#songbird icons

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May - Songbird, 2020

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⋆.° Swaddled in Silk ୨ৎ

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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

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

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

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

Mornings tended to be peaceful with Coriolanus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still. You tried to maintain normalcy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d certainly underestimated childbirth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[danielfilm]

i need him biblically, scientifically, mathematically, statistically, genuinely, emotionally, physically, intensely, bluntly, enthusiastically, melodramatically, and desperately

[iconsfilm]

the ballad of songbirds and snakes cast icons | like or reblog if you save

[hollywocd]

tom blyth like/reblog 🌟

[icondeluxe]

Snow Icons the mentor

(c) @fdpanem

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[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader

summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing. 

trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies.

trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, mentions of gaining weight and wearing a corset (patrick bateman vibes), i really hope it doesn't seem like bodyshaming, reader has problems only with her own body.

prologue.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒.

another day. another chance to win him over. 

y/n could be named for many things: a filthy liar, a nepo-baby, a psychopath or simply a crazy girl, but she was never, ever lazy. waking up, she always had the same routine: getting out from the bed, changing into her underwear she wore the day before, making her hair up into a bun, spreading carbon on her teeth to be white as marble. working out, even if it hurt, because how could she be the best wife ever for coriolanus if she was lazy and out of shape? through workout, she thought about who she is. i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything what i have now. i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil. i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.

after that, taking a bath, scrubbing her body with a sponge, so her skin would always be silky, using her razor to get rid of the unwanted, ugly hair on her body. smearing vanilla and rose oil onto her skin: vanilla for being gentle, and rose for coriolanus. brushing her teeth, washing down the charcoal, washing teeth with the regular toothpaste. sitting in front of her dressing table, picking her eyebrow, putting cosmetic oils and serums on her cleavage, her neck and her face. while letting it dry, picking out the outfit of the day, calling in her maid, hortense to help her with the corset if she felt that she gained too much weight because of the medicine, or was on her period. y/n hated so-called red days, and waited for the day when she could bear her husband’s children. putting her clothes on, sitting at the dressing table again, her maid helped her if she wanted a special hairstyle. checking her manicure, it was now soft pink, it’ll match with her clothes. making her hair, she did her makeup, curling her eyelashes, putting a little chili on her lips to be so full –it hurt like hell, but how could she be perfect if she didn’t put effort in it?, whilst repeating another list in her mind. this was for coriolanus. 

be kind with him, but never too kind. be kind and modest with everybody else, so they won’t notice it. agree with him in the things that are important, but also speak your mind if he seems doubtful. speak your feelings to convince him, you are important to him. always accept his help, but don’t make redundant situations, don’t look like the damsel in distress. make him feel special, let him be the man he is, make him feel that you support him and his plans, but never make too big promises. don’t look pathetic, don’t show your emotions too much. never talk about him to others, only if they mention him, talk good about him, and talk bad about others if it’s needed. don’t make a scene if something doesn’t work your way, it will sooner or later. take action when it’s the right time. 

applying lipstick as the last step, she was ready to step out from home. y/n knew she had a strict routine, but doing mornings on autopilot let her think about more important things, like her daily plans. first destination was the school where coriolanus was, but first, she needed to get her papers after graduating, after that they’re gonna have lunch together, and then, she’ll look for the letters to see if volumnia gaul accepted her application. probably she will, she knows her entire family, how great they are, and she probably heard about y/n herself too. 

“good morning ms. y/l/n, how are you?” lacy, her sister’s maid asked her as she carried the laundry in a big basket through the hallway on the ground floor. 

“i slept well, lacy, thank you. where is my sister?” 

“your sister, morphia went to arrange the flowers and the cake for her marriage. i am so happy for her, ms. y/l/n!” 

y/n couldn’t decide if lacy was truly happy or just acting. but she wasn’t a threat, so y/n didn’t care. 

“me too, lacy.” 

her father was sitting at the head of the table, reading the tabloids, her mother, lorelei was eating some eggs with meat, some gin in her glass on the side. 

“this pheasant is really good, cyril.” she mentioned, looking up to see her youngest child. “oh, my sweet, y/n! good morning.” 

“good morning, mommy.” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, going to her father, she waited until he stopped reading the tabloid and looked at her. her father, cyril y/l/n was really strict, but not as strict as crassus snow. once, after her father made her burn the flowers she tore off from their garden and beat her, her mother stroked her cheek, saying “oh, honey, don’t be sad. your father is a good man, not like crassus snow. i think you should be glad that you don’t have him as your father.” so this way, y/n was happy. or so her mother thought. 

“good morning, father.” she told him too, giving him a kiss on the cheek too. she could do that until she was eighteen, after that, only the greeting was acceptable. y/n saw once, when morphia tried to kiss her father when she passed eighteen, she got slapped across the face. but they were happy, weren’t they? 

“how’s your application with gaul?” he asked as y/n sat down. 

“i handed it in yesterday. probably a letter will wait for me in the afternoon.” 

“why, what will you do today?” 

“cyril, i already told you that! your butler even wrote it down for you!” her mother whined, looking at her daughter. y/n took a slice of bread, reaching for the butter and the knife. 

“don’t mind it, mother. i’m going to the school to get my graduating papers, then have lunch with coriolanus, and then–”

“coriolanus snow? that boy and his family are broke, his father was gullible and got killed by the rebellion. why are you humbling yourself in his presence?” 

control. control your face, your hands. y/n’s fist curled around the knife tighter, grabbing it with real force. 

“i know, but he has great talent. and he’s gonna be the next president of panem.” she replied calmly, looking at him. sometimes she fantasized about stabbing him there, at the head of the table. 

“president of panem? y/n, you are so amusing when you say things like this. but i truly hope your words will become reality someday. crassus wasn’t gullible, everybody was afraid through the first rebellion.” his face softened, just as he spoke to a three year old. 

“yes, honey! your father doesn’t doubt you, he’s just amazed at what you are saying.” her mother added, sipping on her gin, batting her lashes. it wasn’t even ten in the morning, as she was already wasted. after eating the slice of bread, y/n stood up, hiding the knife into her sleeve. 

“i’m going out, but i’m gonna be here for the letter. please don’t open up before me.” she asked, making her father look up. 

“hortense is going to bring it to your room.” 

“thank you, father.” 

“honey, you didn’t even touch the caviar and the honey, please eat some more!” 

kissing her mother’s cheek again, y/n looked at her. she got her eyes, her mother was truly beautiful when she was young, acrimonious lips talked cyril only married lorelei because of her looks. nevertheless, the creed family was also noble, y/n only had to bear festus’ horrible personality twice a year, christmas and the reaping. 

“don’t worry mommy, i’ll be fine.” 

she could work easily with an empty stomach, getting back to her room, preparing her bag. looking at the medicines, she put the bottle under her clothes. she didn’t need these pills that made her useless, slow and lazy anyway, she needed something else… and she knew her horrible cousin, festus got that white, powdery thing. grabbing the butterknife from under her sleeve, she touched it. it was the worst knife ever, blunt and short, like some of the fighters in the games. y/n loved her father, respected him and counted on his words, but questioning her and laughing at her, it was the exception if it came to love and respect. and if her father is doubting her again, she will–

funk! well, who thought that people could stick butter knives into the wall? 

arriving at the school, showing her papers that she was a private student, the secretary gave out her graduation stuff. nodding, the secretary told some things, but her mind was focused on finding festus. going to the main hall, everybody whore red, y/n was the only outstander with her black skirt, soft pink blouse and black blazer. every school uniform was truly awful, the capitol is the wealthiest in all panem, couldn’t they make it a little bit more… pleasant? it’s a shame that every fabric is on their hand, available, and still, they style it horrible. nevermind, festus was there, chatting with that bitch arachne and that fucker pliny harrington. 

“hey, festus, hey, everybody. can we talk for a minute?” she turned to her cousin. festus looked at her, smirked, then looked at the others. 

“of course. sorry, it’s only a minute.” he said to them, walking to one of the corners with y/n. leaning to one of the marble piles, he dug his hands into his pockets. “so, what do you want?”

“why are you asking me so pitiless?” y/n blinked at him. for some people, formality in family could seem heartless, but she was relieved that she didn't need to waste her time if she didn't want to.

“you talk to me only if you need something.” 

“me? don’t be ridiculous, i helped with all your assignments in school, what would your mother say if she heard that?” y/n couldn’t be a big gamer if she didn’t knew the connections in her environment perfectly well. seeing how festus’ face became a little bit rigid, she continued. “anyway, i want from that white dust you gave me last time.”

she couldn’t even carve a wider grin on his face, even if she wanted to.

“so you liked it? it’s better than your stupid pills.” y/n had a poker face, but she wondered how he got to know. “you’re not the only one who knows things in the family.” fucker, you don’t even know everything, yet you still play like you’re the most clever. the funny thing is that it ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble, no. it's what you know for sure that just ain't so.

���i have business somewhere else soon, can i get it or not?”

“it will cost some money, but i am always happy to help my family.” oh, fuck off. y/n reached her hand like she wanted to shake hands with him, and this way, demand and supply met. “if you drink some of it, it’ll be better. you are a crazy bitch y/n, but if snow really will be the president, remember me as one of your biggest supporters.” he smiled. “oh, and volumnia heard some of his great ideas about getting more audience for the games. if you’ll work for her, that ugly power couple thing can be really dangerous.” what ideas? she knew it was a problem that the game wasn't so popular, and he thought that coriolanus wasn’t so interested in that. of course, until now, because big money was at stake, and everybody was prowling around the corner. y/n curled the corner of her lips up under duress, bidding goodbye to festus. she wasn’t gonna take it now, she used it only for emergencies.

now, she could completely focus on coriolanus. where was he? walking to the other long hallway, looking around, he was nowhere despite that they stuck to eleven am yesterday. suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulder, making her turn. 

“there you are!” there he was. y/n could look at him for an eternity, could he look better under eleven hours? everything about him was perfect, from the way he looked to the point he talked, and y/n almost tasted the sweetness when his mind was forming those clever, great thoughts. and his looks? she knew they could have the most precious children; angel blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled jawline she could kiss a million times, his body was sculpted by the gods who were looking down on them, and she prayed every night to the deities so they could be each other’s one day. in y/n’s mind, coriolanus wasn’t just a boy or a soon-to-be-man. no, he was the base of everything, he had everything that y/n needed, and y/n was raised truly the best way. nobody else could get in the near of the perfection he formed, and y/n could see the future. the future, where they marry, she is in the longest, most beautiful white dress full with gemstones like rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds, vowing endless loyalty to each other, the whole world is envious of the wealth they have. the future, where he becomes the president of panem, leading the nation with a strong hand and making decisions with a strong mind, while y/n helped to make the games more impressive, more dangerous, more cruel, but first of all, supporting him in everything, even if she has to get her hands dirty. the future, where she was pregnant with his children, naming them ancient names so they could mirror the same noble qualities those deities had, raising them the best way so they could even outgrow them, perfect people. “how was your morning?”

the future they could have. the future they WILL have. 

“hello, corio. mine was pretty good, got my graduating papers. how was your day so far?” 

“it was… good, i guess? this mentoring thing is new for everyone, i spent all night thinking how lucy gray could win.” 

that name, again. keep it cool. 

“i’m sure you will think it out. shall we go and eat lunch?” 

sitting in a gorgeous, golden restaurant, y/n chose a corner for them to sit in. when their food arrived, she waited for him to speak. it seemed like something was itching his mind, and she was one of his best friends, wasn't she? corio looked to the side, then at her, then took a bite from his lunch. let’s break the ice. 

“is everything okay, corio?”

“yes, yes, everything’s fine. is it… on my face?” 

“well, since i…” don’t make it too personal. “...since we know each other so well, i see worry on your face. you can tell me everything.” 

“it’s… it’s gonna be really, really embarrassing for me, but… so, y/n, it’d be my pleasure if… you’d come with me on a date?”

clawing on her thigh, was this reality? was coriolanus really, really asking her out in this glorious place? was she truly worthy of his love? moderating her grin to a smile, she looked at him. he was truly a love-child of an angel and a god, and while y/n was truly a masterpiece herself, it was the biggest honor for her to get into the grace of this guy. now, the idea of the wedding and the best imaginable life wasn’t so far away. did the gods hear her prayers above, and saw the list she created? 

“forget it, y/n, i know i’m not–” coriolanus tried to hush the previous idea with an embarrassed look on his face, but y/n shook her head. obviously, her mind wandered for too long. 

“no, no! of course i’d go on a date with you. with pleasure.” y/n smiled, slowly reaching for his hand that was on the table. they touched each other frequently before, but not like this. she hated a part of herself, the part that could melt under his touch and got dizzy from only his skin. but truly, she could eat it up if she could. 

“oh, okay, well… i just… thought that it’s embarrassing, because you pay for all of this, and–” never let a man’s pride falter. it’s the firewood for the campfire, the pressure for the diamond, the water for the plants. if you feed a man’s ego, he’ll trust and love you. 

“corio, dear, please. i’m not with you because of your money, we can’t do anything about our past and families. and you’re gonna win the plinth-prize, so what are we worrying about?” 

“but–” y/n hushed him gently, playing her finger in front of her lips. 

“i’m sure you will win that prize. why, who else would win it? the daughter of an energy secretary? or a rich, spoiled kid?”

“they are all rich and spoiled.” y/n totally let pass the fact that she was too. but what was the problem with it, really? they couldn’t do anything about it, you can’t decide where you were born. a person can change everything about itself, but not its origin. it always stays with you, clinging onto your ankle, to drag with yourself everywhere. in this life, they got on the winning side of the wheel. and who cares about the next life? 

“but no one’s father is a general, except you. and i know that you didn’t like him, but keep the mindset.” 

“you are so clever, y/n. thank you for always putting my mind into it’s place.”

“i’m just telling the truth. and… how are things with the game? is it hard?” 

“oh, it’s… i still need to figure out some things. but i had some ideas about ways to get people more engaged in the games, like getting them sponsors, or interviewing the tributes so the viewers can get closer to them, pick a favorite, some things like this.” 

“it sounds really interesting, did volumnia hear these things?” as much as she hated festus’ bragging, he also mentioned things that she could use. maybe that’s why everybody got rid of her so fast at a big gathering like the graduation two days ago. she never had ‘juicy tea’ or some things like that, only if she wanted to get something. and when she wanted to get something, the chamber of secrets instantly opened. 

“yeah, well she came in when we were discussing those things. she said that i need to write it down, and then clemensia interrupted that we’ve always worked and brainstormed together, so we can write that together, too.” 

totaling another pen, dovecote? being a tricky bitch, i wasn’t expecting less from you. 

“i think volumnia should know that the idea was yours. clemensia is your good friend, but why wasn’t she just cheering that you got the gamemaker’s attention?” plant the seed. maybe not with clemensia, she will do it for herself, but anyway. coriolanus needed to know the truth. 

“i will talk with her about this.” he won’t. he’s too kind-hearted for it. “and i’ll write down my ideas. anyway, how’s your application for volumnia gaul? did you hand it in?” y/n nodded at his question, chewing on the potatoes. 

“got handed it in yesterday. i really hope if i go home this afternoon, a letter will be waiting for me.” the smile on his face was worth everything. what could that mouth do if there were only the two of them? because she knew what her mouth could do. 

“i’m sure she’ll hire you. one of your thesis got onto her table, remember? the one you wrote about the possible content of venom in mono– and dicotyledons. and if she’s not, then she’s a dingbat.” y/n remembered that thesis, her brain always burned out from the three-day long insomnia. 

“careful, corio! i hope she doesn’t have ears everywhere.” that woman was the queen on her chess table, it was the side that could never be decided. 

all the way home, she thought about coriolanus. y/n gotta hide the grin she was forming with her lips when she was driving home with the chauffeur of the family. all the effort, all the pain… it was worth it. she almost teared up from the joy, but her mascara was really expensive, even her mother thought that it was too rich for their blood.

“is everything alright, miss y/l/n?” helius, their private driver asked, looking into the rear-view mirror. y/n nodded, exhaling and inhaling. big news like this always messed with her head. nodding, everything was perfect. 

stepping inside the house, she raced up to her room immediately. there was the letter, persephone slept beside it. picking it up, y/n used her nails to tear it up. she never waited for news like this. the sooner she knew, the sooner she could got suit in the new situation. 

dear y/n y/l/n, you got accepted…

throwing it away, she instantly picked up persephone, screaming into her fur. persephone meowed, already used to her owner’s insane habits. anyway, the food was tasty in the house, so why not bear it? 

“you hear this, persephone? the lucky star is shining on us.” she whispered to the cat, stroking her head. she couldn't sit back, not now. not when good things, the reward of the hard work could be felt. not when everything worked for her plans. “mother and father will be so happy. and we are happy too, aren't we?” 

y/n didn't know happiness, only when her heart got fast and drug-like feeling curled in her blood. but now, she got to be a predator. a predator who sat for hours, days to catch its prey. when news were coming in, things always changed. she had to be patient, but she couldn't get lazy, not now. not when strange news was coming up. news that didn’t match with her expectations, nowhere, never. news that bathed her soul with venom. news that raised her little game onto a new level. 

a/n: the prologue got so many notes like my tumblr literally BLEW UP thank you so much girliez 😭 i hope you liked this part, more focus will be on corio i just want to size up reader's mindset

take care of yourself babes, love y'all luisa

[c6nrad]

❝I’M NOT YOUR PROBLEM ANYMORE, SO WHO AM I DEFENDING NOW?❞

exile — taylor swift (featuring bon iver)

[anni-secret-account-75]

Snow did land on top 🎀

Tom Blyth 2018

[editsty]

↬Like/reblog if you save 𖹭

[lqveharrington]

Guilty as Sin | C.S.

summary: Your relationship with Coriolanus must remain hidden due to his campaign for presidency. The funniest part? You were the daughter of his rival. The worst part? All the girls flaunted over him.

pairing: politician!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: kissing, jealousy, coriolanus and reader being possessive, slight suggestiveness (that’s pretty much it, let me know if i missed any)

a/n: coryo my bb, i missed you 😕 (a really short one-shot to make up for my lack of coryo content)

Hidden. That was the extent of your relationship with Coriolanus Snow. From stolen kisses before interviews, to longing glances from across prestigious functions required for the running politicians; you were content enough to have him behind the scenes. Well, you were content enough until all the girls started flaunting over his sudden rise to power.

“It’s disgusting, really.” Your father scoffed and shook his head at the young Snow. “I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten backlash from all the ladies practically throwing themselves at him.”

Your hands twitch at the sight, red nails printing crescents into your palm. “You could always change that, father.”

He raised his brows at your sudden fierceness, “I suppose I could. But what good would it be to waste resources on him?”

Coriolanus glanced around the bastion in boredom when he met your icy stare. He raised a brow before tilting his head toward the hallway — excusing himself from the crowd of ladies when he saw you roll your eyes and take long strides to meet him.

“What is it?” You asked with irritation filling your voice.

He squinted at your tone before opening a door and shoving you through it, causing you to stumble across the marble floor.

“God— Coryo, this dress is expensive!” You catch yourself on the bathroom sink, glaring at him through the mirror.

“What are you making faces for?” He leaned back on the wall, hands tucked into his pants pockets. He tilted his head as he waited for you to answer, watching your expression change.

You cross your arms in front of your chest, messing with the golden necklace adorning your neck. “Which of those girls will you marry, Coriolanus?”

He raised his brows, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, except for the fact that you constantly have women swarming around you like you’re a bachelor.” You shift your gaze toward the door, frowning when you saw his foot blocking the bottom.

“You’re jealous?” He pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin under his finger. “That’s new, dove.”

You frown, “I’m not, I’m cautious.”

Coriolanus hummed, pressing a soft yet imperious kiss to your lips — using his free hand to tug your waist closer to his own body. He felt you melt into his embrace as he traced circles across your hip. “Those women don’t hold a candle to you. Why are you worried?”

“I’m not…” You murmur, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips. Might it been a more private setting and gala, you would have done things you wouldn’t normally do. Meeting his stare, you find him wanting more than just two simple words. “No one knows about us. What if someone draws up a contract for an arranged marriage of some sort.” You take a finger and make patterned across his dress suit, refusing to meet his eyes. “Or what if my father draws up a contract for another? What would happen to us?”

He took your hands and held them tightly, urging you to focus and calm yourself. “I won’t let that happen, alright? Once I win the election, you’ll be right at my side as First Lady.” He brought your hands up to his lips and pressed two kisses onto the back of your palms. “If anyone dares to defy us, then off to the Districts.”

“And what happens if my father wins?” You whisper, terrified a noise louder would break your heart. “What will we do then?”

“Do you doubt my ability to win a presidential election, dove?” He asked whilst thumbing your hands. “Your father may think he has the resources to best me, but I assure you, Snow lands on top.”

You roll your eyes jokingly at the motto before capturing him in another kiss. “Then win, Coryo.”

As days passed, you watched Coriolanus speak with many ladies of the Capitol Elites. And each time you wished he would come over and claim you as his in front of everyone. With each passing moment, election day came closer and closer until it was day to recognize who won the Presidential Election.

“Miss, you must stop fidgeting at once.” Your handmaid, confidant, and past governess in your house staff spoke from beside you, creasing her brows at your state. “The cameras are watching.”

“Let them.” You pick nervously at the golden necklace, watching the voting count change every few seconds. “They’re about to find out who’s the new President anyway.”

She sighed and took your free hand in hers, squeezing it for reassurance. Although she — and many of the Capitol — believed you were hoping for your father to win, you couldn’t help but break into a bright grin whenever Coriolanus received more votes. Not before long, the big screen blackened, hiding the finals votes before they announced the winning candidate.

Your eyes met with Coriolanus’ before uproar took over your father’s stands, causing you to wonder exactly what happened.

“Maria—“

“Your father lost, Miss. Snow is our future President.” She squeezed your hand, carefully watching your expression change from confusion to surprise.

“Excuse me.” You released her hand and stood from your father’s box, running through the screams of your father’s supporters and stands. There were shouts of disbelief and anger as you ran, dodging angry men and women before your heels clicked against the floor.

You scanned the scene, watching your father walk down from his podium in defeat but not finding Coriolanus in his respective podium. You pushed through all the people near the blonde’s stands, hearing their cheers of happiness before your eyes meet his once more.

Your face split into a beguiling smile as you ran into his arm, grabbing his face and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. He spun you around despite his and yours image. You giggle into this kiss and rest your forehead against his, sighing contently at the outcome.

“What did I say?” He asked as the camera’s spun around to capture your intimate moment, your father seething alongside his supporters. “Will you be my First Lady?

You wipe lipstick off his lips before giving him another kiss, “Of course, President Snow.”

read more about coriolanus snow here!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[just-trying-my-best-everyday]

Mmm, I don't know, I might be off, but I think that Suzanne Collins had a point when she wrote Coriolanus eating at every chance he got but being too proud to let himself appear hungry. Dunno.

[danielfilm]

"evil blonde" seriously? look at this baby !

[whamicon]

“well i’m not made of sugar”

[tonixe]

MOTIVE...

a/n: ZOOWEMAMA, NEW CELEBRITY CRUSH UNLOCKED. Yes, I DID JUST WATCH THE NEW HUNGER GAMES, AND THIS is PROBABLY LIKE THE ONLY TIME I WILL SAY, THAT ONLY THE YOUNG CORIOLANUS SNOW IS HOT; the movie was good asf, low-key jealous of the actor who played Lucy like I would love I mean love to just be proximity 5 feet or less like he is just so hot. **

warning: mentions of violence (threats), smut, p in the v, penetration, fingering, bathroom sex, enemy lovers trope...proofread (?).

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word counter: 1.8k

You were perfect, the embodiment of a perfect daughter, student, and personality. You carried yourself with grace, and made yourself known as an individual with class and intelligence.

You have an outstanding academic standing, high grades, good social points, and were popular with your peers. A person with all that must have someone to be rival with or a person trying to one-up them. In this case, it was true for you, the last name Snow, made you snarl. The name Coriolanus Snow, made you grimace even. He was always one step ahead of you, if you were two, he would be one. It made you resent him in every single way.

Today was reaping day...the anniversary of making the district pay for their uprising against capital control and authority. You were wearing a black dress with a scoop necklace and small cut diamonds sowed on your dress, making it look like the night sky, it fell to your knees. Pearls waiting on your neck with matching earrings and a dashing pair of bloody red lips to match the blood that was ready to be spilled in the arena.

The building was busy with students, excited for the games to begin. It was supposedly going to be last, but you knew it was a lie. Why would the capitol stop the games, weren't their enemies not rebelling against them enough? Vigilantly waiting for it to start, holding onto a delicate glass cup with some liquid poured into, it as you sipped from the glass. You were conversing with a few of your peers, not friends. You weren't considered them anywhere near you, there were just walking money bags that socially and economically fueled you.

"Y/N, how would you prophesize this year's hunger game will turn out ?" Festus said, you looked at him. "Well...I, presume that it going to end as fast as it started" You declared, smirking against the glass before you sipped the liquid inside your cup, "I don't expect any of thoses things to survive fast" Felix agreed with your thought, "The same" Arachne added.

You loved basking in the attention of others, made you feel like you had some power, and if people liked you. They would agree, give, gift, allow, and offer anything to you. It was shortly outlived, "Finally, the star pupil," Arachne said, their attention turning to Coriolanus, and yours flickered to him as well.

You bit your lip at the scene, glaring at her before you looked at him. "That's a snazzy shirt, what are those buttons.. tesserae?" Arachne marvels at his shirt, picking out several details, you put your hands covering your mouth to hide your smile.

"Hm..that's why they remind me of the maid's bathroom," Coriolanus remarked, looking at the button, turning his attention towards the group, "Not surprising with the people you associated yourself with, Coriolanus" You commented, taking a sip from your drink, faintly tilting your head to the side, denoting Sejanus's presence from afar.

"How malicious of you, y/n. That was the most humane thing you ever displayed to me" He said, his eyes and yours making contact with each other, making the room oddly tense up. "I'm tender-hearted but not a charity" You affirmed, the grip of your glass getting harder as you spoke to him.

Were you jealous, no, never. Why would you ever be jealous of him? Maybe it was his high intelligence, the way he carried himself, his charm on everyone he talked to? or everything that was neatly wrapped in a silky satin red bow, that was an embodiment of himself. It was funny to you, that you had this 'discreet' loathe for someone, and that person was in less than 6 feet of you, proximity 2 people away.

"Well, I heard this year there is something called the 'Plinth' prize" You turned your attention to Felix talking, "Something about Doctor Gauls' being in the building, Plinth.." Felix turned his head, "I mean just look at his spawn" I turned my attention to Sejanus from afar. "Who knew you could buy your way into the capitol?" Felix finished, "Well, money does control everything" you muttered, cocking your eyebrows.

"Well, you can't buy class, I mean...have you looked at his mother's outfit, Oh sorry, his ma's..." Festus mocked before the group snickering, "Dress a turnip in a ball gown, and it will still be begged to be mashed" Coriolanus joked, flickering his eyes away from Sejanus.

"Don't do that we all know you like him" Arachne commented, " I don't like him, Arachne. I tolerate him. He's District" Coriolanus finished, cutting her off completely, made you amused. "That's a low blow" You mockingly did a sad face at him, "The low blow is being district" Coriolanus muttered, you smirked at his actions.

"Tolerate him, just don't encourage. I heard these games how immoral these hunger games have been, putting him in the arena must—" Festus spoke he cut himself short as Sejanus walked toward the group. The whole thing was funny, snarky remarks being thrown, and your lips were graced with a smile every time.

Your ears heard the ringing of the bell signaling the start of the reaping. You got into your seat, sitting right next to Arachne.

It went delighting, well for you. You got a capable-looking tribute, she looked promising to you, and her name was Hera. Interesting to give a poor girl, a high-class name. You were in the bathroom, powering your nose, fixing up yourself. Puffing the power puff on your face, leaving your face having a matte finish. Applying your signature color on your lips.

Your ears heard the door opening, but your eyes didn't bother to look at the person who came as you were too busy with yourself.

Feeling a pair of hands on your waist, your eyes flickering to the mirror, looking at the one who was responsible, only to met with the eyes that you so daintily hate. You quickly turn yourself around, "What are you doing here?" You exclaimed, turning your attention to the blonde that came in, Coriolanus. "Do you know what bathroom you're in Coriolanus?" You crossed your arms, glaring at him.

"It didn't bother you then, why now" He walked closer to your awaiting form, "Then, I didn't resent you," You stated, feeling his hands on your bottom, lightly spinning you in a halfway motion. "Are you serious going to this in the bathroom.." Your eyes darted away from him, "What if I said, yes?" He lifted your head up narrowly so that your eyes met his "...what if we get caught?" You really did hate him, how he made you feel, how he controlled you, but it felt natural to be obedient to him, his cold stare meeting yours.

"Let's wait still we do" He leaned towards you and whispered to your ear, before taking you by surprise, taking your body and placing it on the marble of the cold bathroom counter. Making you hiss from the temperature change, his actions were rushed taking your tights off with the motion of matching colored panties, discarding them somewhere else.

His lips latching onto yours, leaning you back to the mirror, your arms holding down for support. Moans trailing down from your lips, groans from his, your hands on your cheeks, feeling his tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth. Opening your eyes slightly from the hungry kiss, catching your gaze at the growing size that was bound to be released from his constricted black pants. You withdraw from the kiss attempting to catch your breath, feeling yourself unravel in front of the blonde gentleman. "Just put 'it' in already" You whispered, hanging your arms that lack strength on his shoulders, "Not yet, my dove" Feeling his fingers dancing under your dress, his finger making contact with the sensitive parts of you, making you shutter.

"Coriolanus....be gentle, you know im sensitive" your lips pouting before feeling the intrusion, making you jump in your skin. Your languid moans being ripped out from your throat, while he pushes you further, pushing the digit further in and taking it out, thrusting in a frantic style.

Your body jolted and bounced back from the force he used. He edges you on, till your skin is covered with a layer of sweat, and everything around you makes you feel hot. You needed to get out of his dress in some way, it was another layer that denied you, the friction you needed.

His slender fingers carved a way into you, reaching into parts of you didn't know you had, your head hung low, feeling embarrassed from the vulgar things you both were doing in the bathroom, the feeling of being caught was only a chance but was never low. Your eyes hesitantly look at the door, feeling your skin pricking, distracting you. "Coryo...I'm close" you whispered, something in him erupted when you said that, that..very nickname. His fingers removed themselves from you, making you quiver, dissatisfied.

"Y/N..I want you to use that name...every time I thrust into you" He spoke, his very words made you wet, if not impossible more attracted. His hands on your upper thigh, pulling you towards him. Propping your hip at the edge of the counter, your cheeks were flushed, knowing what was next.

Next thing you knew his pant were discarded like your panties, and feeling him lining up with your slit. His hand is on your waist massaging the muscle, before he pushes his hips to yours, the intrusion feels better, moans trailing down on your lips. His hip colliding with yours. Your ears hearing him groan in pleasure, your own mind on cloud 9.

Feeling yourself getting needier for a sort of release or satisfaction.

"C-coryo, I'm close" you whimpered, your skin feeling more hot, your dress making you uncomfortable. His cock fucking into you, your body jolting at the frantic push into you. Hooking your arms around, feeling yourself almost unraveling, "Me too, my dove" Coriolanus groans out, his hips snapping back into you. Before you felt a crash of waves coming down on you, your gummy walls clamping down around his cock. Hearing his groans in your ear, as he thrust into you a few more times before pulling out of you, and spilling himself on your stomach.

Heavy breathing was all you heard, no words just your body growing tired from the minute. "You did well" his hands caressing your cheek gently. Your lips parted, as you stared into his icy-like eyes. Your chest heaves out, placing your hands on his, leaning into his embrace.

You hate it, but you can't understand why you love it at the same time...it fills you with confusing thoughts, but every time you look at the same blonde gentleman you thought you were to loathe, but your heart skips a beat.

You gave him back a small smile. Finding yourself surrendering and freezing into the snow and frost—and your heart being held with a lock and key.