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#yandere games x reader
screeching-bunny · 4 months
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Yandere! Game Show Host Hcs
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: I saw this request and was like this is such a cool request but what if we made him an evil game show host. Like one that would put contestants in deadly scenarios.
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🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host who kidnaps all of the contestants and forces them to play this twisted game that he created for money. Don’t worry though, he rigged the entire game to be in your favor. It was discreet enough for the viewers not to really care but apparent enough for you to notice the favoritism. Did you care? Hell no!! As long as you were getting paid you and survived this whole ordeal could give a rats ass about what happened next. Even when you do manage to get certain questions wrong, he will just brush it off and pretend that it was just a warm up question. The contestants are definitely seething whenever they see this happening.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is a psychopath by nature. In each round, he presents the contestants with morally ambiguous dilemmas, enticing them with promises of grand rewards while dangling the threat of dire consequences for failure. Whether it's forcing them to choose between betraying a fellow contestant or facing a treacherous obstacle, he revels in their anguish, relishing the psychological torment he inflicts.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is doing everything in his power to make sure that you win the game. He can’t have his poor baby feeling upset if they fail to win the grand prize. He would absolutely give out the most insane questions that practically no one knows the answer to. The punishment for getting a few questions wrong is mutilation of certain body parts and if you get too many questions wrong then you’ll end up being sent to your death. While everyone is basically being tortured in their punishments, he’d never allow that to happen to you. At most he’d probably just flick your forehead and call it a day. I imagine that most of the people watching the show are people who paid for the contestants to be kidnapped and be brought there against their wishes. Everyone who is put onto his show is a horrible person, including yourself, and have done something to be warranted to be there.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host bends all the rules of the game for you, providing subtle hints or covert assistance to ensure your safety. Although he has a strong desire to see others in pain and suffering, his love for you is stronger. At first justifies these actions as preserving the "entertainment value" of the show, but deep down, he's driven by an inexplicable desire to protect you.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host would baby you during your time there. He’d make a fuss whenever you tried to do anything remotely dangerous or touch some blood. I could totally see him using a baby voice to try to convince you to stop what you're doing. He has no shame, and everyone is looking at him with utter disbelief/confusion on their faces.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Oh No! Please don’t go over there! You might slip from all the blood on the ground! Come here let me carry you across.”
Viewers: “…”
The contestant with their leg cut off: “…”
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host thrives on the power he wields over his contestants, reveling in their suffering as they navigate his challenges. As the game progresses, his demeanor grows more twisted, enjoying the contestants' internal conflicts and emotional turmoil. He taunts them with mocking laughter, reveling in their discomfort and manipulating their decisions to heighten the drama. God forbid that you manage to develop a crush on someone while you are there. He’d absolutely lose it and do everything in his power to crush them. You best believe that he’s going to keep them alive for as long as possible and give them the worst punishments known to man.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host has cameras everywhere and when it's time for the contestants to rest for the night he’s going to be observing you. He’s a loser who doesn’t really know how to act around you without becoming a mess. In his spare time, he likes to just watch you through the cameras and imagine himself right next to you. He’s absolutely delulu about your feelings towards him and believes that you feel the same way. Even when you do manage to win this fucked up game, he’s not letting you go. There’s no way that he’s letting you leave after you managed to steal his heart. After this is all over, he’s taking you to his house and locking you there.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host holds pride in knowing how many people are at the mercy of his hand. Has a minor God complex and has this skewed mindset about how everyone else is beneath him besides you. Believes that you were made just for him and that you're his one true love. Would rather die than give you up or allow anyone to “take you away from him”. He’s like an annoying roach and almost impossible to get rid of. He’s making sure to stay with you for as long as possible.
Yandere! Game Show Host strides onto the stage with a wicked gaze, his piercing gaze fixed on the contestants. His voice, a chilling blend of charm and malice, booms through the speakers as he welcomes the participants with a mocking flourish. Thom who were strapped onto a table with heavy objects over their heads.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright contestant number one, what is the mass of the Sun divided by Planck's constant in nanometers.
Contestant One: “HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!?!?!”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Unfortunately, that's not the correct answer. You’ll now be facing the consequences.” In a matter of seconds, the heavy object comes flying down with alarming speed. Upon impact, it mercilessly crushes against their skull, unleashing an overwhelming and unimaginable force that distorts bone and flesh. Yandere! Game Show Host then makes his way towards you and begins to speak.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright, it's your turn now. No pressure, I know you’ll do great just take your time. Okay what’s 1 + 1?”
You: “2.”
Yandere! Game Show Host: "Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it."
Other Contestants: “What the hell!?!? How is this fair!?!!
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5K notes · View notes
targaryenluvs · 5 months
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DELICATE
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pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
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quin-ns · 5 months
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Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
Word count: 6.7k
Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory
Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will
A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3
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You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.
No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.
Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.
Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.
It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.
All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.
“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.
They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.
“Who?”
Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.
“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”
She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.
His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.
Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.
Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.
“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”
Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?
Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.
As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.
You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.
It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.
He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.
His heart skipped a beat.
“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.
His heart started again.
“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”
“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”
The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.
“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”
Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.
Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.
“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”
It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.
“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”
You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.
“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”
“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.
His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.
At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.
“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”
Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”
The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.
“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.
Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.
“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.
This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.
He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.
He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.
When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”
Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.
You knew about his friends?
“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.
You nodded and hummed.
“Well, what are your qualifications?”
“Excuse me?”
“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”
“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”
Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?
“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”
“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”
“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.
None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.
He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.
Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.
Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.
Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.
“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.
Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.
“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”
Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”
Keeping up appearances.
“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.
“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.
Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”
Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.
All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.
Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”
“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”
With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.
“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”
Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.
“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.
You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.
“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.
Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.
“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.
Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.
He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—
Suddenly, your watch began to beep.
“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.
Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.
He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.
The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.
The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.
While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.
There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.
Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.
Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.
He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.
With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.
Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.
“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.
Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.
He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.
When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.
Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.
You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.
“How do you think you did?”
Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”
“Not perfect, but I passed.”
Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.
“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.
“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.
“And did you?”
She gave Sejanus a look.
“Yes, of course.”
The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.
One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.
Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.
Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.
The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.
You pressed your lips together before speaking.
“Do you think you did alright?”
The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.
“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”
You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”
“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.
The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.
“Maybe you can.”
The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.
Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.
“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”
“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”
“That’s not something I need right now.”
“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.
“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.
More time passed. The door opened again.
“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”
As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.
Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.
“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.
Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.
“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.
“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.
The comment made him falter.
“Best in the class,” he divulged.
You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”
The door opened.
“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”
“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.
“Good luck.”
Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.
Or, how well he’d done for you.
Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.
“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.
“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”
“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”
Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.
Or, he could always lie.
“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”
“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”
“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“
“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.
He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.
A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.
“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”
You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.
“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”
The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.
Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.
You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.
“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”
The corners of his lips twitched down.
“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”
You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.
“I think we’re done.”
Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”
The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.
Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.
Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.
It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?
“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”
You blinked. You didn’t believe him.
For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.
“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.
Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.
The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.
“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”
Your brows arched up, questioning him.
“That was supposed to be an apology?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”
“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”
Coriolanus frowned.
“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”
You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.
That frustrated him further.
In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.
“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.
Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.
“Get your hands off me.”
“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”
You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.
“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”
He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.
If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.
He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.
Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.
Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.
Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.
He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.
“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”
“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.
“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”
Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.
“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.
“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.
“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”
“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”
Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.
Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.
It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.
In this case, what he’d done.
Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.
Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.
What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.
The power stirred something within him.
One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?
Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?
He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.
“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”
He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.
Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.
“Why are you doing this?”
He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.
Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.
He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.
“I don’t know.”
To him, it was the truth.
The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.
“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”
You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.
His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.
Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.
He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?
He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.
He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.
Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.
Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.
Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.
A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.
Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.
“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”
He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.
A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.
He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.
Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.
You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.
Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.
You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.
Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.
“Forgive me,” he requested softly.
You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.
He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?
You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.
You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.
His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.
You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.
“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”
“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.
Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.
Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.
“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.
A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.
“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.
You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.
Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.
You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.
If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.
“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”
At that moment, it was true.
Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.
Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.
“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”
As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.
You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.
Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.
There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.
“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.
It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.
“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.
“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”
His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.
“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”
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iwachu · 11 months
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Work night - YBG comic
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Heyyy hi there, long time no see haha (geez I've been inactive for a long time sorry ;;;;)
Apparently I hadn't adapted very well to tumblr and I left it for a while to do other things, but when I wanted to make this comic I was looking for a good medium to publish it and that the quality wouldn't be affected. It was then that I remembered that I had a Tumblr account and well---- when I logged in I was surprised by the amount of reactions that my first and only publication had. I literally almost fell off my chair haha, I can't believe I had so much support. Seriously thank you so much to the people who liked my art and decided to follow me ;;;;A;;;. Sorry to leave you with a blog full of cobwebs.😔 But well, here I come back to show one of my comics of this beloved golf ball head.💙 I might use this tumblr to upload only comics or something like that, it will depend if people are still looking for more of this interesting character hehe or who knows. Anyway I hope you like it and enjoy the comic ✨
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flokali · 4 months
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Argenti who believes you (player) are Idrila… the being who’d saved him countless of times, the one who protects him in times of peril. The reason he only meets you in near death situation is due to how the universe works, determined to only let you meet those who adore you once they’re at their weakest and need your help to return to their true form. Every time a new soul comes to you, arriving at the Express’ doors, you welcome them and work tirelessly to give them strength unattainable through other means.
Albeit not knowing how you truly look like, he can see your silhouette in his mind’s eye. He knows the broad brush strokes that compose your face, even your eye color and hair texture immortalized in his memory. He knows deep down that there will never be any being that can rival the beauty of his Lord.
Argenti, who once finally home with you, can finally rest easy knowing that you are with him – watching over him and giving him strength in your own way. However, he still cannot touch you, he hasn’t been able to clearly see your face yet. His journey isn’t done, now he must find a way to bring you to him so he can spread the word of your arrival and power while adoring you in his arms.
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
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overprotective, lovesick, deranged.
(yandere coriolanus x reader)
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summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.
if i can't have you, no one can.
trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.
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"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.
Heads rolling for the one I adore
This may become a little brutal if I'm honest
But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"
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overprotective.
coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.
lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.
when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.
valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.
coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.
you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.
when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.
"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."
you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.
you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.
"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."
and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.
lovesick.
with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.
it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.
maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.
it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?
well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.
why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?
he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.
for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?
coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.
once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.
"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.
"yes?"
"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.
but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you
"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."
he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.
you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.
it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.
but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.
"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"
"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.
your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.
"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.
"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.
"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"
your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.
"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.
"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.
you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.
dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.
"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"
you shook your head, panic taking over you.
"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.
your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.
"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."
you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.
"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.
you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.
you were doomed.
deranged.
his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.
you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.
you still loved him after all, who would know?
not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.
"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.
"i do."
"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.
"i do."
you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.
that's what love is about.
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missglaskin · 5 months
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Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons
AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers
Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon
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Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers
You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.
Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.
Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 
They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.
Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.
As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 
Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.
While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.
Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.
Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.
That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.
They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.
Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.
Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.
Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.
Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.
Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 
The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 
A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.
Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.
A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.
Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.
Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 
As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.
It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 
The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 
Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.
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floatyflowers · 24 days
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Dark Male! Daenerys Targaryen x Baratheon Reader Part Two
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Your marriage to the new king of the seven kingdoms came as a surprise to everyone.
Because Daeron is simply, marrying you, a Baratheon who descended from the house who ended the Targaryens Reign.
But with you, he will restore the Targaryen house and glory.
At first, you were frightened by him, but when he introduced you to his dragons, you fell in love with them, and ended up being called the mother of dragons.
Daeron decided to use your love for the beasts and make a cheeky deal with you
"If you call me Lord Husband, I will take you every morning riding"
And that is exactly what you did.
Through the years, you ended up giving birth to three daughters whom your husband adores dearly.
The oldest is Visenya, the middle is Rhaenyra and the youngest is Rhaella.
And no one dares to speak about you not providing the releam with male heirs.
And who dares to do so is considered a traitor who is trying to usurp his oldest daughter's right to the throne.
Your uncle Tyrion is good at snitching on such traitors.
Even if Daeron is possessive and has hints of madness in him, it's better to be his wife then be a captive.
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talkbycolor · 5 months
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john doe game headcanons . . . ↷
A/N; i'm actually really sensitive about john doe JHSAJHSAJAS
Pairing; "John Doe" x GN!Reader
CW; Just doe being the weirdo we love / PISSPISSPISS / implied cannibalism? not so much tho / ew stinky gay / sex with a hairball
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john doe as a partner.
His love for you is pure, but the lack of understanding in humans makes it complicated, he doesn't know how to express it in a "correct" way.
He has little interest in humans but all his interest in You, do you want to learn to play an instrument? Doe too, he would learn to use a phone to call you although it would be useless since in the end he would follow you to work, he can't stand having you away for even a second!
He tried to eat you (unfortunately not in a sexual way), he wanted to bite, pull your teeth, and tear them out of your cheeks to eat them, you had to use a lot of patience to explain to him that this was painful and you could die
He likes your fluids, your sweat smells so good, it tastes great, your tears, he knows that tears mean something is wrong but he can't help but want to lick them, at least he's like a puppy in that way and that will make you laugh, Doe wants to help! your urine, he will drink it all without a problem, if you are both having a loving session in bed and you want to go to the bathroom, forget it, he will open your legs and help empty your bladder, he loved being your personal toilet, your blood is the sweetest of his paradise, be careful with accidental cuts or his mouth will stick like a leech to your wound
Ideas for romantic activities will probably come from television, be careful what he watches
At this point, Doe lives by and for you, he will adapt to your lifestyle and tastes, although he cannot understand most of them, the idea of "breaking up" does not exist in his head, you can walk away, even stop talking to him and he will continue behind you
But he has feelings, why don't you talk to him anymore? Did he do something wrong? He no longer leaves rats in the kitchen, he no longer tries to make You dinners with raw meat, is that the way he looks? Tell him your standards! Doe will change everything for you, even reality
He can definitely purr, he's more like an old, ugly, stray cat that will rest on your lap, but he's YOUR, old, ugly, stray cat.
He doesn't know how to give compliments, it's more like observations or comments about how you make him feel "You're wearing a big hat!" "A red dress!", "I'm so happy to see you!" but it's adorable that he reminds you that you are his whole life…somehow
It's like having a child at home, in the strangest way possible, he will try to make horrible crafts for you and help with housework without much success.
If you demand sex, Doe would probably do his best to make a nice cock, just for you, or a pussy depending on what you like, he will be submissive but if you ask him to take control he will try
And that will probably be the messiest and hardest sex you've ever had in your life, Doe always adores you like it's your last day on earth so in a sexual sphere it would be ten times worse
If you put on a movie at night, he will fall asleep halfway through, no exceptions, the sound of the television and your smell will be enough
Doe would definitely kill for you, he doesn't understand jokes so please don't say "Ugh I hate that guy, I hope he's dead" because yes, the guy will be dead.
In case You doesn't like the smelly boy, Doe will try to take showers regularly, at least to not smell like something out of the sewer, the pain doesn't matter if it's about you
Loves physical contact and quality time
Surprisingly, Doe has a driver's license, he would be your personal chauffeur, you may think it's an adorable gesture but he just wants to be sure where you are at every hour of the day… and help, of course.
Aside from adoring you, Doe actually has his own tastes and hobbies, he HAS feelings! He has tried knitting since the technology is very confusing, he really is like an old man
He tries to have a good relationship with your friends and family, if you have a big family he will probably feel overwhelmed but that doesn't mean he will stop trying to show that he loves you and wants to be with you.
Your younger nephews love it, they think of Doe as a weird-looking uncle who lets them play with his hair
Doe shirt always has hearts when he looks at You.
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after-witch · 5 months
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The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]
Title: The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]
Synopsis: You're a District 2 school graduate who comes to the Capitol with her father before the 11th Hunger Games. You don't expect to meet anyone kind, especially not someone named Coriolanus Snow who offers you his arm, his smile, and treats in secret. 
Word Count: 5270
notes: yandere, abusive relationship, non-graphic descriptions of torture and death (not against reader); uses a mixture of book and movie canon
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The Capitol was not as dazzling as your father described it but then, he had seen it before the war. Though perhaps it was your own bitterness that made you ignore the signs of returning prosperity that sets it above everywhere else.
The repaired elaborate buildings, the fresh pungent smell of plaster and paint. The cars pumping exhaust fumes into the air. The low rumble of garbage trucks that pick up bright green garbage cans, some of which are actually teeming with plastic trash bags. Such waste was unheard of, even in the oh-so-loyal District 2, where only the lowest of the low find themselves starving.
Although not-starving didn’t mean that everything was plentiful. 
You, though, were lucky enough to avoid the lima bean heavy diet that some of your classmates (now former--graduation was months ago) lived on. Or were you? The meat that graced your family’s dinner table, the pats of butter on toast, were all courtesy of your father’s  immense talent in building creative weapons that allowed the Capitol to stamp out every last bit of rebellion in the Districts. That allowed them to regain control. That allowed them to create the Hunger Games.
Which is why you were in the Capitol now. Oh, not to participate in them. Your father’s status in District 2 had seen to that; it would be a scandal if the name of his beloved daughter were to ever be pulled. 
You were there because your father had been given a lucrative contract, one that was sure to cement your family’s wealth for generations: a contract to build high-tech weapons for the Hunger Games themselves. 
They would still be killing. But on a much smaller scale, you supposed, than the weapons your father designed during the war. 
Still. Blood was blood. And if it had to be spilled, well, there was nothing you could do about it except hope they died quickly. Especially the ones from District 2.
Last year’s Games’ had been awful enough. Your family had watched the Games on a modest television set in the privacy of your living room, sent courtesy of the Capitol. 
You wondered if you would ever get the sight of Marcus’ battered, bloated face from your mind; if you would ever unhear the way his body thumped to the ground when that girl had killed him, out of mercy. If you would ever stop imagining what it must have felt like in those last moments.
But it wasn’t all horror. You’d liked Lucy Gray well enough, even though she was from 12. She had a wild way of dressing and the singing--it was practically theatrical, compared to what you’d heard about the previous games. 
Maybe that was why your father got this contract: theatrics. Maybe the games would be more dramatic from now on. Maybe they wanted tributes like Lucy Gray, who sang and spit and poisoned her way to Victory. It was strange, really, that there’d been hardly any talk of her since her win. 
“Father?” You asked, quietly as you could. 
Both of you were standing in the foyer of the grand university in the Capitol. The outside was still a little ravaged, but inside, it was perfectly lovely. Walls lined with books--perhaps some of them were fake--and marble floors and marble busts dotting the sight lines.
“Mm?” He replied, eyes scanning over his clipboard. He flips it, here and there.
“I was just thinking. About last year’s games. About Lucy Gray, and how the Games--”
Your father rounded on you, eyes suddenly serious and blazing.
“Quiet. Weren’t you paying attention on the way here?” Admittedly, you were not. You’d been daydreaming about what you might do now that you were done with school. There was no university in District 2, and your father hadn’t even mentioned a job. “You’re not supposed to mention--”
“Not supposed to mention whom? Ah, ah, ah. Lucy Gray Baird?” called a voice, almost in sing-song.
Your father stood up stiff, and the life seemed to drain from his face.
Both of you look towards the sound of the voice, and now it’s your turn to stiffen. The voice came from a woman standing in the doorway of the very office that your father was waiting to enter. She was wearing an elaborate jacket made of what looked like rainbow snake scales. Her hair was gray and curly. She had, you realized, two different colored eyes. 
Your father swallowed, and you could see the apple of it bob up and down. It made you think, abruptly, of suckling pigs. 
“Dr. Gaul,” he said, in a voice far too tight to be relaxed. “I apologize for my daughter’s insubordination, I assure you, she meant no--”
Dr. Gaul waved her hands at him and approached you. 
“Did you like last year’s games?” She didn’t look angry. No, she looked delighted.
“I…” It was your turn to swallow, your turn to feel that tightness. “It-it was the first time I’ve watched them, ma’am.” You want to ask this woman: do you think I liked watching someone from my District 2 so horribly? Or any District, really? Did I like it? 
Her smile grew wider. 
“I’m glad. You’ll be watching them every year from now on, I hope. We have big plans.” Her eyebrows raised high. “Big changes. Thanks to men like your father.” She glanced at him and you saw disdain flicker across her gaze. 
And then another door opened, and you heard the sound of polished shoes on the marble floor. Dr. Gaul’s attention dropped away from you like you were nothing at all. She turned to meet the sound of these footsteps, and you did too.
It was a young man. Probably your age, you thought, with light blonde hair and eyes that your mother would have described as “baby blue.” He didn’t look at you, or your father. But that was nothing new. You’d only been in the Capitol for 2 days, and you’d already gotten used to being treated as lesser than. Though, at least, you were not so far down on the food chain that you lost your tongue. 
“Ah, my protege,” said Dr. Gaul, giving the young man a grin. The smile on her face almost looked warm, which was somehow far more terrifying than her manic smile from earlier. “Ever the earnest student. Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the day off, Mr. Snow?”
The young man, this “Snow,” chuckled and lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t stay away once I heard you were discussing some of the new prototypes for this year’s games.” 
He finally looked at your father, and then at you. But only briefly.
“Can I assume that this is…?”
Dr. Gaul nodded.
“Yes. My little designer from District 2. And his daughter.” Her voice dropped a few octaves when she referred to you. She probably didn’t want you here, you thought. You weren’t supposed to come, but your father had begged the Capitol for a pass; it would probably be your only chance to see it, he said, so you may as well take advantage of the chance.
Snow nodded to your father. It was a surprising gesture, almost respectful. But cold, too, like it was done from necessity rather than anything else. 
Your father stammered a bit and nodded back, and you felt shame begin to creep into your bones. It wasn’t fair, to be lesser-than. But weren’t others lesser-than you in your own District, where you ate better food and never worried that your name would get picked, that your blood would be spilled?
Everyone 
But when Snow turned to you, he smiled. It gave him dimples. 
It was the first kind smile anyone in the Capitol gave you. 
“My name is Coriolanus Snow. I doubt you’ve heard of me, but if Dr. Gaul’s teachings have anything to say about it, perhaps one day you’ll know me as a Gamemaker.” 
You didn’t know what to say. Congratulations, one day you’ll be coordinating Games that kill people? Instead,  you gave your name, voice squeakier than you meant it. But it was fitting, you supposed. Here, you were a mouse, hoping you would get a bite of cheese and make it home unpoisoned. 
Dr. Gaul’s face seemed to react slowly, as if she couldn’t decide what she thought about his words or your interaction, but a small smile grew on it, eventually. “I do have high hopes for you, Mr. Snow. Now, shall we?”
She gestured for your father to follow, face once again impassive with a sprinkle of disdain, as she led the two of them into her office.
Snow gave you a smile and a nod before he left.
You waved, stupidly.
Your father didn’t even look back.
--
I’m dead. I’m dead. I might as well be dead.
Your heartbeat kept time with your racing thoughts as you went up and down corridors, begging your shoes to be silent, wishing your breath would catch and stop coming out in terrible pants.
You were lost. You weren’t where you were supposed to be. If someone found you, if the wrong person found you, they would think you were running, trying to get lost in the Capitol; they’d think  you were a rebel. They’d shoot you.
Just when you thought you might collapse and die from your own nervous exhaustion, you heard the most wonderful sound in the world.
Your name.
It was only the moment after that you realized it didn’t come from your father’s mouth, but the lips of--what his name--Coriolanus Snow. The young man who was a Gamemaker-in-training, or so your father said. But that’s all he would say. He kept tight about anything that went on behind closed doors. 
But this Coriolanus Snow smiled at you, and didn’t look at you like you were some kind of insect he might want to pin on a board, and so when you whirled around to look at him you were smiling.
Ah--for a moment. For just a moment, you saw his muscles tense. You saw the expression on his face falter in worry. Like he thought he was about to miss a step on a staircase, and corrected himself; like he thought you were a wolf and you were only somebody’s dog, off their leash. 
But it wasn’t too surprising. You knew most people in the Capitol thought anyone from the Districts wanted to rip out their throats. 
Well, the worry was mutual. Except in your case, you were forced to walk around with the living proof of that worry--all those “Avoxes,” they called them. Without tongues, without freedom. 
But you swallow all that. Because he smiled at you. Because maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend. Especially right now.
“I’m--I’m lost,” you tell him, giving a shaky smile. “I was waiting for my father, but you see, I got to thinking, and I started to wander around and now I’m… well. I don’t know where I am, actually.”
His smile wasn’t very deep, was it? It was like the gloss of paint on the outside of the Capitol buildings. Pretty to look at, but there must be more underneath.
You expected him to lead you right back to where you’re supposed to be.
Instead, he asked you something.
“What were you thinking about?
You couldn’t tell him. Could you? But something about 
“About… the Games.”
You don’t tell him that you were thinking about Lucy Gray and all those snakes, and the way that Dr. Gaul’s outfit that first day made you think of them. Because your father had slapped you across the face when you got back to your lodgings that night, and told you to never, ever bring up Lucy Gray Baird or the 10th Games unless you were directly asked. And you would probably never be asked. 
Coriolanus gave a little snort through his nose. You liked it. It was nice to know that even Capitol people could seem a little dorky.
“They aren’t for another 3 months. Are you that eager to see them?”
You didn’t know what expression you made, exactly. It was so instinctive and fast that you didn’t have time to control it. 
You only knew that it made him shake his head and offer you a sympathetic look.  
“I apologize. That was rude, wasn’t it?” 
And then he did a strange thing.
He offered you his arm. 
Like you were Capitol, like you were a real person, and not some visiting District wench walking on the coattails of her arms-dealing father. 
“Let me walk you back to the waiting area.”
And the stranger thing?
You took it.
--
You and your father were quickly moved into a small apartment within the university, once it became clear that he would be staying in the Capitol through the duration of the Games. It was best, he said, because ordinary people in the Capitol didn’t really want to see new faces from the Districts mingling around unless their tongue had been cut out first. It made them nervous. The rebel bombings, and all that.
You didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to be flanked by Peacekeepers on the streets. 
And, well.
You got to see Coriolanus more often. Sometimes he greeted you, sometimes he didn’t. He did it less often when Dr. Gaul was there,  unless she was talking to your father and it gave him an opportunity.
He asked you things, too, when he caught you walking back to your father’s little apartment. Like what you did back home. What you liked to do. Whether you went to school, and what you planned to do now that you have graduated. 
This morning, he caught you drawing while you waited in a chair outside Dr. Gaul’s office. Sometimes you waited there--you would admit to no one that it was to catch a glimpse of the kindest person you’d met in the Capitol--and other times you stayed in your temporary home.
“What are you drawing?” He asked. But he had a way of speaking that you’d quickly clocked into. He can make a demand sound like a polite little question. Oh, he wasn’t mean about it, but it reminded you of the way your father talked to his underlings back in District 2. On his home turf, he was far smoother than he was here, where his voice stammered and sweat beaded on his neck.
So you handed it over, even though, to your greatest embarrassment, you’d drawn… him.
“Why me?” He had a smile on his lips. His smiles were nice. Kind. The kindest you’d seen since you came here. But they always felt like that fresh coat of paint; like you didn’t know what he really meant by them, and that was how he liked it. 
“You’re… important,” is all you could come up with. You felt small, then. He would dismiss and probably never want to talk to you again. What a stupid answer from a stupid girl. 
But he just smiled. It was like paint peeling a little.  You could see underneath that he liked what you said, although you weren’t exactly sure why. And his expression tightened up so quickly, protecting what you’d seen, that you weren’t entirely sure if it was real or not. 
“I’m just a humble student at this university. Not so important. Not yet.”
--
You were really going to die, now. This wasn’t some panicked imagination gone wrong, some flight of fancy that took a wrong turn.
A pair of stony-faced Peacekeepers had walked up to where you sat in the waiting area near Dr. Gaul’s office and ordered you to come with them.
You asked to talk to your father. They said no. You asked where you were going. They yanked you up. 
And now they were leading you down hallways that you’d never seen before, where there weren’t even Avoxes roaming the halls with brooms and dustpans. 
They didn’t even answer, just spun around and walked back the way they came. You pushed the door open reluctantly--what the hell was going to be on the other side?--and it was--it was--
It was Coriolanus. Standing there in a nice suit, eyes downcast on a book. Until the door creaked and he looked up.
“What--why did you bring me here? Did I do something wrong?” The thought went through you, that perhaps this had all been a test, to see if you were loyal to the Capitol and he’d found you wanting.
“No,” he said, simply enough. He set the book down and gestured for you to step inside. You did, because what else were you going to do, in some strange room in a Capitol University where you’d been forcibly brought by Peacekeepers.
Snow studied your face. Your eyes darted around, from him, to the room, to the door. 
“I wanted to see you,” he said, a little softer. “In private.” 
“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But… why?”
He smiled. “Come now, you’re a smart girl, even if you aren’t in university.” 
You really didn’t know. Not at first. But then you watched the way his expression softened, and you remembered it, or glimpses of it, that he’d given you before. When he complimented your drawing. When he said your name. When he escorted you back from the maze of hallways. And his smiles, all his smiles, although you were never sure how much they meant coming from home. 
He took a step closer. You didn’t dare step back. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back, but it didn’t matter, either way.
He pressed his lips to yours and took your first kiss, in a secluded little study in the heart of the Capitol University. 
--
Your days became routine, although the routine was strictly forbidden and could have probably gotten you executed or at best, gotten you a one-way ticket to a tasteless existence.
You wake up. You stay in your apartment.  You wait for the Peacekeepers. You get summoned here and there, always private rooms, secret rooms, rooms out of the way. You meet Snow--Coriolanus, he said, call him that--and you talk (well, mostly him) and kiss and sometimes a little bit more. He gives you gifts. Trinkets, necklaces that you can only wear under your shirt. Food, flaky pastries made with mountains of sugar, sandwiches made with cream and cucumber. 
But how much longer could it go on? The Games were going to start soon. As soon as they were over, you were going back to your District. There would be no more meetings, no more kisses. No more wondering how far he wanted to go or why he liked you or even if he even liked you as anything more than someone to keep him busy. 
You didn’t dare talk about the Games, but you did talk about this. In the kindest way you knew how for such a sensitive subject. 
“I’ll miss you,” you told Coriolanus after one meeting, when you’re both sitting on a sofa and he’s got your fingers tightly wound in his. He squeezed them tight.
“Miss me?” 
“After the Games,” you clarified. “We’re being sent home right after.”
He squeezed your fingers until it hurt a little. Then he looked up at you. To see if you would say something? Or did he not know how strong he was?
“Oh, that. I can arrange for you to stay.”
Your chest began to feel sick.
“Stay? In the Capitol?” You were torn about Coriolanus, but you didn’t want to stay here. You couldn’t. 
“Yes,” he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world. “You wouldn’t be the first person from the District granted such an extreme privilege. I’m sure I could--”
“But I don’t know if I want to stay.” 
His gaze narrowed and you felt your stomach clench. He looked at the necklace you’d pulled out as soon as the door was shut, at your lips where a dollop of strawberry cream still rested. 
“I treat you so well, and you don’t know if you want to stay with me?”
His voice was calm, and that scared you. It would have been better if he flew off the handle.
Instead, he simply stood up and gently sent you out the door, and called the Peacekeepers to bring you back to your apartment.
--
Every night for the last week, you have cried yourself to sleep. Because every day for the last week, Coriolanus Snow has not sent for you. Not even once.
What if he told someone? What if you got sent back early, and your father was shamed? What if they broke his contract? Or--worse, worse, worse. There were so many worse things than merely being sent back to District 2.
And then he sent for you, and it was the longest walk of your life, though it was no farther than any of the times you’ve been escorted to your secret meetings.
This time, when you pushed open the door, Coriolanus was not alone. 
There was an Avox in the room. 
It was someone from District 2.
You didn’t know her. Not personally. But you saw her, before. She worked in one of the munitions factories and you watched her walk to work from your classroom window sometimes. Then she stopped showing up, and you thought perhaps she got married. 
That delusion was shattered the moment you saw her, eyes downcast to the floor, wearing a simple gray tunic. 
It’s not until Coriolanus tells you to hurry up and come in that you’re able to move. Even then, you weren’t sure how your body did it; how your arms managed to gain the mobility to shut the door, to twist the lock; how your legs moved, one foot in front of the other, until you were standing stiffly in front of him.
The Avox--you wish you knew her name, but she couldn’t give it to you now, even if you asked--moved seamlessly to a table set up nearby. There was tea and sweets. The sort of thing that you and Coriolanus had been enjoying together for the past few weeks. The sort of thing that you were sure would sit sour in your stomach, now. 
The cup shook in your hands when she handed it to you, and your tears dripped right into the tea.
Coriolanus glanced at the Avox and waved his hand. She left obediently. She would never tell the secret she witnessed in his room, that much was certain.
And then he looked back at you.
“Don’t cry,” he said. Soft but firm. A command, not a coo. “You shouldn’t cry here, in the Capitol. You should be grateful to be here. You should be grateful that I’ve arranged all this for you.”
“I am,” you whispered. 
“Then show me that you are.”
And you did. 
You said what he wanted and looked to him to show you how he wanted you to act, and did just that. You didn’t argue, even to lightly banter. You kissed him and nodded along when he told you about how things would be after the Games, when he had arranged for you to stay.
All you had to do was keep him happy until the Games were over, and then you could go home. 
Bitterly, all of this made you realize just how much of your father is in you; he knew how to appease the Capitol. You could do the same with Coriolanus Snow. At least until the Games were over. Just keep him happy until the Games were done and the blood was spilled, and you would go home. 
They wouldn’t let him keep you here after the games. You were sure of that. You’d overheard some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants murmuring how glad they would be to send the District profiteers like your father home once the Games were over. And you? You’re just his useless daughter, an appendage he brought like an unwelcome suitcase. Why would you be allowed to stay?
--
The Games were over. The winner was from District 1. 
You were going home any day now. Just as soon as your father finished tinkering with the designs, gave his notes on improvements that might be made for next year.
The thought gave you a delightful bounce in your step. It was like having a pat of sweet butter in your shoe on a day when you needed good luck-- District 2 superstition, although the strict rationing meant most people didn’t have even a pat to slip into their shoes anymore.
The sweetness didn’t even disappear when the Peacekeepers showed up to bring you to Snow. It was going to be a bittersweet farewell, you were sure. He might be angry. But you would kiss him and tell him that there was nothing he could do, and how sorry you were not to be able to stay, but that was how things had to be.
Except they didn’t bring you down a maze of corridors that led to a secluded room.
They brought you right into Dr. Gaul’s office.
Breakfast threatened to evacuate your stomach with every step. Not just because of nerves, but because of what you saw. Rows of experiments in glass tubes; some of them move. You walk by a room with a half-open door that showed someone strapped to a gurney, face contorted in a silent scream as they fought against restraints. You almost did lose breakfast, then.
But somehow you made it to the desk of Dr. Gaul without a dribble of vomit to show for it.
The Peacekeepers left with no fanfare and you stood there, ramrod straight. Did she know? Was she going to tell you that you were going to be strapped to one of those gurneys, now?
“I’m keenly aware,” she said, keeping her hands primly folded, “on how much you’ve enthralled my star pupil.”
Toast. That’s what will come up first, you thought . The toast.
“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.” Your voice was so thin and tinny that you didn’t even believe yourself.
And then the prim facade cracked, and Dr. Gaul threw her head back and grinned.
“You really think I don’t know everything that goes on within these walls?  I know every time one of my lab assistants runs into the bathroom to throw up after a particularly nasty experiment. I know every time one of our university professors sneaks into a closet to down a vial of morphling with a student. And I certainly know when my newest protege is having an adorable little District girl brought to him for… canoodling.”
You weren’t even embarrassed. No.  You just felt terrified to the bone. You only hoped that you’d be killed, shot against a wall, instead of made into an Avox. Let there be some mercy in this world. 
”He’s asked to keep you, you know.” Her voice was low, almost a drawl. She tapped her fingers on her desk rhythmically.
“My Coriolanus Snow wants a bird of his own.” Her smile turned darker. “Not a songbird, though. Oh, no. I think he’s had enough of those.”
Her gaze bored into yours, each color magnified by her intense expression. “I think if I let him have his pretty caged bird, he’ll be happy. He’s more productive if he’s happy.” She smiled. “I like productivity. It keeps the Games more interesting.”
She looked you over one more time, and then waved you away.
“I’ve granted his request. You’ll be staying here indefinitely, courtesy of one Mr. Snow. Your father has already been told.” 
You were wrong.
It was not the toast that came up first, but the sweet butter you’d patted on top.
--
You still had your tongue, but you felt as though it was useless, stuck to the roof of your mouth, as Coriolanus fussed over your outfit. Or rather, as he directed an Avox to fuss over it for you. He could afford his own personal servant, now, he told you. He’d almost flinched after he said now, and you didn’t dare press him on it. Had he not been able to afford one before?
“We can’t walk arm-in-arm in public,” he said, walking around you, making sure the outfit was just-right. “But you can stand by me if I stop and direct you forward.” He reached over and fixed one of your buttons. “Don’t speak to anyone unless I’ve told you to, or they speak to you first. Always address someone older as ‘sir,’ or ‘ma’am.” He pointed at your hair, and the Avox began to fuss with it, eventually covering it in a colorful wrap that Coriolanus said was popular right now. “Address someone our age by the last name and Mr. or Ms.”
When he was satisfied with your appearance, he sent the Avox away. You liked it better that way, it was one last reminder of the horrors in the Capitol, even for someone “privileged” like you.  You’d only been without your father for 3 days, but you felt like your nerves were continually on fire. You wanted to go home. You wanted your family. You wanted out of this place.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
For now, you were still living in the small university apartment the Capitol had given your father. Coriolanus insisted on it, until he could figure out how to move you into his own sprawling apartment that he shared with his cousin, Tigris (who, at least, genuinely sounded lovely) and his grandmother, Grandma’am. She was the sticking point, or so you were told, with a thin smile. She hated Districts, and she ought to, he said. They killed her son. His father. 
She would hate you, too. Even if Coriolanus wanted you enough to make you stay with him; wanted you enough to keep you. But for how long? And would he change his mind, if you couldn’t fit in? 
He said your name, and you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. He held you by your shoulders. Gently. Like one would an unruly child that hadn’t yet learned that there were such things as salad forks and dinner forks, as polite conversation and etiquette. 
You got the feeling you wouldn’t have long to learn all of those things and more, to make him happy.
“Remember,” he said. “You’re District. You’re here because the Capitol has recognized that your loyalty can benefit us in some way. Be grateful.”
“I am,” you said, reflectively.
“Be happy..”
“I am,” you said again, your chest hitching.
He smiled at you. Was it real or not real? 
You smiled back, regardless. And he liked that, evidently, because he leaned forward and kissed you. Then he scrutinized your face and wiped at your lips with his thumb--the kiss had smeared your lipstick. 
“Good.” 
He gestured towards the open doorway. This time, he didn’t take your arm. There would be too many people lingering in the university hallways, all making their way to the soiree held to celebrate the end of this year’s Games and discuss what improvements might be made for the next year. 
You dutifully walked behind him, just like he said. And you would do exactly what he said in all respects. You would stay quiet unless you were spoken to, you would certainly never bring up anything confrontational or controversial, and you would make a good impression. You would be a loyal, grateful District citizen who was given the opportunity of a lifetime thanks to the graciousness of Coriolanus Snow. 
Of course you would. 
Your life depended on it. 
1K notes · View notes
screeching-bunny · 3 months
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could do the yandre!game show host with a himbo/bimbo reader
Yandere! Game Show Host x Bimbo/Himbo Reader Asks 1
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Yandere! Game Show Host would absolutely adore you. He absolutely enjoys how there's absolutely not a single thought behind your eyes. He could literally be nonchalantly pulling up your clothes and you would be too dumb or preoccupied to notice him doing it. Would definitely make you wear provocative clothes all under the pretense of how it would be good for the viewer ratings and that this is just the policy of the company. Now get your ass in those tight little outfits before he explodes due to anticipation.
Yandere! Game Show Host likes how you are basically almost always dolled and glammed up no matter the time of day. He’d definitely feed into your shopaholic habits if you had any and would only allow you to get the skimpiest of clothes. There is probably a one hundred percent chance of you getting every single question wrong on the quizzes so he has to alter your answers for you.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Okay now sweetie, what does blue and red make?”
You: “Uhhhhhh orange?”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “..... what's that you say? Purple? Why, that’s correct!!!”
You: “No I said–”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Yep and I heard you say purple!!!!”
Other Contestants: Side-eying him
Viewers: *Too stunned to speak*
Yandere! Game Show Host is shoving his tongue down your throat the fastest chance he gets. Out of all of the yanderes he is definitely the most horniest. If you ever tell him that you want to pay him back for all he’s done for you, he’s immediately whipping his cock out, no questions asked. Just put those glossy lips right on there and all of your debt is immediately forgiven. He definitely makes sure to emphasize how sexually frustrated he is and how he would just loveeee it if someone were to give him the best sloppy toppy ever. Tries to convince you that if you don’t do it he might actually die.
Yandere! Game Show Host enjoys how easily distracted you get and how you have a hard time focusing on multiple things at once. If you ever tried to escape from him all he has to do is talk about how female hyenas have penises and you’d immediately forget what you were about to do. If he ever needed to fall asleep all he'd have to do is talk about the fall of Rome and you’d be out like a light.
Yandere! Game Show Host takes advantage of how you never fully process the dangerous situations you put yourself in. For example when it comes to the sleeping arrangement, contestants are put strictly in one room to be monitored 24/7 but you’d probably complain how you don’t want to sleep in a room with so many people in it. Yandere! Game Show Host would happily decide to offer for you to sleep with him in his bed which you would readily agree to. Next thing you know you’re stuck in bed with a creep who’s busy fondling you to sleep properly. He’d probably try to make this a regular thing and just force you to stay there every night from then on there.
You: “It was so nice of you to let me sleep in your bed that was so nice of you. It’s really weird though, you have such a big house but only one bedroom with one bed. You should probably start decorating your house better.”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Yeah silly me I should really do better.”
You: “Wait a sec–” Notices how there's a piece of underwear that you lost a week ago peeking out of his drawer. “OH MY GOSH YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE!! YOU NOTICED HOW MY UNDERWEAR HAS GONE MISSING SO YOU GOT ME NEW PAIRS!!! HOW THOUGHTFUL OF YOU!!!”
Yandere! Game Show Host: sweating nervously. “... Yeah I noticed that too. You might not want to touch those though. They’re a little dirty because I haven’t washed them yet and accidentally spilled something on them yesterday–”
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1K notes · View notes
targaryenluvs · 4 months
Text
RAVAGE
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pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare
word count: 2k
a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀
part one of delicate
you couldn’t believe it.
coriolanus snow, president of panem.
all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.
so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.
so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.
which you had no idea were there.
coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.
he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.
over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.
“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”
“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”
“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”
coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.
your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.
you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.
what would he say? it was his gift to you!
you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.
“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.
AN HOUR AGO
“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three house with bruises everywhere. and for that?”
shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.
don’t hurt his delicate girl.
PRESENT
you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.
“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.
his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.
coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.
corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”
“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.
“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.
coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.
“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.
the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.
“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”
he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.
“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.
coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your head shoved at his face.
“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.
it was going to be a long night.
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explosiongamora · 6 months
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Being mostly unloved your whole life with out much attention from people around you 🤝 loving obsessive yandere characters
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llonelygoddess · 7 months
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Yandere House Stark Headcanons
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A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.
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Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?
This is where the yandere tendencies begin.
Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.
Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.
Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 
On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 
Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 
Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.
Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.
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aphroditelovesu · 5 months
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Yan!Husband Maegor the Cruel/Six Wives Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)
❝ — 🐉 lady l: This is more based on his wives than on Maegor himself, but I wanted to test something. This is dedicated to dear @gulnarsultan, hope you like it! If you just want one of Maegor, feel free to ask!! ❤️❤️
❝tw: polygamous marriage, murder, jealousy, possessive and obsessive behavior, mention of stillbirths and death on childbirth.
❝🐉pairing: yandere!maegor the cruel x female!reader, yan!six wives x female!reader.
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You must have been a very cursed woman when you were chosen to marry Maegor I Targaryen. Not only because he already had wives, but because of his well-known reputation and cruelty.
You begged your parents not to let you marry him, but it wasn't a choice to make. It was an order. Your parents couldn't deny it or they would be killed. Your family was well known in Westeros and had a good reputation for being fertile, maybe that's why he chose you. You cried a lot that day, but you had no choice but to leave for King's Landing.
Once you arrived, you were immediately greeted by one of Maegor's wives, Tyanna of the Tower. You were hesitant with her, knowing the reputation she maintained, but to your surprise, Tyanna had been nothing but kind and courteous to you, explaining everything she could about the court and Maegor. That being said, you quickly warmed to her, hopeful that you had a friend through it all.
The other wives were also nothing but cordial with you, some a little hesitant and others more open, but all kind and polite. You felt calmer about it.
Maegor has an explosive temper and everyone is directed towards his anger, not even you are safe, although you are the only one who can truly calm him down. Whenever he is having a temper tantrum or cruelty, you are called to defuse the situation.
His behavior is violent and difficult, his cruel acts became more common after he became obsessed with you. You must do what he wants, after all, you don't want your family to suffer the consequences, do you?
Ceryse Hightower was as sweet and kind as she could be. She was the warmest to you, hugging you and wishing you happiness and many children. She expected you to give her husband heirs.
She was kind, so sweet to you that she quickly became your friend, your ally. You adored her, and even though she was your husband's first wife, you had no problems with her or she with you. Ceryse has truly come to adore you like a sister.
Alys Harroway was the second wife and one of your closest friends, whom you mourned the loss of your friend deeply. She became pregnant with Maegor and quickly became happy and told you, leaving you excited and Tyanna jealous.
Alys was your closest friend, protective and calm. Her obsession with you was hidden but it was there, and she fiercely protected you from anyone. She wanted to be your only confidence and only friend and that was her undoing, after the disastrous birth.
Tyanna of the Tower was Maegor's most feared wife, and your friend. She was kind and courteous to you, staying by your side and whispering sweet and poisonous words in her ear. She wanted you for herself, not for Maegor or anyone else, she wanted you.
She was largely responsible for Alys' downfall, and Tyanna, even though she liked you, would still be willing to deal with you if you got in her way. She loved sharing you with Maegor, when the three of you slept together and she caressed your belly, sincerely hoping for a child that would be not just yours, but hers as well.
You loved them, all of them, but you couldn't help but feel awkward, especially with Tyanna. However, after Alys' death and the confession that Tyanna was to blame for the abominations being born, she was killed by Maegor and he soon took three wives at once. The Black Brides.
Elinor Costayne was the youngest and the most delicate, gentle and sweet. She quickly warmed up to you and soon stuck to you like gum, much to her surprise. Maegor didn't seem bothered by this, however.
Even after her fertility was proven and she managed to get pregnant with Maegor, the child was stillborn and with wings. She survived the birth, however, and clung to you as a source of protection and affirmation against her husband.
Rhaena Targaryen was one of Maegor's most fearless wives, perhaps because she was from the House of Dragon. She never wanted to marry him, but she was forced to and found comfort with you, in her friendship with you, and came to love you like a sister, in the Targaryen way.
She viewed Maegor with bad eyes and as a threat not only to her but to you. Rhaena couldn't let anything hurt you, not when she was already so attached to you. Her obsession grew and she felt jealous of Maegor when he was with you. It was just a matter of time.
Jeyne Westerling was shy and beautiful, with dreams that didn't include marrying Maegor, but one good thing came out of that marriage, and that was you. You were her only friend in the midst of all this and she considered you above everything and everyone.
You could still feel the fear in Jeyne's voice when she found out she was pregnant, the terror she was feeling. She cried in your arms when she found out, fearing she wouldn't be able to carry a healthy child. You tried to comfort her, but it was in vain, not when she gave birth to yet another abomination and died after giving birth.
You mourned the loss of your friend and Maegor the loss of what could have been a son. Now it was up to you, his beloved wife, to give him what he wanted so much. You were afraid of him, but Maegor loved you in his own way.
Possessive and incredibly cruel, he has no qualms about killing anyone who looks at you the wrong way. You are his, his wife, his Queen. Not from others.
Your life with him would be difficult and although you found comfort in your friendships with the other wives, you still felt lonely, far from your family, and forbidden to leave the Red Keep.
Maegor's possessiveness worsened when he discovered your pregnancy and this time he would be sure he would have the heir he so desired. It doesn't matter what means he has to take for this. You will give birth to a healthy and strong child.
Your fate was sealed the moment he chose you to be his wife.
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dark-fics-4-you · 7 days
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After Hours Lesson
dark!Professor!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader
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A/N: i imagine coryo as being in his late 30s to mid 40s in this fic, but I left his age open to imagination. Reader is 21 and I imagine her as not being a virgin
Warnings: noncon, forced sex, somno, fingering, choking, strangling, drugging, teacher x student relationship, slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink
it wasn’t everyday that one of your university professors invited the entire class out to dinner at a nice restaurant, so of course you wanted to dress your best. looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt that the soft button-down white shirt and grey houndstooth jacket paired well with your pleated grey skirt, knee length white socks and black mary janes, and it was an outfit that would surely impress your professor.
only a couple other students had arrived so far and as soon as you made your way over to the table, you noticed his eyes on you. “y/n! sit by me,” he smiled at you charmingly, gesturing to the empty chair beside him. you nervously complied, shooting him a smile before sliding in to the open chair.
the entire night you could feel him looking over at you, even when he was in conversation with other students, his gaze always seemed to drift over to you.
it was your senior year at university and you had opted to take an elective class with a popular professor, professor coriolanus snow. you were surprised when you walked in on the first day and found that most of the students were women. apparently rumors about professor snow’s good looks had gone around the school, but you hadn’t heard anything about them when you were registering for classes, you just thought the course looked interesting.
“are you going to get a glass of wine?”
his question roused you from your thoughts and you blinked at him before he questioned you again. “well you’re 21, right?”
“i am, but i don’t know if i should drink tonight.” you replied nervously. “i mean, would that be okay?”
you looked around the table, noting that two of your classmates were also drinking.
“of course, y/n.” he told you before addressing the table, “dinner and drinks are on me, i’m paying for it all.”
you smiled at his generosity and thanked him before picking up a menu and browsing the wine list.
even though professor snow was in a conversation with the other students, when he saw you looking unsure about what to order he leaned over and pointed to an expensive vintage red.
“this is one of my absolute favorites. i think you’ll love it.” he caught the eye of a waiter and ordered you a glass before you could even think it over, much less process the price.
the appetizers were brought out to the table quickly, and you were excited to try the array of choices professor snow had ordered for the table.
before you could reach for one of them, coriolanus picked up the plate you had been eyeing and offered to serve you.
“oh, yes please, thank you very much professor snow!” you smiled at him and offered your own plate to him.
he placed two pieces of toasted bread on your plate before grabbing small bowl of the tomato sauce it came with to spoon some onto your plate.
his wrist slipped however and he accidentally dropped a bit of sauce onto the exposed skin of your mid-thigh, just below where your skirt ended.
before you could even react, your professor was apologizing profusely and he grabbed a napkin off the table and gently wiped up the red sauce.
you shivered when you felt his fingers brush against your skin as he cleaned you off and you felt a hot flush rising to your cheeks.
“thanks, i’m gonna um, finish cleaning this up in the bathroom.” you nervously told him, flinching away from his touch and rushing to the restroom.
you quickly locked yourself into a stall, breathing heavily as you tried to calm yourself. he was your professor! you didn’t want to be getting butterflies in your stomach at his touch.
you finished cleaning off the small remnants of the sauce on your leg, taking a deep breath and collecting yourself before going back out to the table.
your wine had arrived, as well as all of the entrees and you took a bite before trying a sip of the wine. it was probably the best drink you had ever tasted in your life and you looked over to see your professor staring at you with a raised eyebrow, as if to say ‘what do you think?’
“wow this wine is amazing!” you told him appreciatively and he grinned back at you.
“i knew you would like it, y/n. young ladies like you usually don’t have such good taste, but i had a feeling you would appreciate it.”
his thoughtful words made your cheeks flush again and you bashfully thanked him for the compliment.
you sipped the wine, enjoying the way it’s flavor profile complimented the dish you got perfectly. it must have been a higher alcohol percentage than usual however, because you were already feeling it’s effects strongly after drinking less than half.
“what are your plans once you graduate, y/n?” the sound of your professor’s voice surprised you and you met his gaze as you answered.
“i’m hoping to go to law school after i graduate.” you responded, pride rising in your chest as you thought of all the hard work you had put in to reaching your goal of law school.
“that makes perfect sense for a bright girl like you. i’m sure you’ll excel there,” he confidently told you.
his focus shifted to the other students and as the night carried on and you drank more of your wine, you found yourself feeling very tipsy.
after professor snow paid the bill and everyone finished up their goodbyes, you stood to leave and you were surprised when the world started tilting beneath your feet.
a firm hand steadied you at your waist, and you turned to see your professor behind you.
“are you okay?” he asked, voice filled with concern.
you tried to stand on your own again, only to nearly fall over a second time. “i don’t think so, i feel kind of drunk,” you slurred.
he frowned and looked at you with worry on his face.
“i don’t think you should drive yourself home right now, y/n. why don’t you let me take you?”
you wanted to argue with him and disagree, but when you tried to stand on your own again and felt so dizzy you could have fainted, you realized he was probably right.
“okay,” you mumbled, allowing him to support you as he walked you to his car.
your professor helped you in to the passenger seat, making sure you had buckled yourself in before going to the driver’s side.
you leaned your head against the cool window, trying to stop your head from spinning as professor snow pulled out of his parking spot and started driving.
you were watching the street lights blur past, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids open, when you realized you hadn’t told him your address.
you opened your mouth to speak, but the next time you blinked, darkness filled your vision and you slipped into unconsciousness.
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you woke to the feeling of warm, wet lips enveloping one of your nipples.
when your eyes cracked opened, you were almost too shocked to believe what you were seeing.
your jacket was missing, and your white button up top was split open, exposing your bare breasts. your professor was positioned on top of your, lips attached to your nipple as his hands squeezed and caressed your tits.
you were laying on a large bed, in what was definitely not your house and you felt like an idiot for not realizing that everything was off earlier.
terror filled you chest, lodging itself in you throat, and you tried to squirm away, but your body was frozen in place and your limbs felt so heavy you could barely move.
coriolanus sensed that you had woken up and when he looked down at you with a devilish grin, you shivered in fear.
“don’t try anything, y/n.” your professor’s cool tone made your stomach twist in disgust and a horrible chill passed over you as you realized this was why he had offered to drive you home.
“professor-” his lips smothered yours, cutting off your wavering voice before you could protest. your stomach flipped when he kissed you and your jaw dropped in surprise allowing him to force his tongue into your mouth.
when he finally pulled away, you gasped for breath. you saw stars behind your eyes and you weren’t sure if you were dizzy because of how fast the room was spinning or because of the way he had kissed you.
“you’re so beautiful, y/n, you know that?” he softly breathed. “ever since entered my class that first day, i thought you were perfect.”
your pulse was racing in your ears, anxiety gripping your throat as you helplessly looked up at him. everything was moving too fast, and your brain couldn’t accept the reality you had woken up in.
“and then tonight when you walked in with this innocent little school girl look? fuck, it took all of my self control not to rip this off of you and bend you over the table in front of your classmates,” coriolanus chuckled darkly, eyes scanning your body as he did.
his words were revolting, but even worse was the feeling of his fingers brushing your thighs as he lifted up your skirt. coriolanus situated himself between your legs, greedily admiring the soft skin of your thighs before pushing your skirt up and exposing more of you to his probing eyes.
when he saw the white, lacy panties you were wearing, he paused, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he took in the view before him. “aw sweetheart, did you wear these just for me?”
your cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment at his words and he chuckled again at your silence.
the older man traced the lace near your hips before looping his fingers under the soft material and tugging your panties down. you tried to squeeze your legs together to stop him, but your professor easily pushed them open again and dragged your panties off of you.
you flinched when you felt professor snow’s hand nearing your core, and he held down one of your legs in a tight grip.
the tip of his finger traced your slit and you whimpered at the feeling. was this really happening? how had you found yourself drugged out of your mind at the mercy of your professor?
coriolanus watched your face as he slowly slid one finger into your heat. you were already so wet, he didn’t even need to warm you up, and the way you clenched around just one of his fingers had his pants growing tight.
your lips parted in surprise, a small moan crawling out of your throat. his finger curled inside you and tears came to your eyes when you felt yourself squeezing around his finger.
“you’re so wet,” he groaned before sliding his middle finger into you.
you tensed beneath him, whining when the pressure between your legs doubled.
“just relax,” your professor’s voice was a bit shaky as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.
coriolanus’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive cluster of nerves. your body was tingling, every sensation was heightened in your fear and you couldn’t stop yourself from loudly moaning as he massaged your inner walls.
you realized you could feel yourself growing wetter and you blinked hot tears from your eyes. you were disgusted by everything that was happening, so why were you shifting your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers?
the twisted pleasure was building in your gut and coriolanus could feel it too. his thumb swirled over your clit and you came undone around his fingers. your thighs quaked as your professor fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, and your mind felt blank as you numbly sagged against his bed. shame and guilt fogged your mind, and you felt completely betrayed by your body
coriolanus slowly pulled his fingers out of you before pulling them apart slowly and watching your slick juices stick to his spread fingers in thin, pearly strings.
the older man brought his fingers to his lips, licking your juices off of his fingers while gazing at you through half lidded eyes.
“mmm, you taste so sweet, y/n,” he purred and when you realized you got butterflies in your stomach at his words, you felt bile rise in your throat.
he started unbuttoning his shirt and you could feel the room spinning around you. you wanted to look away, but you were weighed down by terror and too scared to even blink.
coriolanus removed his shirt, revealing his muscular, but still lean physique. panic began to really set in when he unbuttoned his pants and removed them and his boxers. your eyes widened at the sight of his erect length. he was bigger than any of the few guys you had been with before, and also unlike your previous experience, coriolanus was determined to take things at his pace.
you felt light-headed and you could barely twitch your muscles, much less move your limbs. that didn’t stop you from trying though, and pure adrenaline gave you the strength to squeeze your legs shut and attempt to prevent what you already knew was coming.
given everything your professor had done to you up until this point— drugging you, kidnapping you, trapping you in his house, and now forcing himself upon you— you would have thought that you wouldn’t be surprised when he slapped you across the face with the back of his hand.
any delusion you may have been desperately clinging to that coriolanus snow was a ‘good’ man shattered then and there.
your head whipped to the side and your field of vision went white for a moment. white hot pain seared into your cheek and when you opened your eyes again, they were blurry with tears.
the sight of you trembling and crying beneath him was a sight that your professor had been secretly fantasizing about for months and now that he was finally witnessing it firsthand, he was eager to make all of his deepest desires a reality.
“don’t fight it, y/n.” his voice was shaking with excitement as he positioned himself between your legs and started lining up the tip of his cock with your slick cunt. you whined when you felt the head slide between your lips and start to push inside of you.
his tip slid past the resistance of your tight grip, but he tilted his hips back to pull out, and you felt confused and hurt when your body wanted more.
professor snow grinned down at you wickedly, relishing the sight of your eyes begging with his and your plump lips parting more when he moved again, sliding the tip of his thick cock into your cunt a second time and earning a heavenly whimper from you.
“you like that, sweetheart?” he asked softly, smugness dripping from his voice like rancid honey. he pushed himself an inch or two deeper, and his arms, which were caging you in beneath him, were shaking slightly as he held himself back from sheathing all of himself in you at once.
your professor grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head tightly as he slowly stretched you out with his cock. his face was so close to yours that your noses were almost touching and he swallowed your noises of protest with messy kisses.
tears were streaming down your face when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix and you tried to shift beneath him to adjust to the intense pressure between your legs, but he pinned you to the bed with just one of his strong arms. his other hand rested on the outside of your thigh, roughly gripping your curves.
you were terrified, completely disgusted with your professor and desperate to escape his iron clad hold on you.
“please no!” you quietly whined, straining to break free of his grasp and failing. “it’s too big!”
coriolanus groaned when you twitched around his cock, and the pathetic way that you tried to resist him was so adorable it almost made him laugh.
he tilted his hips back and started pumping his cock into you. you could sense yourself getting more slick as his length dragged along your walls, and your legs instinctively wrapped around coriolanus’ torso, pulling him in closer to you.
your professor peppered open mouth kisses over any exposed skin he could find, making his way from sucking on your tits to sliding his lips over yours, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that the sensation made something twist deep in the pit of your stomach.
when you moaned against his lips, his hand captured your jaw, keeping you trapped beneath him as his hips snapped against yours. his cock stretched you out again and again and coriolanus was relishing every sigh and gasp you gave him as he fucked you.
“you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.” professor snow’s voice was strained, his teeth gritted as he began thrusting into you harder. the hand at your jaw traced to your throat, and you looked up at him through your lashes in fear when he started choking you.
“professor!” you forced the word out past the crushing hand at your throat and you swore you felt his cock twitch inside you in response.
his pace was relentless. after feeling tortured by you for an entire semester, coriolanus snow was going to take what he believed he was owed, whether you liked it or not.
the fingers at your throat tightened and your eyes widened in terror when his second hand wrapped around your throat as well.
each stroke of his cock made your sensitive clit tingle with overstimulation and you couldn’t stifle your whines any longer as you were pushed over the edge.
you squeezed your eyes shut when you came, unable to look at your professor after he made you come undone against your will for the second time that night.
his grip on your throat strengthened as you tightened and spasmed around his length, and you hopelessly gasped for air that wouldn’t come. you were beginning to feel lightheaded now, the pain of his hands constricting your neck was making your vision grow fuzzy around the edges.
the blond’s hips snapped against yours furiously, punishingly; and desperately scratching at the hands at your throat only seemed to make him choke you harder.
you were petrified at the thought that if you didn’t do anything to stop him, you were about to die, but his hold on you was so tight that you couldn’t get away. he was so much bigger than you, there was no way you could overpower him.
as your vision slowly faded away, you heard professor snow groan loudly, thrusting into you a few more times before pushing himself as deep as possible and gripping your thighs tightly as he spilled his sticky seed deep into your sore, weeping cunt.
and then everything went black
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