littlemissmiller · 5 months ago
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Bad Press (series)
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Pairing: dark!toxic!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slight sejanus x fem!reader
Summary: (au) after avoiding getting caught cheating in the games, a hopeful presidential candidate snow is fed up with your slanderous reporting, so he decides put you in your place
Warning: 21+ (drinking), eventually smut, blackmail, threats, dom!snow, sub!reader, slight jealousy, slight misogyny, obsession, power imbalance, porn with a plot
Part 1
Part 2
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nephilimsss · 11 months ago
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𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀. coriolanus snow
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PAIRING ➨ coriolanus snow x fem!oc (named brutus) GENRE ➨ fiction SUMMARY ➨ taken after the song brutus by the buttress, it essentially goes lyric by lyric, and the chapters will be based off the lyric i choose that day ! WARNINGS ➨ maybe some smut in later chapters, death, manipulation, the hunger games, friends to enemies, enemies to fake lovers, fake lovers to murderers. MAIN MASTERLIST SERIES MASTERLIST
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brutus watched as coriolanus looked around the classroom to see if anyone else was laughing about the way his tribute, lucy gray baird, had acted towards the girl in the audience. when he saw that everyone was, in fact, laughing, he let out a few chuckles himself, relieved that his tribute was good at something that might get him something good from the citizens of panem. however, this short-lived moment came to a halt when he saw his former friend, brutus, remain stoic whilst watching him.
she had cut off all contact with him after she had found out that he was, actually, using her for his own personal gain, wanting to feel a mother's love that he hadn't felt since his own mother had passed away a few years before he began befriending brutus. he didn't want to admit it, but she was pretty smart in figuring out his intentions, though it took her a little while to understand them. he guessed that she had even told her own mother about how they were to never speak to each other again because they had passed each other multiple times since then, and her mother had looked desperate to call him over.
he had remembered what brutus had told him years prior: her mother wanted a boy and had given birth to her, a girl, instead, and now that he had come into her life, she treated him better than she did her own daughter.
it wasn't his fault that her mother barely loved her, and it sure as hell not his fault that he was treated better.
brutus glowered at him, hating every aspect of him, hating that he had used her to get to her mother. perhaps he was also using her for her money, since she had given him food out of the pure kindness of her heart, clothes to keep him warm in the winter, and knew that he had little to no money of his own whilst she was the heir to her family's fortune once her parents passed away.
"coriolanus got himself a good tribute," someone from their grade told brutus, nodding over to the blonde boy that stood, also staring at brutus.
"just cause she sings doesn't mean that she's a fighter," brutus crossed her arms. this year, she was not part of the mentor program that they decided to implement, but her father had paid her way into being part of the inner circle so she could give some more insight about the Games. "her songbird wings can be clipped. just you wait."
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vivicendium · 1 year ago
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i think something that elevates the hunger games franchise is not just the quality of writing but the integrity of it. tbosas isn’t just a cash-grab by suzanne collins in the age of sequels and reboots (though i won’t pretend that didn’t play a part), it’s a character study of the main antagonist with a different structure than the main trilogy. and importantly, it doesn’t just re-hash the same old themes and beats the main trilogy had, it expands on not just the world of the hunger games but the themes as well, it actually has something new to say about the trilogy’s themes about class, capitalism, power, and control, in a way that couldn’t be explored with the main story because the protagonist of that story simply did not have access to the world that’s being explored in tbosas.
i understand the people who call for books/movies to be made about haymitch, finnick, johanna, different years of the games — we love those characters and want to see more of them! i’d kill for a novella on finnick’s days mentoring tributes, or katniss’s parents falling in love. but at the end of the day we probably wouldn’t be very satisfied with those stories being fleshed out if they had absolutely nothing new to say about the world, they’d be enjoyable, but not as interesting and engaging as tbosas has been.
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xplore-the-unknwn · 1 year ago
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This also reminded me of how she said that Katniss wasn’t quite ready to harvest yet. Saying like “Katniss will take some time but eventually it’ll have you dealt with.” and it did! Fate sent him a Karma in the form of Katniss Everdeen.
Katniss who was a reminder of Lucy Gray, of his loved ones, of everything Sejanus stood for. Katniss who was a reminder of his PAST SELF- of a time where he could’ve done the right choices (with Lucy Gray, Tigris, correcting his father's sins with Highbottom etc.) of a time where everything could’ve been different.
Snow mentioned Lucy Gray strongly believed in fate when she said “You’re mine and Im yours. It’s written in the stars.” Of course he didn’t believe it. So when she was gone and Coriolanus Snow chose to cross that line of evil never turning back, the stars made sure that he will be haunted of it to his death.
A masterclass of storytelling right there. Suzanne you icon, you legend.
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francixoxoxo · 4 months ago
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⋆.° Swaddled in Silk ୨ৎ
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𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
𝐓𝐖: 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜., 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!), 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓
𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭
Little note: reader doesn’t get the abortion not because of pro-life beliefs, but because of personal wishes, this is NOT an anti-abortion sentiment!! Very much pro choice over here!!!!
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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.”
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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.
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Your due date was nearing. Coriolanus took more time to be with you, masterfully hiding the sadness behind his eyes as you mentioned anything baby-related. You thought he’d distance himself.
Completely the opposite. Though every conversation about the baby brought on a nasty argument, Coryo wasn’t too big a fool to know that you needed him right now. Regardless of his constant reminders that you two could simply adopt, you could go the surrogacy route, anything to keep you alive, you denied him. You were determined to give him a baby of his own from your body.
But no matter how many fights he’d resolve by folding you into his arms, cooing an apology and petting your hair, he knew he would never love the baby that’ll take you away from him.
Coriolanus couldn’t bear watching you waste away like this. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his wife to be glowing, to be happy and full with his baby— he didn’t want to choose between his child and you. He would choose you, if you let him.
Still. You tried to maintain normalcy.
Maybe it was nature, a maternal instinct implanted deep within you, but you were willing to die for this baby. You couldn’t describe it to Coriolanus if you tried. You felt a strange calm, in the weeks leading up to the baby’s birth. Knowing that one might die, being aware of one’s expiration date, well, it was eye-opening. You took to writing down your thoughts, writing down messages to your daughter. You were still quite certain she was a she, though you were keeping the sex a surprise. Oh, you had so much to tell her!
When you told Coryo about the journal, he’d smiled gently and nodded, humming that it was a darling idea. But he left the room a minute later, coming back with eyes rubbed pink.
You were aware of how much of a toll it was taking on Coryo. But you knew it was best. You knew he deserved a baby. You deserved the pride of giving that life to him, to the world.
One day, you’d been helping your maid with folding your clothes and the towels for your bathroom. You’d insisted you help, especially because you loved to chat with her.
You were laughing with her, listening to a story she was telling. You were listening, until you felt an indescribable pain in your lower half. You’d winced, clutching the towel you’d been folding, looking down at yourself and holding your belly with your other hand.
“Mrs. Snow?” Your maid’s voice was full of concern. “Is it—“
“I don’t know.” You gasped, the pain washing over you like a wave, and leaving just as fast as it had come. “Do you think..”
“I’ll call the doctor.” She rose to her feet hesitantly, eyes wide as if you were a time bomb in her hands. You could almost laugh at her expression.
You nodded. “Don’t rush, it might not be—“ you proved yourself wrong as an immense pain knocked the words from your mouth. You fold over, groaning, and sending your maid bolting for the phone.
You’d certainly underestimated childbirth.
It was absolutely the most painful experience of your life. If you hadn’t been afraid of death up until now, you definitely were now. It was a terrifying pain, a terrifying feeling knowing that while most women were strong enough to withstand such a natural pain, you might not be.
An ambulance came to bring you from the presidential mansion to the hospital. The entire ride, screams and tears filled the tiny vehicle. You’d begged for someone to call Coriolanus, the prospect of doing this without him was daunting and downright petrifying.
When you got to the hospital room, Coryo was there, dress-shirt disheveled and hair ungelled. He’d been working at the office today. You thanked every god out there for him, as he squeezed your hand and smoothed back your hair, doing his very best to hide his fear. Your screams wrung his heart, he made sure to wipe your tears and kiss your sweaty brow.
“You’re doing great, my love.” Coriolanus cooed, letting you squeeze his hand until he was numb. You’d whimpered, the pain subsiding and crashing over you again like an ocean wave.
You’d wailed to kingdom come. “I don’t want to die, Coryo!” You’d groaned. He was grateful you weren’t paying much attention to his face, your eyes on the ceiling, otherwise you would’ve seen the way your pleading broke him.
Coryo squeezed your hand, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “You won’t. You’ll be fine, darling, you’re doing everything right.” He’d promised, voice as assured as he could manage.
Another thing you underestimated was how stupid long the whole ordeal was.
Atleast another hour ticking by meant another hour you were alive. But it also meant another hour of searing pain, the feeling of your body betraying you and ripping itself open, tears wetting your cheeks and wails parting your lips.
Suddenly, it was like all that intense cramping and sharp pains were alleviated in a moment. As if some divine being had graciously lifted you off a bed of nails. Woozily, you lifted your head to see the baby in the nurse’s hands, another nurse cutting the ambilical cord. God, did it look rough, but it was yours. It was beautiful. You immediately reached for your baby, eyes bleary and voice hoarse, “I want to hold it.”
As if anybody would deny the First Lady. Oh, you could bawl as they lowered the baby onto your chest, who was actually bawling and crying. You laughed a bit breathlessly, eyes lifting to Coriolanus. His eyes were wide, bluer than you’d ever seen them, perhaps from the shine to them. But he’d never let his tears escape his eyes, blinking them away to lay a hand on his baby’s head, smiling stupidly.
“I made this.” You breathed, staring down at the little thing. The baby, that you glanced down to find was a girl. Your daughter.
Coriolanus nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. You could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re so strong, my love. So strong.”
“And I’m alive.” You laughed, so focused on your daughter than you didn’t notice Coryo’s sidelong glance to the sheer amount of blood between your legs. He caught the eye of a nurse, who’d given him a curt nod.
Coriolanus let out the breath he’d been holding for the past two months. “I’m infinitely grateful.” He spoke softly, reverently. He was afraid that if he said any more, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Isn’t she pretty?” You sighed, looking up to meet your husband’s eye. Coryo just shook his head, smiling to the point that his eyes crinkled— speaking of which, they were welling up again.
“Beautiful.” He cooed. “What’re we calling her?” Coriolanus said that last bit in a breathy chuckle, squeezing your arm gently as a nurse moved to take the baby to be cleaned. You two had spoken about names before, but never decided on something definite.
You stared after your daughter, your tears drying on your cheeks and the pain twixt your legs fading into the background. Your heart was beating, your chest rising and falling. You were alive. Oh, you went from resigning to never feel the swell of your lungs with air to filling them as much as possible.
“Ruby, I think.” You breathed. A name that Coryo had suggested, long ago, perhaps in the first months of your pregnancy. A broad smile tiptoed across his lips as he smoothed down your hair.
Coryo nosed your cheekbone, not minding the sweat lingering on your skin from the whole ordeal, mumbling against you, “A gem.”
“A gem.” You agreed, turning your cheek to press your lips to his. Oh, how you loved him. Your husband. Your lover. The father of your baby. You know he’ll be the best father— doting, loving, protective..
If the way he clutched onto your arm as you kissed, his eyes and grip betraying his anxiety was any indication of how much he cared for you, how terrified he was to lose you? Then you’d married the right man.
If the way he dutifully fluffed your pillows and got his hands on a sleeping mask was a gesture of his love? You were set for life.
If the way his sapphire eyes shone with admiration, with affection and devotion for your little daughter, swaddled in silk in her crib was a testament to the father Coriolanus would be?
Then Ruby was a lucky little girl. You were certainly a lucky woman.
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pasukiyo · 11 months ago
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BLOOD ON HIS CANVAS
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coriolanus snow x f!reader word count; 2,085 warnings; coriolanus snow, manipulation, smut, little to no plot, just porn summary; she was a dove, forever meant to be trapped in his little cage. she knows this. and her body is his canvas, his to taint, to paint. and coriolanus snow will do whatever it takes to ensure he has full control.
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 She doesn’t know. 
 And she’ll never know. 
 She’ll never know the things he’d done, the things he’d done to get to where he is now, the things he will do and what he was already planning to do again. She’ll never know he was a killer, that he’d kill anyone that stood between him and power. 
 She’ll never know that he’d kill her too, should she stand in his way. 
 Just like she’ll never know his love was never hers. 
 But she will know she belongs to him. And she will love him, blindly, and she’ll know that she won’t leave him, just like everyone else had. She’ll never know that everyone in Coriolanus Snow’s life has left him, and good, let it be that way. 
 There were some things better left in the darkness— and Coriolanus Snow was shrouded in it. It was better this way— he became President of Panem this way. He had all the power, money, and control in the world because of it, so who was he to change what was already perfect?
 All she will know is the same white walls, the same white marble floors, the same white curtains, the same perfectly cut green grass. She was a dove, too pretty to be let free of her cage. She may have been a bird, yes, but he’d cut her wings long ago, stripping her of her freedom. 
 And Coriolanus Snow would teach her to love it. 
 And he did by slowly cutting her off from the rest of the world, insisting Panem was much too dangerous for a pretty, little, untainted bird such as her. The Districts were full of animals, filthy beasts who would only do her harm, even his Capitol full of predators, men who couldn’t be trusted. He insisted he was the only one who could protect her, the only one who could keep her from harm. 
 And she believed him. 
 It was perfect how easy it was to trap her. It made him wonder how much more he could get away with. 
 Even now, as she slowly strode towards him in nothing but a white slip nightgown, the straps falling down like teardrops off her shoulders, he wondered how much more he could take from her. 
 After all, nothing was ever enough for Coriolanus Snow. 
 He stared as she approached, the perfectly untainted gown now pooled at her feet, her bare skin and every curve of her body now gazing back at him like a carefully crafted gift— just for him. Coriolanus made no moves to touch her, not yet, at least. 
 She was to understand that she was under his control, and not to let it be twisted the other way around. She was there to do whatever he pleased, to make him feel good. 
 She was his dove, his pretty, little play-thing. 
 Whether she should like it or not, he knew she loved it. 
 Coriolanus let his gaze trail down her face to her neck, perfect and untainted, just as everything should be. He ventured down lower to her breasts and the valley between them where a faint mark on the side of her left tit stared at him and he leaned forward, a furrow in his brow as he reached over to touch her there. He could feel her shudder as his fingertips fell like a ghost over her skin, her flesh growing warm in his touch’s wake. 
 “What is this?” He asked her, unblinking and his eyes never leaving the faint mark tainting her skin. She gulped as she opened her mouth to answer, “from last night, darling. You… you left a mark on me, remember?”
 The memories from last night flashed in the back of Coriolanus’ mind, the taste of her skin on his tongue making his taste buds sing in delight, the high his arousal gave him making him see white. He remembered the way her flesh felt between his lips as he sucked on the side of her breast, how it felt between his teeth when he nipped her and etched his mark there. 
 For a moment, all was silent and she shivered, wondering if he’d punish her for this. When a few moments had passed, the blues of his irises slowly rolled up her body until their gazes met, and he pressed his lips to the mark in a soft kiss. It was like a shock, a jolt of electricity ripping through her like lightning and she shuddered, her lips trembling at the merest touch of his lips. His kiss was so tender, so soft and so different, it almost made her knees buckle right beneath her weight. 
 Coriolanus pressed another kiss to the mark on her skin, then another, and another. Tainted. Her skin was tainted with the phantom of his lips, as if her body was his canvas. The idea he possessed her in such a way gave him a high like no other, made him feel so in control, so powerful. 
 He hummed against her skin as his kisses trailed over to her right breast, his teeth nipping and lips sucking at her supple skin, her body falling limp in his arms as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his fingers into the small of her back. Her head tipped backwards and her lips fell agape as he etched more of his marks into her skin, tainting her, painting her. 
 She was a work of art, his work of art, and he would treat her as such. 
 “Cor— Coryo,” his shortened name tumbled from her lips in a pleased murmur, her fingernails on his shoulder and in his hair. Coriolanus peered up at her through hooded lids again as his kisses worked their way up to her nipple, watching her face as it twisted in pleasure, her brow furrowed in bliss. He rolled his tongue over the erect bud and sucked, his teeth grazing over it. A quake tumbled through her body like thunder and she trembled in his arms, fisting the hairs at the back of his head. 
 Finally, he released her nipple with a wet pop, pushing away from her to stand up, his hands on her waist. He peered down at her and her eyelids fluttered open and for a moment, just a single moment, their gazes met and Coriolanus felt something flutter at the pit of his stomach, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. He wrapped a hand around her neck and pressed his palm flat to the back of her head to reel her lips into his before he let the feeling ruin the moment, insisting he could mull it over later. 
 His tongue was completely dominant over hers, in fact, she didn’t even try overpowering his. She knew he was in control, knew her place. 
 The thought had Coriolanus’ hands venturing down to her hips to turn them around, pushing her down into the plush mattress of the bed. He towered over her, casting a shadow over her face as he kissed her harder, his knee in between her legs, her arousal warm and wet against his clothed thigh. She whimpered when he pressed his leg closer against her and he pulled away, either of their chests heaving as they chased air back into their lungs. 
 A plea sat on the tip of her tongue and her lips trembled, desperate to ask for more but her words falling short, unable to catch her breath. Coriolanus only watched her, watched the tears form in her eyes and the way her breasts heaved up and down as she chased air back into her lungs while he stripped himself of his shirt, unbuckling his belt. He tossed either of these things to the side before undoing the buttons of his pants and he watched the way her eyes dared a glance down at him as he rid himself of his bottoms, leaving them both bare, nude in front of one another. 
 The sight seemed to steal her breath away once more. 
 A pathetic whisper of his name hardly managed to fall past her lips before Coriolanus was back on top of her, stealing her words with his kiss as she bucked into his touch. He could feel her heat against him, could feel the proof of her arousal, of her obedience as it rubbed against his cock. Without once breaking their kiss, he bucked into her, filling her up to the brim with one stroke of his hips. 
 She was the one to break their kiss this time as her lips fell agape and her head tilted back into the mattress, her back arching off of the bed until their chests were pressed together as a cry ripped through her. Coriolanus pressed his lips and eyelids together, willing the groan at the back of his throat back down despite how tight she was squeezing him, despite how much he relished her sounds. 
 “Cor… Coryo… Coriolanus,” she panted as he bucked his hips again, harder this time, as if testing her. She was mewling now, limp and pliant in his arms, submissive like a kitten. Coriolanus balled his fist and pressed it down into the mattress beside her head, using his opposite to grab at her neck, his thumb just barely putting down pressure on her throat. 
 And he bucked his hips, once again. 
 And he didn’t stop this time. 
 He was pounding her, pistoning his hips harder and faster with each thrust into her, her walls clenching down on him so tight, he couldn’t keep the groan that rumbled from his throat. Tears were streaming down her face as he worked her up and down and up and down the bed, feeling a knot begin to form at the pit of her belly. 
 Coriolanus could tell she was already close. He didn’t really care. 
 He was chasing his own high, fucking her harder and harder to push himself even closer to his limit. She was coming undone on his cock but Coriolanus showed no sign nor intent of stopping. She could come all she wanted to for all he cared. He didn’t care if she’d had enough, they weren’t done until he decided they were done. 
 So despite her whimpers that she was close again, he only thrusted harder, fucking her like they were animals, like he was feral, like he hated her. Coriolanus’ stresses and frustrations were being fucked back into her, and he was determined to fill her full of each and every one of them, as if giving them to her. 
 She was sobbing, fat tears of pleasure rolling down the sides of her face as he felt that high he so desperately craved on the horizon, so close he could taste it. Her cries permeated the bedroom, nearly making the walls shake but he didn’t care. He was so close, so, so, so close and oh, when he reached that high, it was like heaven on earth. 
 With a few last thrusts, he was pumping her full of his release, her skin not only his but her body, all of it, his as well. She was his possession, a canvas that was his to taint over and over again, as many times as he pleased. 
 She knew this all too well. 
 Coriolanus collapsed down on the bed beside her and he stared into the whites of the ceiling overhead as she crawled over to him, curling up to his side and resting her head against his chest. He had an arm wrapped around her shoulders absentmindedly, his other folded behind his head. 
 Her skin was painted red with the marks his mouth had left on her, her every limb ached and her cunt sore and pulsing in his wake. He was all over her, etched and engraved inside every nook and cranny of her body. 
 She was his, completely and totally his. 
 She knew this. 
 And she loved it. 
 She loved him. 
 Coriolanus seemed to know this too, and he wondered if the flutter he had felt in his stomach earlier meant that he loved her too. He blinked as his vision began to blur and he squeezed his eyelids shut, letting himself relax further down into the mattress. 
 He wasn’t entirely sure what that feeling he felt in his belly meant. But he wouldn’t dare tell a single soul about it. Not even her. 
 After all, some things were better left in the darkness— and Coriolanus Snow was shrouded in it. 
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a/n; so yeah the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie finally coming out has brought me back into my hunger games phase so... enjoy :) also sorry for any errors, i wrote this in an hour while in the bathtub LMAO
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goosita · 10 months ago
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keeping an affair quiet between you and young!politician!snow is harder than you thought it would be
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“shhhh, darling. they’ll hear you,” coryo murmured as he pressed kisses down your throat. his hands were around your waist and you were sitting on his desk, legs parted for him to stand between. he silenced another one of your soft giggles with a bite to your skin before soothing it over with his tongue.
“can’t help it,” you whispered, pulling him closer by his tie. “feels so good, coryo.”
he smirked and pressed his hips harder into yours, his clothed cock hard against your inner thigh. he had your skirt bunched up around your hips and one of his hands fell to your thigh, pulling your leg tighter around him.
“i know baby, i know. feels good for me too.”
you let out a soft moan when he bought his mouth back to yours, kissing you until you felt delirious from the taste of him. his lips were so soft, urgent and hot against your own. you knew you had to break apart soon, he had a meeting in 5 minutes. but you soaked up as much of his attention as you could.
“can’t wait to take you home tonight,” he panted softly when he pulled back. his normally clear blue eyes are stormy now, pupils blown wide as he looks at you. his words made you shiver, and of course he noticed it. “i’m going to ruin you, my darling. can’t wait to feel you trembling and taking my cock like the precious, good girl you are.”
“please, coryo,” you gasped, pushing your hips harder against his. he groaned softly, lashes fluttering at the friction of you grinding on him.
“shut up,” he hissed, though there was no real anger behind his words. he could hear the people in the waiting area outside his door chatting casually, completely unaware of the scene just inside his office. “now’s not the time to be begging like a slut.”
coryo slapped your thigh harshly, mouth covering yours before the squeak you let out could be heard. after a few more seconds of his tongue brushing against yours teasingly, he pulled himself from you.
“going to be the death of me,” he muttered. but his voice was fond and his dimples showed as he tried to suppress his grin. he carefully pulled your skirt back down and then his hands were smoothing your hair back down.
“lipstick,” he ordered softly, holding his palm out. you fished the tube from your pocket and handed it to him wordlessly.
“good girl.”
coryo smiles softly and uncapped the lipstick, one hand holding you still by your chin while he meticulously dragged the makeup over your lips. his thumb swiped at the edge of your bottom lip, perfecting the line there. not a single thing out of place. he smiled and closed it again, sliding it into his own suit jacket pocket.
“there,” he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “nice and pretty and ready for me to mess up all over again after this fucking meeting.”
you both smiled at each other as he helped you down from his desk. the wetness in your panties was uncomfortable but you’d deal with it, knowing coryo intended to hold up his promise of taking care of you later. he was nothing if not a man of his word.
he shot you a wink after you walked over to the door, taking a seat at his desk as you addressed the man waiting to meet with him. you grinned up at the man politely.
“mr. snow will see you now, sir.”
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diorchids · 10 months ago
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ALL I NEED, CORIOLANUS SNOW.
nsfw ahead !
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coriolanus snow loves you too much. the way you’re so loyal to him and only him, he could cry. 
the way you pepper kisses all over his bruises, the way you rub his back, what's there not to love? the way you dig your nails deep into his back when he pushes deeply inside of you. 
coriolanus loves vocalness, also. he groans in your ear while you take him so well. his rosy lips slickened with spit as he digs his fingers into your hips, nails creating little crescents into your sides.
his hips snapping in and out of you as he pushes your head farther onto the mattress, “there we go, doin’ so good.” when you moan into the plush pillow your face is being pushed into. his cock digging and slipping further into you, so nicely.
his sweaty chest touches your back when he leans over, cooing and groaning in your ear. he’s all over you, intertwining his fingers with yours gripping the bed. the tip of his cock so close to your cervix while he grips your breasts, “so fuckin’ good, so fuckin’ good for me.” his praises only adding to the pleasure. 
“on top. on top, c’mon.” he taps your thigh, you’re so fucked out you don’t react in time. rough hands grab your sides, flipping you onto your back, so exposed to him.
you’re so fucked out, covered in bite marks and spit. his eyes scan your body, looking so hungry, so ready for you. “’m sorry,” your lips all red and puffy. 
you’re above him, bouncing up and down while his nails dig into your ass like claws, pushing you all the way down on his cock, rubbing circles on your puffy, abused, red clit. his cock pistons in and out of you as you lean over, breasts touching his chest as he groans like an animal in your ear.
his cock abuses its way through your pussy, him biting your lip, fingers pushing deep into your hips when he slams your cunt onto his throbbing cock. 
“s’ so good, you feel so good, baby.” hot breath against your breasts, cooing onto you, reveling in your smell. his cock twitches inside of you, him swallowing hard. his cock pulls out of your cunt, juices rolling along veins while hands grab at your waist before flipping you over, your ankles getting thrown over his shoulders.
he jerks his cock before slipping inside of your glistening cunt, earning a moan from the both of you, perfectly in sync. hands find your thighs once again and dig nails into them, ramming his thick cock into your perfect cunt.
“takin’ me so good. i love you, love it so much,” he tapers off while hunched over, arms wrapped around you while still thrusting in and out, animalistically. your tight pussy grips his cock in a way that makes him want to cum all in you right then and there. “love y’ too, love you all up ‘n me.” your moans all quiet while his whimpers and groans go straight to your ear whilst he grazes his teeth along your jaw, marking what was his. 
your cunt taking him so deep, having him prodding at your cervix. a familiar feeling accompanies your full stomach, fluttering and feeling so tight, you’re gonna cum all over his cock.
sloppy kisses all over your neck, jaw, and chest. “so fuckin’ good, taste so fuckin’ good.” warm tongue dragging over your breasts, all over when he grabs the other, rolling your nipple between his fingers.
your fingers scratching at his back, him biting his bottom lip. he lifts your back to wrap his arms around you once again, tightly, so you can’t leave. “s’ all mine, mine.”
eyes locking onto yours while he’s fucking you so hard. hips slamming right into your pussy, his chest on yours, “gonna put – put a baby n’ you.” eyebrows all furrowed, hairs sticking to his forehead, looking so determined, he wasn’t going to break his promise, he couldn’t. 
your pussy being pushed to its limits and your stomach getting all tight, your legs shaking under him. “go ahead n’ come for me.” his words make your tummy release, and you fall apart under him, cumming all over his fat cock.
but he doesn’t stop, he can’t stop. juices getting all over his stomach and dick. clit needing some friction, your fingers snaking their way to it, rubbing over and over, his hips won’t stop slapping into you, so needy like an animal.
“felt good? felt so fuckin’ good, huh?” you try to nod, drool pooling and falling down the sides of your mouth, pussy still dripping while you squirm up under his never-ending abuse of your cunt.
your eyes long gone at the back of your head, rolling and darting back and forth from his eyes to your eyelids. his hips stutter, a whimper coming from his throat, eyebrows twitching, lips planting a kiss onto yours. “gonna make you s’ full with my cum, wan’ that?” arms squeezing your torso so tightly.
hips speeding up, his pelvis can’t help but slam into you, so hungry. his cum spills inside of you, groaning and moaning into your ear, insides being coated in him. 
thrusting a few more times before stopping, not pulling out, just throbbing and thrashing all up in you.
“i'll keep it all in. s’ all i need. so warm.” arms wrapped around you, snugly.
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a/n: 700 likes/reblogs on "mine" ?????? thank you ! also , happy holidays ! watching the bear
also im still on that sejanus request !!!!
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anisangeldust · 4 months ago
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Religion in your lips 𝜗𝜚⋆
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Summary: A turning point had been established in your relationship with the president. Or several..
Part: ← ii →
Warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, creepy/perv Coryo, misogyny, masturbation (m), wet dreams, emotional abuse, manipulation, mentions of grooming, allusions to murder, objectification.
A/N: I need him expeditiously. Also I’m so sorry that this is so late! I’m working as fast as I can!
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A dastardly crime you had unwillingly committed, you had began to not only wedge yourself into the life of the president, you also absentmindedly plagued his whole being. One week, one week of work and you were already a problem.
Coriolanus couldn’t help the way you became his muse, you occupied every free and taken crevice of his mind, yet you were so blissfully ignorant of the predator so carefully stalking your move; waiting for a prime opportunity to pounce. The President was a smart man however, he knew that patience was key, and if he wanted to have you at all, he needed to be careful.
Everyday he’d watch from his office as you took your lunchtime break, sitting within the gardens of the presidential estate and chatting with the gardeners. Taking notice of which flowers you seemed to be drawn to, as to which he decided he’d get you a bouquet of your favorite under the feign guise of thankfulness. Testing the waters he thought.
So Coriolanus couldn’t help but feel satisfied when he saw the small smile on your face. Was it that easy to impress you? Nevertheless, he felt immense satisfaction when you tucked the little note he wrote into your front pocket and took one of the flowers to place in your hair.
The young president swore he’d never care for another again, yet here he stood, in lust with a simple worker, and sooner or later he was going to get what was his. To get you.
——
“Gypsophila is a highly toxic flower, deadly if consumed. But it is very pretty.” You rambled to the president as he sat sipping tea. The most beautiful sight you were, so full of life, so happy, oh how he craved to posses you; to destroy the youthful innocence you paraded like a trophy.
“Interesting indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, his gaze never leaving your perky chest and silky hair. A beat of comfortable silence passed when young Snow remembered his fiancée’s behavior, the dwindling aggravation now building up again. “And i’d like to apologize on behalf of my bride-to-be. She is a little shall I say.. enraging at times” He sighs and leans back.
“Worried I was not Coriolanus.” Your smile and innocent acceptance made him furious in a way. The need to sink his teeth into you was almost overwhelming. He wanted to cut you open and crawl inside your ribcage. This was a feeling he’d known never before, and he was positive it’ll linger for the rest of his natural life. Before you blessed him with your presence, he had yet to see someone so willing to do a good job, your aura was addicting.
“You know, I don’t really love her.” The words left Coriolanus’ lips before he could stop himself. He almost chuckled at the way your brows furrowed.
“My condolences? Why.. are you marrying her then?”
“You know, capital business.” He sighs and leans back. If only he had picked you! Such a scenario had swept through his mind many times since he’d met you. If only he could’ve waited. “Such a shame I choose such a…brat.” He scowled at the thoughts of his fiancée.
The look on your face was somewhere between shocked and startled. It was amusing how Coriolanus could tell you were biting your tongue to hold back your own thoughts on his future beloved.
“Allow me to not meddle in your personal business Coriolanus.. but I suppose if you want unsolicited advice, it’s never too late to change your mind. You’re already president. One called off marriage won’t kill you” your polite voice was so calming to the achy soul he possessed. The young Snow knew you had no idea of his intentions for you, and that thought was delicious.
“I appreciate your insight darling. I shall think about your words carefully. I fear you’re too smart for the position you hold at the moment.” He chuckles. You deserved the seat of First Lady, the title of his wife, do be the mother of his future kids, and it took every molecule of his being to hold back from expressing that desire.
Comfortable silence fell into the room, only the quiet scuffling of feet or sipping tea piercing the lack of noise. The thought of being so comfortable with a person was a concept so foreign to Coriolanus. the last person he was comfortable with had betrayed him, left him to die in the forest. Something about you, however, was different. His songbird didn’t see what she missed, she craved the wild life she had. You enjoyed order, respected Panem, you’d never leave him like she did. You’d never leave him like she did. A pang of vulnerability struck the president’s chest. Could he really trust you? Would you betray him like she had? No, you wouldn’t, because he could control you. And you’d let him.
If the want wasn’t already clear enough in its mind, that moment solidified it. He had to get rid of Livia. He had to have you. and then his face falls in the same breath. A foreign thought crossed his mind at the same time though. What if you already had someone? The idea made him seethe. How dare someone else have what’s his? He’d ask you. No need to jump to conclusions right?
“Darling. You’ve never mentioned any kind of boyfriend? Don’t mind my prying, I’m just curious.” He says in masterly hidden mock confusion.
“Oh uh.. I was dumped actually. Right before I took this job. He said he needed to focus on himself or whatever else they all say” his words adding a small flush to your cheeks.
Good. This was good. No, this was excellent. Single and vulnerable. Ready for the perfect man to save you from your pain and heartbreak, ready for a strong and handsome man like him to make you feel worthy again. He couldn’t have written this better himself.
“Oh darling, I’m so sorry. He sounds like a dunce, you’re clearly too good for him anyway.” Coriolanus smiles, opening up the door of careful manipulation.
A bloom of pink popped into your cheeks at his words. “Thank you Mr. President. I’m thankful we’re over. And I appreciate your compliment.” Your murmur back was almost funny. And the attempt to hide the flush on your face with turning and dusting a random surface was funnier to him.
“You’re welcome darling.” His short response and wink made your heart beat visibly faster, but he chose just to let you do your job and not bring it up. Mentally he was kicking himself. For having you so close yet unreachable. How was he supposed to get rid of his bride-to-be? It would be a scandal, one too big to cover. The Cardew family would stop at nothing to tear him down if he left her, he’d lose all he had. Amidst his thinking, he stood up and pleaded against the bookshelf you were dusting. “You can tell me if Livia says something rude. You’re a maid, yes, but you’re still a person. Don’t be scared to let me know if she’s making you uncomfortable.” He cooed smoothly.
“Will do. Thank you Mr. President. Though she isn’t that bad. We just got off on the wrong foot. But of course I’ll tell you if she does anything.” Your cheery attitude was refreshing. A light in a dull atmosphere.
“Thank you darling.” Coriolanus kissed your hand gently before leaving. What a gentleman.
——
Damn you and your little dress. Damn you and the fabric that clung to your curves so nice. How could he focus on anything? His eyes darted around his office, desperate to find something to focus on, and find something he did. A rag you’d left. A rag that you clipped onto your skirt to wipe off your forehead occasionally. Immediately, Coriolanus stood up and took the white fabric in his hands. It belonged to the manor, it was soft and good quality, and upon further inspection, it had a small stain on it. Your sweat.
His pants tightened as he brought the fabric up to his nose and took a whiff, your perfume lingered on the threads, teasing him. The thought of using Livia crossed his mind, after all, what was she good for if not as a tight cunt? But it felt almost insulting to you to fuck Livia in your place. The last time he did it left a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn’t just take you, not yet, he needed more time before he made his move. Left with no other options, Coriolanus locked his office with a click and sat down in his chair.
He freed his erections from the confinement of his pants and boxers, softly stroking his hardening cock with the marked cloth. The sight of his pre mixed with the little bit of sweat had him going crazy. The need for you was insatiable, he couldn’t help himself as he pumped his hand up and down his cock, stopping to tease the fat tip with his new prized possession. He brought the tag up to his nose to smell your scent again, pumping his dick as he inhaled the fumes. He came to the thought of spreading you open like a flower and indulging in your soaking pussy. He was only lightly embarrassed when his mind came to. Though it was drowned out quickly by the satisfaction of his orgasm. He needed you badly, and he was more determined than ever to get you.
——
Over the next few days he gave you small gifts, chocolate, a bracelet, an up in pay, all because he “felt bad you got broken up with” of course. He was a compassionate man, of course he cared about you! How dare you think he was just going this to get you to trust him and tell him more about your private life? He was. It was a little tiring having his other staff ask you the questions and then report back to him, but the smile and flush on your cheeks made it worth it. And his attempts weren’t in vain, the longer he pined, the more you told him, the more ammunition he had to get you to say more; a deliciously vicious cycle.
The more you trusted him, the more you told him about anything Livia did, He expected Livia to be an asshole. He knew that it was only a matter of time before she was rude enough that you said something. What Coriolanus didn’t expect, was for his fiancée to physically harm you. And especially not right in front of him. The soft thud and following mewl of pain from outside his office had caught his attention. He got up and went to the source of the sound, only to find his fiancée standing over your crumpled form.
“I thought your job was to clean? How are you supposed to get anything done if you’re such a klutz? Oh come on, that didn’t hurt” she taunted as you tried to get up off the floor. It was clear she pushed you, or tripped you in some way, that didn’t matter to Coriolanus though, she hurt you. And he was pissed.
“Hey, what the fuck happened here?” He demanded, anger pointed 100% at Livia, though the anger made you wince.
Livia turned around immediately, acting like she had found and helped you. “Oh It’s all okay Coryo, she was just cleaning and she fell, nothing to worry about, I was just making sure she’s alright!” Livia clutched her chest, gently helping you up. Coriolanus didn’t believe it for a second.
“Really? Is that true?” He said as he turned to you, eyes squinted in disbelief
You felt put on the spot, he’d be mad if you lied, but you couldn’t just tell him she did it and run the risk of her hating you more than she already did, so the former seemed best. “Y-yeah. She, she did find me. I just fell” you muttered sheepishly.
Coriolanus knew you lied, and that angered him, But he also knew that you would’ve told the truth if Livia wasn’t there. The knowledge that you were going to tell him everything after was comforting enough for him to huff and sigh “I’m sorry. I just don’t appreciate dawdling.” He sailed in an eerily calm tone. Livia snickered like she’d won something, and Coriolanus forced himself to just keep walking and not shout at his fiancée.
Young Snow was standing and peering out of the window in his office when he heard you open the door and walk in. He heard you gently start to clean the many books and surfaces that lined the room. Coriolanus liked that about you, you never spoke to him unless he spoke to you first, and it turned him on.
“My anger was not directed towards you.” He started “though I’m slightly miffed that you lied to me. Tell me what she actually did” he turned around to look at you, his face stern yet inviting as he waited for your explanation of the events.
He noticed your slight gulp and timid frame as you put down your rag to look at him. “She uh.. I was wiping down lamps in one of the lounges when.. she- she pushed me into a table, and a p-picture frame landed on my head..” your mumbles and stutters would have been cute if he was pissed off. The nerve that woman had, and to play victim too? He was just about at his wits end with her.
“It’s okay darling. I believe you. And I’m quite annoyed that she would abuse staff like that. She’s jealous that you’re better than she is, that’s all” he coos and walks towards you. He gently puts his large hands on your arms “you’re doing great. You’re the best maid I could’ve asked for. Now go finish your job for today. I’ll get you something for the inconvenience and I’ll talk with her.” He said as he leaned down and gently kissed your cheek.
——
“I don’t appreciate you abusing staff Livia.” His voiced was stern and unapologetic, the opposite of how he approached you, as he entered his quarters of the presidential manor.
“What could you possibly be talking about Coryo? If it’s about the maid then I told you, she fell and I found her. It’s not my fault she’s a klutz.” Livia scoffed at the mention of you.
Coriolanus slammed his hand on the wall, his eyes full of fire. “I didn’t give you permission to speak woman. Shes been working here 3 weeks and she’s ‘fallen’ twice. And both times she was conveniently in your surroundings. If it happens again I’ll be very, very disappointed.” He says through gritted teeth and goes to walk away but stops. “And my name isn’t Coryo. Its Coriolanus. I don’t care that you’re my fiancée, you’ll treat me with respect.” He demanded before pushing past her to take a much needed shower.
Falling into the clutches of morpheus came easier than expected that night. In the realm of dreams, Coriolanus' unconscious mind becomes a canvas of desire and longing. Your delicate form becomes the centerpiece of his erotic fantasy, envisioned sprawled across his desk, the epitome of seductive submission. As the dream unfolds, his touches and caresses paint vivid imagery, a private symphony of pleasure that reflects his deepening admiration and desire for you. Coriolanus' dream grows even more intense as you become increasingly sensual and inviting, giving yourself to him so fully and passionately. The boundaries of his imagination blur, and he loses himself in the intoxicating pleasure of your presence. He moans and groans, overtaken by the overwhelming sensations of desire and satisfaction. He whispers your name gently, his voice filled with both reverence and need
When his eyes cracked open to the rays of morning sunlight, he was both grateful for the opportunity of another day with you, and irked that he woke up to the sleeping body of his useless fiancée.
——
Coriolanus started looking forward to when you’d come into his office to clean and chat. What was once cold small talk had morphed into you telling him everything about yourself. How you were a recent academy graduate, you were open to but didn’t have any plans for University, you had a white cat named Pearl that you love like a child, and you preferred tea to coffee. All facts that seemed so mundane about others were so tantalizing coming from your lips.
“So this job is only until you decide on what you want to do? That’s a shame. You’re very good at it. Replacing you wouldn’t be fun. But I’m proud of you for working and earning money. Not many people do that in the capitol. Especially not those who come from rich backgrounds like you do.” Coriolanus said with feigned nonchalance as he absentmindedly stirred his tea.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who could clean the mansion just as well, if not better than I” your tone was sweet and soft, you’d never understand. No one could ever be you, you were too important, how would he survive without you? He wouldn’t.
Coriolanus stood up and chuckled “I’m sure, but none of them are as kind, or sweet, or as beautiful as you” he coos and tilts your chin up to look at him “none of them could captivate me like you have” he murmurs. This was a now or never moment. He couldn’t go back now, and with your big eyes preening up at him he couldn’t resist. He gently leaned down and captured your lips in his own, gently cradling your head and holding your face.
“Coriolanus..” you murmured and he gently broke away with a small smirk playing at the edges of his lips, his gaze cast down to look at your wide and surprised expression.
“Shhh.. I know you wanted that too darling, tell me to stop and i will” he mumbles as he captures your lips in his own again, gently waiting for you to accept the kiss. A wave of satisfaction washes over him as he fells you relax and accept the kiss, he grins against your lips as he feels you hands on his chest.
Your lips tasted of a sweetness he had never experienced, how he was meant to pretend he didn’t want you was a problem for the future, right now all that mattered where your lips and his desires. Getting rid of Livia may have to happen sooner than he anticipated.
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Taglist!
@daenerysqueenofhearts @caramelandvenus @yoursrosie @wearemadeofstardust0 @kay-lla @mrsriddlenott @sleekervae @ianales @qoopeeya @arzua10 @matcha-muses @jitsuki12 @nojeicintjzonfhw @poppyflower-22 @lustforrush @jefferson-in-the-tardis @aurabambi @royal-sunflower @rovckwells @rubys-rere @iydImsydxoxo @lucyisdoingfine @nyxxoxo @paradisepoisons @miserableblood @poppyflower-22 @anonymous14261703170309 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @sqct @anakinluvr4ever (tell me if I missed you and you’ll be added🫶)
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runningfrom2am · 11 months ago
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Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!
as long as you need me - c.s
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pairing: coryo x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav / coriolanus snow masterlist
a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!
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You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 
"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.
"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.
"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.
"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.
"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"
"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.
"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"
"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."
"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.
At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.
Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.
These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.
Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.
"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.
"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.
"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."
Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.
"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.
"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.
"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."
"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.
The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.
"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."
Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.
Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.
You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.
You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.
Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.
"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.
As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."
He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"
He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.
"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.
He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.
Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."
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taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 
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kitkatdoodlez · 7 months ago
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Silver springs x ballad of songbirds and snakes
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danielfilm · 10 months ago
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i need him biblically, scientifically, mathematically, statistically, genuinely, emotionally, physically, intensely, bluntly, enthusiastically, melodramatically, and desperately
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nephilimsss · 11 months ago
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𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝘆 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. coriolanus snow
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PAIRING ➨ coriolanus snow x fem!oc (named brutus) GENRE ➨ fiction SUMMARY ➨ taken after the song brutus by the buttress, it essentially goes lyric by lyric, and the chapters will be based off the lyric i choose that day ! WARNINGS ➨ maybe some smut in later chapters, death, manipulation, the hunger games, friends to enemies, enemies to fake lovers, fake lovers to murderers. SELENE NOTE ➨ first installment ! MAIN MASTERLIST
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coriolanus snow was a strange child, no matter what he said against it. he showed little to no emotion, and sometimes he had to look around him to figure out which emotion he had to put forth to make himself look normal. however, coriolanus believed brutus—a girl with a boy's name—to be strange, from the way she picked haphazardly at the frayed edges of her uniform, to how she picked apart her steak sandwich and ate it in three separate pieces. first the bread slices, then the meat that was once in the middle, though she would nibble slightly at it before placing it in her back, wrapped in an expensive silk handkerchief.
if corio did that, his grandma'am would surely be angry with him for dirtying up something that was more than likely older than his father. he did not want to associate with brutus, no ma'am or sir, he was perfectly fine with sitting away from her, halfway across the classroom. she didn't exactly look dirty or poor, since every time she frayed her skirts, they would be immediately repaired or replaced with ones made of a heavier, more expensive material, or how she once complained about how the water had tasted funny when it was coming out of the drinking fountains—which, to be honest, corio did agree with her ramblings—and the next day it was announced that brutus' father had paid for an entirely new purification and fountain system in the academy so his precious daughter didn't have to drink the disgusting water.
nonetheless, when the professor announced that they were to do a group project, coriolanus wanted to team up with one of his friends in the class, however, his wish was not answered when he heard he was paired up with brutus. he was hit with a gust of what he once knew to be the smell of champagne and strawberries.
"hello coriolanus," she stuck out her hand for a shake, the pleasantries that had been drilled into them before the war had not left the younger capitol citizens. the adults, however, were still haunted by the monstrosities they had committed during it, and sometimes struggled with keeping face.
"hello brutus," he grasped her hand in his, shaking it gently before letting it go and grabbing his pencil. something about her was fascinating yet slightly unnerving, whether it was the way her auburn curls fell softly about her shoulders or the fact that her left eye was a bright green while the right a muddy brown. the green seemed to see straight through him, see that he needed the others' emotions to influence him because he did not seem to feel anything other than possessiveness, anger, and a slight need for vengeance after the death of his parents. his father he barely knew, but his mother. . . he was angry at the world for the way it took her from him. . . both her and the unborn sister he was going to have. if it weren't for the districts, he wouldn't be an orphan.
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it had taken a while, a few months, to be a little more exact, for coriolanus to think of brutus as a friend. he found out why her name was brutus—her mother had wanted a boy, and was angry to find out that the child she bore was a girl—and why she stored the meat from the steak sandwiches they got at lunch—she wasn't the biggest fan of meat, and she had a pet dog at home that would be happy to eat it.
sometimes brutus was a little strange, but corio did not care for that as long as it did not affect his own image. sometimes she would invite him to her home—much larger than the apartment he shared with the grandma'am and tigris—to play with her dog, which was much larger than what he had imagined (he thought she had gotten a lap dog, which was very much not the case), and would sometimes even spend the night after he called the grandma'am back home to tell her where he was. after he had fallen asleep there a few times, on the ninth sleepover he had, he found out that brutus' mother had begun getting him his own clothing and even an armoire for the things she had bought. brutus's mother would even send him to school with a full belly of eggs, bacon, and a nice toast with some goat's cheese, and he was ever more thankful for her presence in his life.
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brutus had broken off their friendship.
years of it in the making and she had broken it off.
corio thought he wasn't a bad friend. in fact, he was the best person that anyone could have in their lives. sure, he used them for his own personal good, but they received some of it back. when he felt like being nice. however, when brutus came to him to break off the friendship, she had been crying for who knows how long before she approached him. the puffiness of her eyes and the ring of red that marred the once-white sclera told him so. "what is it, brutus?" he snapped. "your mother wants me to come over tonight," he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground.
"you're no longer invited," she replied, quiet sobs marring her speech.
"did your mother say so?"
"no," she shakes her head. the curls, once at her shoulders, now hung by her waist, and they flew softly around her. "i say so. you have gotten closer with my mother, and i see that you are now only using me to get closer to her. she has always wanted a son, and now that she has you, she has cast me aside. never come by again." she breathed in, but it was broken by a few unshed tears. "i'll leave your things in a box outside the gates. but after you get them, leave. never come back. go back to that shabby apartment of yours. never talk to my mother ever again. don't contact us any more. and stay away from me."
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thank you to @tinfairies for feeding into this illusion! love you will all my heart <33333
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milliesfishes · 1 month ago
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hii same anon again! feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this ofc - but a perfect lake day with coryo but then you can tell something’s off. he then finally tells you about how he was reassigned to district two and doesn’t have any choice but to go and you two are both so heartbroken. and then maybe having to actually say goodbye? :’) guess i want to cry lol
⋆౨ৎpeacekeeper coryo breaks up with you⋆౨ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow
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Coriolanus’ lips found your fingers clasped with his hand, and you smiled slow and soft like sunlight. His other arm was resting lazily over your hips, the weight a comforting thing as his chest supported your back. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.
Truthfully, you loved every allotted day off he spent with you. It was a treasure amidst a sea of mundane days filled with labor and exhaustion. He smoothed every rough spot for you, made every ordinary trouble melt away.
Turning in his arms, you let your cheek fall against his chest, the metal of his dog tags cool from your time in the lake. Many a time you had fallen asleep with the rectangles pressed to your skin and awoken with his blood type imprinted there.
He let you move against him, quiet and stoic as always. Today in particular he'd been reserved but you assumed it was stress, not minding the lack of talk. Only when you were settled did he adjust his arms, one large hand splaying over your bare back. You hadn’t bothered to redress, and nor did he.
It was funny- a month ago he would have had his clothes on immediately after drying off, wary of the surroundings of nature he was so unfamiliar with. Now he sat upright, not against the tree like anyone from town would have done, but it didn’t matter. As long as you fit between his arms nothing else mattered.
Picking at the blanket underneath, you murmured, “I hope it can always be like this.” A bird’s whistle carried from the trees, flung out into the expanse of the glassy lake. His fingers stilled where they had been roving up and down, causing you to look up at him, meet his stormy blue eyes.
Right now, they were filled with thunderclouds of oceanic magnitude, and you sat up straight, brow knitting. Was he upset? Worried about something? "Coryo?"
The lake lapped calmly at the pebbly shore, the opposite of the mass of dread circulating and hardening in your chest. It was a buildup; you knew it was. He kept your fingers laced with his when he murmured, "I'm being transferred."
It felt as though someone had shoved you off the edge of something dark and looming, and now your body was flailing helplessly, plummeting to the jagged rocks of the unknown. Hovering clouds darkened the spot of sunshine you'd been lying in, and goosebumps rippled over your arms.
"Transferred?" You could only manage the single word, trying to leave out the accompanying emotions. Your efforts were in vain.
He gave a single nod, and you let out a little breath, looking away. The only that could have shocked you more than meeting was him leaving you. He'd looked so out of place that first night at the Hob, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.
It was hardly the same man staring back at you now, the lines of his face stiffened.
You sat all the way up, moving closer to him, knees pushing his thighs further apart. He took your hips again, trying to get you to stay still, but you refused, determined as ever. Framing his face with your palms, you searched him desperately. "What do you mean by transferred?"
"I took the advancement test. I passed. Now they want to send me to Two."
Your poor heart began to ache all over again. Every word from his mouth was eating at it like sugar to a rotting tooth. "Two."
"Sweetheart." He gently held your wrists, pulling your hands away from his cheeks. The more you looked at him the more you hurt. But you'd never been able to tear yourself from him yet. Though your time with him had been brief, Coriolanus had quickly become your favorite person, the only one you wanted to be with. You wanted a sea of endless nights cuddled to his chest, or under his arm at the Hob. Gent's girl is what the other Peacekeepers called you, lifting their bottles and grinning.
Tears began to prick your eyes. "You never even told me you took the test."
"I didn't know they would ship me out," he said with an edge, swallowing. "I thought maybe I'd be promoted here and get to stay. But they want me somewhere else."
"You're leaving me." It felt so selfish to say it that way. The man you loved was escaping the mousetrap of District Twelve and you were condemning for it. In all honesty, this was a chance you knew you would have jumped at had it been you.
Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, and you suppressed a chill both from the temperature and the look on his face. He didn't reach for you, letting you have your space as you tried not to cry. It was only when the first crystal drop leaked from your eye that his hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest.
Your tears soaked his chest, and you took in sharp breaths, trying not to go hysterical. It was bad enough that he was comforting you when you were supposed to be excited for him.
All you could think of were the things you would miss. The barely-there lilt of his lips whenever you said something sweet or funny, The feel of his hands on you. Soft confessions he made when it was dark in your small home save for a candle, kissing your forehead when he left to get back in time for curfew. The way he kissed- like he'd been hungry his entire life and only you could satiate him.
A choked little sob bubbled up and darted past your lips when you realized exactly how alone you'd be when he was gone. Family long passed, being with him had been the closest you'd felt to home in a long while. Where do you go when your home is a million miles away?
To the bed he'd held you in, you gathered. To the places he used to be. It would be a measly substitute for what you really wanted.
"I'll write you," he promised, adjusting the daisy he'd plucked and put in your hair earlier. His body was growing taut, and you knew he was fighting internally as much as you were. "We'll...it'll be okay."
Maybe somehow you had always known he wouldn't be here forever. Given his origins somewhere that may as well have been universes away, you knew he wasn't destined for life in a place like this. With the simplicities you had learned to make enough.
You could almost see the path the future embroidered before you. Crinkled letters under your pillow because that was the closest you'd get to holding him again, hours emptied of his presence. It drained you like a rainy day, and you slid your arms around his torso. His chin dropped to your hair, one hand at your waist and the other fingering the strap of your damp crocheted undershirt.
A plea for him to stay nearly rose on your lips, and you lifted your head, wishing you were brave enough to say it. But you knew nothing could stop it now. The echoes of your desire were fading into the background as he breathed in through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto your head.
The way he held you spoke volumes, and you mentally penned it to remember for late. Your wet hair had been sticking to his chest like seaweed, and he brushed it behind your shoulder. "I...I'll miss you." Though his voice was steady, you could hear the cracks in the foundation. "I love you," he was really saying.
You allowed yourself one final sniffle before lifting your head, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to his. His warm fingers found the nape of your neck over your hair, just holding you there until you pulled back. "I'll miss you too," you breathed, twin tears trickling from your eyes.
Ever since you knew him, you had watched the mask he'd worn as a young man from the Capitol chink and crumble away. Perhaps he had realized he didn't need it here. Not where humanity was in its barest bones, the natural world a pure comfort. In a romantic way you knew it was you too. You gave him all you had in the way of love, unearthing the undeniable fact that he cared for you that way too.
Coriolanus' hands found your cheeks, and he kissed you once more in a way full of longing. He searched your eyes, letting his forehead lean against yours. In that moment he looked almost desperate, matching you. Without closing his eyes, his lips pressed to yours in the tiniest of pecks. "I love you."
Maybe that would keep you warm at night when he was nothing but memory.
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ashwinsher · 3 months ago
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Eat me
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vqmpyrecult · 5 months ago
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I have always found this shot to be one of my absolute favourites. Coriolanus has just had his first taste of blood, he comes back traumatised but can’t help but feel this overwhelming sensation of power. Power over another person, an innocent person. His father, Crassus Snow, a brutal man who fought against the rebels in honour of the capital, has begun to dig his claws into his son which is the beginning of Coriolanus questioning his morality…
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I could truly talk about how many stunning shots in this film hold so much symbolic significance and value to Coriolanus’ story and the impact and importance it has on every other aspect of this film forever 😩😩🫶🫶
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