncomfortable and you wince slightly when he presses a little too deep into you.

Coryo lingers there, his breath evening into a steadier rhythm as he eases off of you. You take in a full breath as he pulls out of you, closing your eyes and going limp against the sheets. Your body is so heavy, full of the exhaustion that has haunted you for years, exhaustion that comes with belonging to Coriolanus Snow. You wish you could slow down, take a breath, but whatever Snow wants, Snow gets.

My story’s gonna end with me dead from your poison.

Coryo runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. He picks your nightgown up from the floor and wipes the both of you clean with the smallest modicum of care. You feel his knuckles brush against your shoulder and you shiver as he lets it graze gently along your spine. He stops it at the dip of your back.

Coryo turns off your bedside lamp, crawling into the bed as he shifts behind you, a gentle hand falling to your side as he pulls you into his body. And you actually find comfort in his arms as he pulls you closely to his body. His head rests in the crook of your neck, your body is pulled flush against his. His warmth seeps into your skin and you let your eyes flutter shut as he pulls the covers over your bodies.

And for a moment, everything is perfect. For a moment, you trick yourself into believing that this man can be capable of love.

But you feel his arms tightening around you until your lungs are so tight that it’s nearly impossible to breathe. You feel his nails, eager and greedy, digging into your flesh, and you wince at the terrible sting of them. He pulls you closer, not just seeking your warmth, but seeking full control and possession over something that already belongs to him. You silence your whimper.

I’m drowning in poison. I keep fillin’ my glass but it’s always hollow, full of poison.

When you can get past the pain of his embrace, you manage to lull yourself to sleep. You rest in his clutch and indulge in the false security of his empty arms.

But your rest is short-lived. Because halfway through the night, he wakes. Coryo opens his eyes and loosens his hold on you. You rouse from your own sleep but you stay perfectly still with closed eyes and steady breath. He lets go of you completely, getting out of the bed and leaving the room with silent steps. He has work to do.

I’m sick of the poison.

Once the door is closed, you’re left cold and alone. You curl up in on yourself, turning your head into the pillow as you feel the dam break. And like an idiot, you cry into your pillow. Your chest stutters with all the pain and weariness and hopelessness you carry with you through the day, through the night. You let it out, but it never seems to fade. And as the fatigue takes over once more, you let it take you into a sleepless kind of sleep where your nightmare of holding love in your hands plays in your mind over and over and over again.

Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.

Coriolanus Snow taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess Tag yourself here...

[euphemiaamillais]

in the mood to worship president!coryo in his office 🥲🥰i want him to call me the dirtiest shit while i try my best to please him

-🎀anon

giggles

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader x early pres snow | oral (m)

being the presidents wife had many perks. for one, you had such a handsome husband who hated everyone but you. you were rich, you could get anything you wanted. but the best part? worshipping your handsome husband whenever you pleased to do so because he could never say no to his precious wife taking care of him.

so when you visited coryo in his office while he was supposed to be staying in the office late, he knew what you wanted. which led to you on your knees underneath coryo’s desk as he reviewed documents about happenings in the districts with his cock in your mouth.

you bobbed your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to add to coryo’s pleasure. he had one hand on your head while the other held a pen. but his concentration was certainly not on the documents in front of him. “you dirty whore,” he groaned, bucking his hips into your mouth. “visiting me while i’m working all because you want my cock in your mouth? how very whorish of you.”

his dirty words caused you to moan around his length. a response that was practically screaming “yes, sir. love your cock in my mouth so much.”

coryo let out a moan, throwing his head back in pleasure as you continued your movements on his cock. “fuck,” he said, his fingers gripping your hair. “gonna swallow my cum like a slut?” he asked, looking down at you.

you looked up at coryo, meeting his icy gaze as you continued sucking his cock. you hummed in response, as if pretty much begging for his cum. “god you’re such a fucking slut,” he moaned. he began thrusting his hips into your mouth, meeting your mouth each time you went down on his length. “always sucking my cock so good.”

and soon coryo was cumming, shooting his load down your throat as you took it all in. you swallowed each rope, sucking him through his orgasm. and when he finished, you lifted your head, looking up at your wonderful husband. he caressed your hair. “good girl,” he said lovingly. “perhaps i should reward you, hmm?”

you smiled, preening from the praise. you nodded your head. “yes, please,” you said.

coryo let out a soft chuckle, helping you onto his lap. “then let me reward you, baby.”

[euphemiaamillais]

fucking mentor!coryo after the games (pt. 2 to the thanking mentor!coryo)

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader | p in v, unprotected sex, praise kink, etc.

part two of this ask

being the winner for the 10th annual hunger games, you couldn’t have done it without your handsome and wonderful mentor, coriolanus snow. the one who had cheated in the games in order for you to win. and you were so very grateful to him. after you had initially thanked him, you had been sent back to district 12 for awhile, spending time with your family and friends who all congratulated you for winning the games.

until one day you were told you’d be going back to the capitol to attend a party for the week. the members of the capitol loved you so much that they wanted you back as a welcomed and cared for guest. and you were happy to oblige as it meant the possibility of seeing coriolanus snow once more.

the night you had arrived back in the capitol, you were escorted to a lavish building and greeted by the esteemed citizens. but the best part about your arrival? coriolanus snow stood there at the building, with a white rose, looking handsome and as charming as ever as he looked at you.

the party you were to attend wasn’t for two days so you had time alone in an apartment, mostly on your own other than a few peacekeepers that were outside of the loft, leaving you and coriolanus alone, looking at one another. coryo reached a hand up, moving a piece of hair of your face. “my wonderful victor,” he smiled softly.

“my handsome mentor,” you smiled back. you grabbed his hand, holding it in yours. you felt so indebted to your coryo. so you must thank him again. he deserves it, truly.

a seemingly so innocent gesture led to you being on your back, in the lush bed that the capitol provided for you, as coryo plunged his cock in and out of you. you moaned, your hands clawing at coryo’s back. “oh my god!” you moaned as coryo’s hips moved against yours.

“such a good girl,” coryo praised, thrusting into your tight cunt. “always thanking me so good,” he groaned. “has anyone touched you since i last did, huh?” he asked, looking at you with an icy gaze.

you looked up at coryo, biting your lip in pleasure as you shook your head no. “only you,” you moaned out, scraping your nails against his skin.

coriolanus let out a hiss of pleasure, moving his hips faster. “fuck,” he said, burying his head between your neck. “all mine. you’re mine.”

“all yours, coryo,” you moaned, wrapping a leg around him, making his cock go deeper inside of you. you arched your back, letting out a loud moan. “coryo!”

coriolanus moaned in your ear, pressing kisses along your jawline and neck. “you’re so wet and tight, baby,” he said. he moved so that he could look into your eyes. “i’m getting close, baby. gonna let me cum inside your pussy?”

you whined, nodding your head. “please,” you said. “please cum inside me, coryo, please.” you threw your head back in pleasure as coryo kept his momentum.

“so good,” he said, inhaling. “fuck, you’re so good for me. i’m so close, baby. gonna fill you up so good.”

you moaned, nodding your head in response. the familiar heat forming in your abdomen. “so close, coryo,” you whined, looking up into his blue eyes.

“that’s it, baby,” he moaned. “cum for me.”

and with that, the both of you were cumming together. the sounds of your moans filling the room as you both came. coryo filled you up with his cum, not caring for the repercussions of it. what’s the worst that would happen? you’re forced to stay in the capitol? hardly a punishment in his eyes.

when you both came down from your highs, coryo pulled out, laying down next to you. you sighed, turning to your side to face him as the two of you looked in each other’s eyes. and as coryo looked at you, he could see just how much you truly appreciated him. and that made him feel so powerful.

so when news came, later in the week, that you’d be moving to the capitol as an official capitol citizen due to how highly loved you are by its citizens, coryo was more than estatic. because now you truly belong to coriolanus snow.

[euphemiaamillais]

nsfw | mdni | best friend coryo x fem!reader | masturbation (m) | this is coryo’s post peacekeeper era

this is very shitty i apologize!!

imagine coryo figuring out he as a sir kink. you and coryo had been studying together and you began fooling around, trying to annoy coryo in any way, shape or form possible. he was always so stoic, had been since he came back from district 12. and you were trying to get him out of that shell he forced himself into.

but as you poked him for the millionth time, you could see coryo’s lip quirked in a small smile. “coryo,” you said, smiling. “coryooo,” you said again.

coriolanus rolled his eyes, pushing you away. “go back to doing your work,” he said.

you huffed, rolling your eyes. “whatever you say, sir,” clearly deflated.

but coryo? he froze. visibly froze. he inhaled sharply, feeling his pants immediately straining from your words. he cleared his throat before responding. “what did you call me?” he said, unable to help the thickness in his voice.

you looked at coryo with an amused look. “i called you sir,” you replied before going back to your work, leaving coryo to his thoughts as he realized a new kink of his.

he liked being called sir. specifically, he liked when you called him sir.

when coryo had gotten home that night, he briefly greeted Ma and Strabo Plinth, grandma’am, and tigris before going to his room and closing the door behind him. all he could think about was you and that word. just one word got him so hard that his cock had strained in his pants for the past few hours.

coryo undid his pants quickly, shoving them down along with his underwear, letting his cock breathe. his poor length was red and angry, clearly begging for attention as it already had precum along the tip. and without any hesitation, coriolanus began stroking his cock hard and fast, leaning against his bedroom door.

he thought about you. you had always been so beautiful and attractive though coryo would never cross that line. or would he? he was really questioning everything in this moment. your thighs always looked so soft. your eyes were just so pretty. and your lips? god he wanted your lips wrapped around his cock.

coriolanus’s movements became faster when he thought about fucking you while you called him sir. “please, sir, it feels so good!” you would whine as coryo’s cock plunged into you.

with a whine, coryo came hard, his cum shooting on to the floor in ropes.

and that’s how coryo realizes that no matter what, he will indeed achieve his life time dream of becoming president. because then even you would be forced to call him sir and that thought alone was enough to get him hard all over again.

[euphemiaamillais]

One where Sejanus realises Coryo is not such a great friend after all

Coryo may not be Sejanus’ best friend, but he sure is best at something else involving Sejanus’ girlfriend.

Pairing: Coriolanus/Reader

Word: 3667

Warnings: mildly dubious consent, infidelity?, cuckholding

It had been spoken in confidence.

Whether in a moment of drunkenness or a lapse in judgement, Sejanus had divulged his greatest insecurity to someone he had thought he could trust.    

Coriolanus would have thanked his lucky stars, but he was a cautious man and had to see for himself first.

And see he did. He watches with hungry eyes, your silhouette at the head of the bed and the tops of your knees spread flushed against the headboard that Sejanus grips till his knuckles turn white as he ruts uncontrollably like a district animal into you.

“Sej,” he can make out his friend’s name between your laboured moans and figures from the staccato of your breaths that you must be close.

So it was with even greater delight when he watches Sejanus’ hips slow and stutter, grunting as he pulls back away from you.

As if Coryo needed yet another reason to think Sejanus incompetent.

He hears you whine in response, and the frustration is evident in your throat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Your fingers glisten in the lamplight, your own arousal from the futile efforts at your clit, Coryo thinks, as you draw your boyfriend tight into your chest. “It’s okay, it’s fine Sej.”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

There is a pause, then a restrained sigh. “Sure.”

Coryo thinks that this intimate interaction is cute in a pitiful way, and he has had enough been its voyeur, letting the clicks of his shoes make his presence known.

Clearly, it takes you by surprise and you shriek, arms wrapping tighter to clutch at your boyfriend and blinking in sheer astonishment as you watch his friend make his leisurely way through your bedroom floor, grabbing at the dresser chair and pulling it to face the bed before making himself too comfortable in it.

All whilst no one spoke in a perplexing silence.

You had to elbow Sejanus for him to finally speak, and even then, the confrontation felt reluctant. “What are you doing here, Coryo?” Sejanus sighs.

God, he was so pathetic.

“What am I doing here?” Coryo repeats in mock surprise, “You were the one who asked for help, remember?”

Now that gets your attention. “Help?” you ask sharply, “help with what?”, and then in a disapproving tone you add, “And really is this the best time for it?”

Your cluelessness almost endears him, but Coryo doesn’t acknowledge you just yet, giving Sejanus a pointed look instead, “You haven’t told her?”

“Tell me what?”

“Come on now Sejanus.” Coryo tuts.

“I just— it’s silly really.”

Sejanus doesn’t offer any more than that and Coryo is more than happy to comply now.

“Just that he couldn’t satisfy you with his little prick.” Coryo doesn’t love a lot of things, but he sure does love stirring up trouble.

It has the intended effect, and you shove Sejanus from you in a moment of disgust, shuffling towards the edge of the bed. The hurt and betrayal in your voice makes Coryo giddy, “You told him that? That’s private!” and he also notes that you have not denied the very fact. “And besides, what did you expect him to do about it?” Your gaze follows your accusatory finger through to Sejanus’ friend, only to be met with greedy eyes raking over your now bare tits, and only then did you cross your arms.

It's disappointing, but Coryo considers it a little teaser as to what more there is to come. He shrugs, “A demonstration.”

“A demonstration?” you scoff, “That’s ludri-“

“What do you say Sej?”

It irks you that he discusses you like you were not in the very same room, but at least you have your boyfriend to count on, right?

It is a soft mutter and Sejanus cannot meet your eyes. “I guess.”

Coryo thinks Sejanus is so so stupid, but it works so well in his favour.

“You heard him,” and he is already making quick work at the buttons of his fly, sliding his trousers down just below his hips so that from the clothed bulge springs up a pretty cock, proud and slit already weeping. The room is dim, but you can see the shadows snaking their way around the bulging veins at his thick shaft in a way that looked simply irresistible.

The protest in your throat feels stuck.

Coryo knows you were already especially susceptible, having just had an orgasm snatched out of your wanting hands moments earlier, and now with you upset at Sejanus? He knows you only needed the sight of his sweet cock to nudge you in the right direction that is a little closer to him.

But then you glance back at your boyfriend for approval and the loyalty dripping in the air is sickening.

Coryo raps his palm on his clothed thigh, and it gets your attention, snapping you out of your trance. “On here,” he instructs.

You peer through your lashes shyly once more at him. 

“I won’t ask twice.”

But then your gaze moves back to Sejanus and whatever for? It makes Coryo nauseous.

He puts you out of your misery and kindly makes up your irresolute mind for you. Lunging to drag you back from the edge of the bed and onto his lap back at the chair, he hooks your left thigh behind his own. You topple over losing your balance in surprise, and Coryo works fast to tuck your other leg behind his right knee, spreading you out into a lovely position onto his lap with your bare back pressing against his clothed chest.

He laments the fact that he would miss watching your tits bounce as he fucks you on his cock, but the way you are now bound with your helpless thighs secured behind his makes up for that very fact and besides, he likes having that to look forward to next time.

Skimming his fingers up the curve of your waist making you shiver, he pulls you down against his lap. The friction of the scratchy wool of his trousers against your naked thigh feels unpleasant, but your pussy, oh it glides across his hard shaft smearing your arousal across it in a way that you can feel every pulsating bump of vein across your delicate folds.

A soft whimper breaks through your lips.  

“I think she’s warming up to it now, Sej.” Coryo loves being cruel and to be cruel now, was to remind you that you were letting yourself be ravaged by another whilst your boyfriend watches meekly on.  

It has the intended effect and Coryo expects no less from you. Your hands scrambling for his clad thigh, just yet another reminder of how bare you are, to push yourself up and your core prepares to tense, but Coryo is sick of this game and he digs his fingers painfully into your waist pushing you down once more and this time, the head of his cock bumps against your clit.

The sudden friction makes you slack against his arms and Coryo makes out the beginning of a moan before you swallow it down your throat.

Coryo isn’t an idiot, he knows his ministrations affects you; he can feel the hitch of your breath against his chest, the hammering of your heart against his forearm, but still, you maintain a poor attempt of indifference. Perhaps it is out of respect for Sejanus, but it only serves as a challenge for Coryo because whilst it was fun to have you struggle against him and for him to take whatever he wants that is more than you were willing to give, he finds greater thrill to have you begging for him despite whatever silly feelings you have for your boyfriend. He wants to take you, then your mind, then Sejanus’ pride, confidence and dignity.

With his free hand that isn’t leaving bruises at your waist, he reaches over your thighs tangled with his own to fist at his cock. He starts slowly, teasing it up your delicate folds before stopping to swirl at your clit. His spongy flesh rubbing against your sensitive core draws another gasp out of you, but it is short and muffled.

So, he rinses and repeat, continuing his incessant teasing until he gets exactly what he wants. Dragging his angry cock-head down your silky pussy lips and then up again to kiss at that swollen nub. Once, he has you squirming on his lap, then twice and thrice until you are shamelessly bucking your hips.

But Coryo still doesn’t miss the way your eyes continue to skitter towards Sejanus’ for his continuing approval, and he decides he mustn’t have broken you enough yet.

Leaving your achy clit, Coryo tugs his cock down and just barely dips the tip of his cock into your dripping slit, and oh yes, that seemed to do it.

Your hips snap up, desperate for him to stretch you wide and split you open in half, but Coryo is smart and has already pulled his cock away, just enough for your pussy to smear against his shaft. “Fuck, please,” your voice is gravelly and laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal.

Coryo almost feels sorry for you, but he has one more to go after.

Pressing his cock at your slit once more, he feels the gentle parting of your pussy lips dripping with your nectar just for him and he savours the moment of your hot wet envelope around him even if it is just the tip, before he pulls away once more.

You gasp your strangled gasp, “I need— please,” and he knows it must have taken every single ounce of your pride to even muster one up in front of Sejanus, “please, Coryo.”

His name rolling off your tongue was intoxicating and he nearly loses his resolve. Nearly.

You roll your hips weakly, but it is to no avail.

A choked sob escapes your throat, and he feels the tears trickling down your cheek, dripping onto his shirt.

His cock is impossibly hard now, but Coryo is adamant still, guiding his throbbing tip just between your lips. He can feel the twitching of your folds, their inviting stretch just for him.

“Please, I need--” you hiccup between your desperate sobs, “Please, please Cory—"

“Just fuck her alright!”

Poor Sejanus. Sejanus with that encouraging expression now wavering, seemingly regretting allowing this lewd and filthy sight, but who also appears to have had enough of his girlfriend tortured, quivering and spilling full of unresolved tension.

Coryo smirks crookedly.

One more shallow and controlled thrust, the tip of his angry cockhead skimming the petals of your swollen pussy just for a moment before he pulls your pliant body up by the waist and—

He lets you sink onto him.

It is met with a little resistance initially as he buries his throbbing tip into you, and then with another forceful thrust and his bruising fingers by your waist pulling you further down onto him, the girth of his shaft soon follows, swallowed within your wet walls.

Judging from your faint whimpers, it is a tight fit, tight and snug in a way he is sure you can feel every bump that is a pulsating vein as he sheaths more of himself into you.

“Am I doing okay, Sej?”

Coryo rolls his eyes.

It seems he had not been the only one who had noticed Sejanus’ smile growing strained.

And he had really thought he had you broken enough too, but he is more than happy to remedy his oversight.

He snaps his hips, forcefully burying himself into you in retaliation and the room reverberates that obscene squelch of your pussy.

“I’m sorry,” he drawls, bored as if his whole cock wasn’t throbbing inside you, “Did you forget who’s cock you’re currently impaled on?”

You maintain your silence but that only serves to irritate Coryo even more.

“The cock that you begged for!”

God, Coryo is so unimpressed with you. If only you had played nice, he would have eased you in with some languid thrusts, but he is severely irritated now and decides that an unforgiving pace of his pistoning hips into yours may set right your aching heart, if not pussy.

You cry out as he fucks into you violently, but Coryo is ruthless and he pushes you further into a territory of pain with his fingernails digging into the hollows of your cheek as he jolts your limp head upright. It makes your eyes water.

“Look at him.”

Blinking your tears away, you see Sejanus with a watery expression. Coryo thinks Sejanus couldn’t look anymore pitiful.

He snarls and it is threatening, “Tell me, is he fucking you right now?”

The drive of his hips is unrelentless now, and from the pain rises a familiar yearning and it is the fear of losing it, you don’t think you could go through another stolen-near-almost orgasm, that replies him.

“No,” you murmur hazily, shaking your head as if to prove your point further and Coryo thinks that this is the point of no return, “just you Coryo.”

He likes you like this, obedient like a puppy, and he rewards you by bringing his free hand to your pussy engorged with his cock, his calloused fingers twirling at your clit.

It is clearly the right decision as not a moment after, you are bucking your hips, grinding yourself deeper onto him, and Coryo understands why Sejanus had so much trouble holding himself back when he is inside you because you were just so warm and hot and wet and all-encompassing.  

Coryo doesn’t mind sitting back for a little while. He slows his thrusts, all the better to savour the spectacle that is Sejanus broken down and hacked into pieces with a front row seat of his girlfriend’s pretty pink pussy glistening stretched obscenely around Coryo’s thick shaft as she bounces away happily, completely cock-drunk and chasing her own release that he couldn’t not supply.  

And to rub salt into the wound, Coryo grips a fistful of your hair, pushing your head down towards his to capture your lips in a painful kiss with his tongue swirling in your mouth.  

When he pulls back, there is a strand of spit glimmering between his mouth and your lips that hung agape.

He smears it onto the crook of your neck, “I think Sej likes this different view.” Coryo’s murmurs are soft enough to be covered by your breathy pants, but he pulls back a little so that Sejanus has an eyeful of his lips brushing at your ear as they moved in speech because how better than to stir up his insecurities? “You better give him a show.”

Stupid with your eyes half-lidded barely making out the silhouette of your boyfriend at the edge of the bed, you believe him, giving another sensual roll of your hips, your chest thrusting forward in the same motion.

“Tell Sejanus whose cock is making you feel so good.”

You let your boyfriend, and the neighbours for that matter, know, a string of Coryo’s name tumbling out of your mouth until they reform back to unintelligible pants.

And when Coryo removes his face nuzzling into your neck to commit to memory Sejanus’ broken expression whilst you chant his name over and over like a fervent prayer, Coryo is even more amused when he realises Sejanus is half hard and to what? The sick sight of his girlfriend enjoying herself on his best friend’s fat dick?

“Let your boyfriend know just how much you love this.”

You are a docile little thing, complying with a dizzy sigh, “God, I love this Sej.”

“Tell him what I’m doing to make you love this.” This is a demonstration after all and Sejanus needs to learn, although the lesson Coryo is teaching had more to do with Sejanus’ place.

“He’s—" Your scrambled brain cannot keep up with all the sensations inflicted on you, so you settle with pointing out the obvious, “He’s fucking me Sej.”

Hardly, you seem to be doing most of the work anyways.

“Am I better than him?”

“I--” you swallow thickly, “I love this.”

Coryo senses your hesitation, and he acts swiftly and decisively, lips latching towards your limp neck to lick a bead of your salty sweat up behind your ear. “He’s hard” he whispers.  

You blink the happy tears out of your eyes and sure enough, you pan down your boyfriend’s guilty expression to find him fisting his erection.

Coryo asks you once more. “Tell your boyfriend who makes you feel better. Tell him!” he snarls.

And sure as hell being the dumb little girl you are, you’re convinced. Or maybe it is Coryo resuming his powerful and painful drive of his hips meeting the downward jut of hips, his angry cockhead licking some sensitive spongy spot within your pulsating wall. Regardless, you answer his question.

“You Coryo!” you wailed, and he is happy with your answer, slowing his thrusts to a lazy pace. He can feel the beginnings of your orgasm, the involuntary twitching of your pussy walls hugging his cock as you continue to grind onto him and he helps you out, the rough pads of his fingers now drawing tight circles at your sensitive clit.

He feels you when the tension finally snaps, when you tumble over the edge. Your walls hug him impossibly tight and he feels your warmth trickling down his cock lodged inside you as you drench him in all your sweet nectar. It feels good, but it feels even better knowing that Sejanus has never had your pretty walls squeeze his cock like this.

It is hidden amongst your strings of gasps when Coryo hears an unmistakable grunt. He looks up to see Sejanus spent once again with globs of white scattered on his thighs and stomach. And to the sight of his own girlfriend coming undone on his best friend’s cock, Coryo wants to laugh.

“She even tighter when she cums,” he tells Sejanus with no sordid detail spared, “Twitching around me and so fucking warm too.”

Your moan in response, whether in agreement or in protest is irrelevant, but along with your trembling thighs still mindlessly bucking as you ride out your orgasm on his still hard cock, it adds to Coryo’s point.  

“All you have to do,” Coryo instructs between his own groans, “is you just fuck her stupid like this.”

A demonstration after all, and with his free hand that isn’t flicking at your sensitive clit, Coryo digs his fingers into your waist to hold your quivering hips in place before he speeds up to an unrelentless pace now chasing his own release.

It seems to prolong your own too, or maybe gets you to another high judging by the wracked gasp escaping your throat and the way your walls seem to massage his cock even further as if urging him to spill into you.

Twice, he muses condescendingly.  

The thought of Sejanus utterly humiliated, Sejanus who has all the wealth in the world but who cannot even get his gorgeous girlfriend to come undone not once but twice on his cock, is exhilarating.

And then the knowledge that tonight’s memory, you grinding on Coryo’s cock with your walls clamping down tight on his pulsating member that was spurting and tainting your walls with seed white as snow, is now forever seared into Sejanus’ little district brain, seared in a way that makes his cuckhold prick hard, brings Coryo over the edge.

He gives one final thrust, burying his whole hard length into you so that his cockhead spilling his creamy essence just kissed your cervix. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he tips over the edge because Coryo is sick, wanting a permanent mark for Sejanus to remember this night by, but maybe you are sick like him too because he knows it must have been painful, the taste of iron evident on his tongue, and yet he is blessed with another one of your shaky gasp coupled with another unmistakable wave of your walls just clenching around his spurting cock.  

It is all nearly too much for you bear.

Overstimulating really. Coryo who is still drawing languid circles at your clit whilst rutting, shallowly albeit, into you, the sudden spread of warmth in your belly as he empties himself into you, the viscous trickle of blood down your collarbone, the clammy sweat mix with the sweet metallic smell of blood lingering thick in the air and the pain at your shoulder radiating like electricity to your core, has you reduced to a string of whimpers and moans squirming weakly on Coryo’s lap.

It isn’t long before his softening cock breaks the seal of your spent pussy, and with every weak clench of your pussy from the overstimulation that is Coryo’s digit still at your clit, his cum begins to drip out of you.

It is messy, and Coryo decides he has enough; he doesn’t want his trousers dirtied. Moving his clad thighs out of the way, you instinctively squeeze your strained legs together in a poor attempt to mask the trickle of his creamy seed now trailing down your inner thigh, stumbling your way back onto the bed next to Sejanus.

The sight in front of him, the debauchery that is the cuckhold heir of the Plinth fortune and then you, his regal little girlfriend wearing a dizzy drunk expression with Coryo’s own seed sticky sandwiched between your thighs, all whilst he is fully dressed after tucking himself back into his slacks, though with unpolished shoes and faded cufflinks and a tad more w`rinkled, makes Coryo feel immensely powerful and does wonders for his ego.

And just for the final blow, Coryo gives Sejanus’ shoulder a squeeze on his way out. “Might just demonstrate a different position next time,” he says smugly and then his lip curls up into a smirk that he hopes looked cruel, “I like it much better when Snow’s on top.”