#young!coriolanus snow x reader

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

[venuslore]

𖥔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔

summary ; coriolanus needs to learn how to relax.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; smut. 18+ content. minors do not interact! handjob (male receiving). swearing. spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

coriolanus’ determination to achieve the plinth prize was palpable. the coveted prize, awarded annually to the top students at the academy, granting them money and essentially a free ride through the university, was all he had been focusing on. 

countless books lay strewn across his desk, balls of crumpled up paper scattered around the room, as he stood before it. leaning against the old wooden table as his arms firmly held him steady. it was a clear indication that coriolanus had been pushing himself, striving to make every word and every thought count. 

while it was something to admire, that didn’t stop the worry that had been seeping in. it wouldn’t have been obvious to most, but to you, someone who spent a lot of time with him, you could see the dark circles that had begun to encapsulate his eyes, the way his hair was slightly disarrayed, or the fact that he hadn’t even completely changed out of his academy uniform. only his bright red pants and blue shirt still firmly clad on his body. 

he doesn’t hear you come in, doesn’t hear the thud from you closing the door, or you dropping your bag on the chair in the corner of the room. too enthralled by his textbooks and whatever scribbled nonsense is written in them, that it’s not until you wrap your arms around him from the back that he finally takes notice of your presence. 

a smile spreads across his face as he places a hand atop of yours, “what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised but pleased to see you. 

you pull him closer, embracing the feeling of holding him in your arms after barely getting to see him that day. the smell of roses filling your senses as you drink him in, “tigris let me in, said you’ve been cooped up in here all afternoon. plus, i… missed you.”

“i really missed you too, my love, but i-”

“-have so much to do. i know,” you cut him off, finishing his sentence. the same sentence you had been getting for weeks now. “which is exactly why you are going to put away the books and spend some time with your girlfriend.” 

you can physically see the gears beginning to turn in his head, trying to think of a way to let you down gently. you didn’t take it to heart, you knew how important it was for him to win the plinth prize. you were the only one outside of his family that did. 

“you already know you’re going to get that prize, coryo,” you sigh, “nobody even comes close in comparison to how hard you’ve been working for it, but you’ve gotta stop spreading yourself so thin.”

“i know, but tigris and grandma’am-”

“-would agree with me, that you need a night off,” you press a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, and pull him in even tighter. his head lulls back to lean against yours, blond curls falling into his face as a sigh leaves his lips. he knew you were right. “you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you for once.”

he turns to look at you now, eyes big and dewy, a mixture of surprise and understanding as he comprehends the hidden meaning behind your words. however, before he can utter a single word in response, your hands gently glides along his abdomen, gradually tracing its way down to were the band of his pants delicately meets his waist. his breath catches momentarily, captured by a flicker of anticipation, while his unwavering gaze remains fixed upon your own, unyielding and brimming with unspoken emotions. 

“you’ve been working so hard,” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost tauntingly, but he hears you all the same, “... let me help you relieve some of that tension.”

coriolanus swallows hard, falling into your hands, both physically and metaphorically, and he surrenders with a nod. it brought a smile to your face to see the hard exterior he put on crumble, become powerless, and just from your mere touch. 

his back stiffened as he leaned against you, watching as your hand roamed lower now, trailing down to where he was confined behind his pants. a shaky breath escapes him and he shifts on the balls of his feet, waiting with anticipation as you finally make contact with his now pulsing bulge. nothing separating you except for the thin material of his underwear. 

“y/n,” he sighs, your name falling from his lips so gracefully. 

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, pleased to see the effect you had on him. “shh, don’t think about it, you do enough of that as it is. just relax,” you push on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, as a bright flush spreads across it. 

you could feel him getting harder in your grasp, his breaths growing shorter and lower, eyes flailing closed with desperation. your hand runs circles around him, groping him where he needed you the most. it brought you pleasure just to hear the soft moans escaping him, watching him lose control to you. 

his chest rises and falls at a dramatic pace, his patience wearing thin, but that was all part of the fun. you wanted him needy, begging for you to touch him. 

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps, illiciting a stroke of excitement in you. 

deciding that he had enough of you teasing him, you waste no time delving into his underwear and releasing him from the constraints of his pants. an audible sigh of relief comes from coriolanus as you do so, his body shuddering slightly at the warmth of your hand finally making contact. 

he rests in your hand, his largely endowed member, all pretty and pink at the tip. you stroke him teasingly, rubbing the end with your finger to gather the pre-cum that had trickled out, using it to help you start stroking him. he shudders from the movement, struggling to stand still as you slowly pump your hand up and down his shaft. 

you remove your hand momentarily to collect some of your spit and when you hold him once more he shudders, struggling to stand still, and his hips begin to move involuntarily. if there was one thing coriolanus loved more than you pleasuring him, it was watching you pleasure him. 

tucking his chin against his chest, he watches as your hand works his length, pumping back and forth with ease. his hips jut forward, begging for more, until it all becomes to much and his hands lurch forward to grasp onto the table before him, just like they were when you walked in. 

“let it out for me, baby,” your voice is reassuring in his ear, sweet and soft, full of promise. 

hearing you speak to him in such a way pulls a moan from the back of his throat and he just about loses it. his body tightens at the same time, hips bucking himself into your hand faster as the coil in the pit of his stomach finally bends and breaks.

he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip to muffle his moans, trying to remain quiet so that no one else could hear what the two of you were up to. his knuckles turn white as he gently bangs his fist down on the desk, and it’s only seconds before your hand is warm with his cum. 

“fuck me,” he whisper-shouts, eyes clenching shut as his hips jut and dick twitches in your hand. 

“that’s my boy,” the comment pulls a small chuckle from coryo as you remove your hand, his white secretion now coating it, “though, it does seem like an awful waste. i guess it’s a good thing i’m not done with you yet.”

[allbark-no-bite]

Ignorance is Bliss || Coriolanus Snow x reader

summary: there’s something to love about the simplicity of boyhood. or in which there’s still good in Coriolanus and you love him

warnings: none really. this is just self-indulgent fluff. maybe slight mention of smut

word count: 1.3k

authors note: okay first of all ik everyone here spells it Coryo, but i much prefer Corio. the Hunger Games was the first ever fandom that i wrote for nearly 8 years ago (please don’t read my wattpad) and i’m so excited to have an up to date fic posted on here! the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes revived my love for the series and i hope you all enjoy :)

The sky shifts from a faint blue to yellow with the approaching evening light. In just a few minutes the swarms of awakening insects will be almost too much to bear. He swallows, and the combination of his dry mouth and the lack of humidity makes it feel as though his throat sticks together with the action. Being so deep in the forest, away from the rest of civilization, the air out here is so fresh that just breathing it is dizzying.

By now he's so used to the polluted air of District 12 that this sort of clarity is a startling but welcomed reprieve. In the Capitol, he'd grown up hearing stories of the miners in 12 who would eventually succumb to the horrific fate of suffocation, their lungs black from years of inhaling coal dust. Even after just a few months of being assigned as a peacekeeper to the district, the undersides of his fingernails had turned permanently black with the dust.

The games are far from his mind these days—at least most of the time they are. He has done his best to put those horrors in the past. He is no longer a Capitol student, fighting to prove that he belongs there in his hand me down shoes and shirts with buttons made of bathroom tile. Those days now seem like an entirely different lifetime.

His heart rate slows to the point that his chest hardly rises, and his only sign of consciousness is the occasional flicker of his eyes as he fights to keep from dozing off. He lies there watching the sky and counts the hours until the sun is swallowed by the horizon.

It's considerably quiet save for the breeze moving through the leaves of the trees overhead and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot of a forest animal. Five more minutes and he'll get up.

Movement at his side makes him grunt. It's not much, just a shifting of weight, but it still forces a puff of air out of him. Underneath the cream undershirt of his uniform is a mess of slowly healing, raw pink flesh. His body still hurts from weeks ago.

The district boy's spear had stabbed straight through  the muscle of his shoulder and was rapidly on the mend thanks to Dr. Gaul. The burns on his back were healing on their own accord, albeit slower than he would have liked. All things considering, his wounds had been relatively insignificant.

He had seen tributes sustain much worse things in the games before. He'd take a couple of burns over a severed head any day.

This time the weight lifts almost completely from crevice of his side and his attention shifts to the body beside him. You'd been curled up, asleep at his side the the better part of an hour.

"Where are you—" His question is cut off as your weight returns, this time into the pit of his stomach, curling up against the curve of his lean body. It half knocks the breath out of him. You have the tendency to do that to him.

With your cheek pressed into his gut, your hand reaches out for his own and he willingly complies, linking his slender fingers with your own. Perhaps you don't realize it but this is the same way he first touched you, hand in hand back in the zoo, and it will always mean more than anything to him. It is this thought that causes him to bring your wrist to his mouth and press his lips against it.

His mouth is warm against your skin, and even if you don't know exactly where the gesture of affection came from, you reciprocate it with the same tenderness.

"What are you thinking about?" You finally ask, breaking a long hour of comfortable silence.

You.

Rather than answering, Coriolanus hums in acknowledgment of your question. "Corio—" At the same time, he swings his leg over your hip, switching positions so that his body is hovering above your own.

"Hi."

You grin, fingers grabbing hold of the cool metal of his dog tags that hang down from his neck.

"Hi."

Looking pleased with himself, he dips his head down, capturing your lips with his own. You were his, and he was constantly refiguring that out.

The kiss is sweet, tamer than what you're used to from him. Not that he's ever been unpleasant, you adored Coriolanus and just about everything about him. But he was a man. A boy growing into a man and that came it, its own boyish tendencies. Regardless, rarely ever did you discourage his wandering hands.

You can't help but smile at the feel of his lean, brawny body pressed against yours. He'd been thin with hunger back at the Capitol. His time in District 12 training as a peacekeeper had done him well. Not only had he become sturdier with muscle, but somehow taller too. One of his legs is wedged between your own, and through his trousers you can feel him, half hard with interest.

Coriolanus pulls away from the kiss at the feel of your lips pulled into a smile. His brows furrow together in confusion, but your smile is infectious and soon enough his own frown is tilted upwards. "What? What are you smiling about?"

You attempt to subdue your grin at his inquiry, but it's to little avail, and that only drives his insistence. "(Y/n). What've I done?"

"Nothing," you laugh, a palm coming up to cup the side of his jaw so that your thumb can smooth over the sharp protrusion of his cheekbone. Normally the action would be enough to distract him, but he's persistent.

"(Y/n)."

“Really, it's nothing," you insist. "I just... I love you." That is what you settle on. I love you.

You love the naivety in which he is able to love. Pure and untainted by heartbreak. Too young to know much at all. Even too inexperienced to realize that there were more ways to satisfy his desire for you than just kissing. His body wanted you in the way that a man wanted a woman, and while he surely felt the effects of that attraction, his pure intentions had yet to stray.

Coriolanus' clear blue eyes narrow in slight skepticism but he doesn't press you any further. "I love you too," he says, lifting his hand to slip his fingers into your hair and massage at the base of your scalp. At the same time, his thumb presses up into your jaw, tilting your chin upwards so that he can kiss you again.

This time you indulge him further and kiss him back a bit more forcefully than before. Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair, and like a cat preening under the attention, his body reacts in tandem. He half snorts in amusement at your reciprocation but doesn't comment, too pleased to pull away long enough to taunt you.

Coriolanus takes it upon himself to deepen the kiss, the force of his lips upon yours not yet bruising but certainly heading there. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring the taste of your mouth. At the same time, one of his slender hands slides down your side, his fingers grasping at the curve of your hip.

The day will come that his desires get the best of him, and he’ll want more of you. Frivolous things such as the wrestling and the making out that the two of you do now won’t satisfy him later. And while the thought doesn’t bother you, it’s nice what you have with him now. It’s so simple and so easy to love him and his still boyish self now. The time will come eventually, and that’s okay. You’ve got a lifetime together after all.

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Masterlist

Fandom and pairing: TBOSAS, Dark!Young!Coriolanus x Named!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Premise:

Welcome to The Game!

There are no strict rules to The Game, and you only have one objective: to avoid capture. So you have to use your smarts, rely on your instincts and carefully plan ahead if you want to win. Outsmart the enemy, it loses a point and bides its time; get outsmarted by the enemy, and you get twice as close to getting captured. You may have to face multiple enemies at once. You won't die in The Game, but others might. You are at risk of losing yourself and compromising your core values as The Game progresses.

Will you prevail, or will the enemy ultimately land on top?

Overall warnings, take heed:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, ​possesiveness, drugging, somnophilia, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, Slow burn!! and other stuff that may be added

Special thanks to @honeybeezgobzzzzz 🌹🌹🌹

AO3 link here

Links to the Chapters (styled as Levels):

Level 1, Level 2, Level 3, Level 4, Level 5, Level 6, Level 7, Level 8, Level 9, Level 10, Level 11, Level 12, Level 13, Level 14, Level 15, Level 16, Level 17, Level 18??

[chmpgneprblem]

SNOWFALL OF HEARTS ; CORIOLANUS SNOW

pairing: coriolanus snow x tribute!oc part: two summary: coriolanus is torn between his harsh pursuit of victory and the growing warmth in his heart for erykah, his tribute from district 9 warnings: ooc coriolanus a/n: this series is gonna be super fluffy so if you're looking for angst I am not the person to go to!! idc if snow ends up being a little shithead I hate writing angst previous parts: one word count: 1.6k join taglist!!

A peacekeeper led Erykah to a train car. She climbed up and surveyed the area for her district partner. He was sitting in the corner waiting for her. She sat beside him for the ride, hoping that he would be an ally.

“That was your sister right? The one you volunteered for.” He inquired. The question woke Erykah up. “Yes, it was.” She mumbled, hoping to herself that she was doing okay. “I wish I had somebody that would do that for me…” the boy muttered more to himself than to Erykah. She didn’t question him further and instead rested her head on the boy’s bony shoulder.

She hadn’t seen her family before she left. That could be the last time she sees her sister. Why did I ignore her? She thought of her mother. What is she going to do without me? Will she take good care of her, or will she mess it up like last time? She tried to push her worried thoughts to the side as she picked at her nails. Please take care of her while I’m gone, she whispered to herself.

Coriolanus stood nervously at the train station waiting for his tribute. His heart was beating out of his chest as he paced alongside the train, hoping to see Erykah or the male tribute from her district.

At that moment he saw Panlo jump out of one of the train carts and lift his hands to Erykah’s waist to set her on the ground. Coriolanus was getting worse. He touched his blonde curls, hoping it would calm him down. It was no use. His heart was beating so fast he thought he was about to have a heart attack.

Erykah dusted her dress off after getting out of the train cart. She looked over at him with a confused look before turning to Panlo. “You can go along without me.” She muttered to him, smoothing her slightly frizzy hair before walking over to Coriolanus.

He nervously reached a white rose out to her, hands slightly shaking. “Welcome to the Capitol” He uttered to her with a grin. She took the rose out of his hand, brushing her fingertips against his. The feeling made him shiver. 

She took a long smell of the flower before questioning him, “Why are you here?” Although the question sounded rude, her sweet voice showed she was just curious. “I’m your mentor… for the games” He answered her, nerves starting to slightly dissolve. She nodded slowly, seeming to be thinking to herself. “Well what can you do for me as a mentor other than bring me roses?” The brunette tilted her head slightly as she asked him.

“I do my best to take care of you”

She blushed a little upon hearing that from him. The comment gave her comfort. She smiled widely, “Well that’s very sweet of you…?” She paused, realizing he never told her his name. “Coriolanus. Coriolanus Snow.” He answered her question, not as nervous as before.

“It’s been great talking to you Coriolanus, but I’ve got to go!” She announced with a big toothy grin on her face. A peacekeeper had shown up behind her, pushing her toward a different vehicle, one Coriolanus recognized as a cattle car. 

He sauntered after her as she got in the car. He walked along the train asking peacekeepers if he could ride with them. The two that previously stood outside the doors of the car, were now running after one of the male tributes that attempted to get away. Now was the chance, he thought to himself as he trod onto the car.

As soon as he got in, all the tributes were looking at him. Some with bloodthirsty eyes. Some with expressions of fear.

He stood there nervously as they continued to stare. “What’s wrong pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” A man Coriolanus recognized as the tribute from district eleven asked him mockingly. “Get him Reaper.” He heard one of the other tributes mutter to him as Reaper strode up to Coriolanus, slamming him against the back wall of the car. 

“I’ll kill you right now.” He declared aggressively. Some of the strong looking tributes got out of their seats and announced they all should. “Nothing left to lose now.” The tribute that tried to run away earlier stood up cracking his knuckles with a scowl on his face, seeming to be moments away from beating up Coriolanus.

“You got any family at home? Friends, maybe even a pet? They’ll be killed if you hurt him. Then you.” Erykah interrupts their conflict, attempting to defend Coriolanus. “Besides, he’s my mentor; I might need him,” She adds with a barely noticeable smile.

“How come you got one?” A girl with a short dark red haircut asks. Erykah didn’t know the answer, turning her gaze to the blonde for help. “You all get one.” He tried to comment calmly as Reaper was still pushing him against the wall.

“Well why aren’t ours here? How come flower girl here gets special treatment? Is it cause she volunteered?” She talked fast, poking fun at her for the incident at the reaping. “It doesn’t have anything to do with me volunteering. I guess yours just wasn’t inspired.” Erykah smarted back at her with a smirk.

The red haired girl looked like she was about to lunge at her when the cart started to shake. Everybody started to panic as the shaking got more and more aggressive. Coriolanus hung onto the back as it started to tip over. Erykah rushed out of her seat to get to him. She latched onto his right arm, he put that same arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

The cart tipped over completely. Coriolanus’ grip on the back of the cart loosened as he and Erykah fell down.

His eyes adjusted to the brightness of the outdoors as he realized where he was, the Capitol zoo. He looked around panicked, eyes meeting Erykah’s as she searched for his rose from earlier. 

A man doing a news report seemed to finally notice his presence. “Excuse me sir! Who are you, and why are you in there with them? We’re live.” He gestured to the camera recording him.

Coriolanus panicked as he stood up. Erykah grabbed his arm bringing him back to reality. “Own it,” She muttered, looking up at him with big eyes as he breathed heavily. He nodded slightly at her, trying to calm himself down.

He took the rose from her hand and snapped the stem. He grabbed the loose curls on her face, tucking them behind her ears before putting the rose behind her ear as well. She gave a small smile up at him before taking his hand in hers.

They walked up to two young kids in the crowd, seeming to be siblings. “Hi there, what’s your name?” She knelt down to the children's level, still holding Coriolanus’ hand. “My name is Pontius, that’s my little sister Venus. She’s only four.” The young boy told Erykah. “I have a little sister too. She’s quite a bit older than yours though.” She told Pontius with a slightly sad smile.

“That’s really cool that you took her place. Someday I want to be as brave as you.” The little girl, Venus, spoke to Erykah. “Well you can be anything you want to be sweetheart.” She gave the girl a big smile. She reminds me of Maggy, she thought to herself. 

She stopped her conversation with Venus to turn to the reporter. “And who might you be?” She questioned the reporter with a smile as she stood up, her hand letting go of Coriolanus’ to move to her hip.

“I’m Lucretius ‘Lucky’ Flickerman but more importantly, who might you be; Erykah from district 9.” He spoke to her in a very newscaster voice. “Well as you know my name is Erykah Thorpe. I do a little singing at a local bar in nine… Not much to know about me, I suppose!” She giggled and looked over at Coriolanus to see him with a smile.

“Well I’m sure the people in the Capitol would love to hear you sing, I know I would!” He talked to her enthusiastically. “I would love to!” She told him, partially for the cameras. Despite her love for music, the thought of singing for the Capitol made her feel weird.

“Do you know my mentor? He says his name is Coriolanus Snow, and I must have gotten the brightest star in the Dipper cause none of the other mentors decided to show up.” She told Lucky with a smile, grabbing Coriolanus and moving him lightly forward, attempting to change the subject.

“The game makers did tell you to jump in the cage with them…?” Lucky questioned Coriolanus. He tensed up at the comment. “They didn’t tell me not to. They just said that it was a mentor’s job to introduce our tributes to the citizens of Panem.” The way he spoke to Lucky almost sounded sarcastic. Erykah could tell the game makers got on his nerves. “And I thought if Erykah is brave enough to be here then why shouldn’t I be too.” He stopped talking to look down at her, who gave him a smile and a nod.

“Well it looks like you're about to be whisked away young man.” Lucky informed him in a slightly sarcastic voice. Coriolanus turned around to see two peacekeepers about to pull him away from the conversation. But Erykah stopped them, grabbing onto Coriolanus’ arm to say one final thing to him.

“Can you get me some food please? I haven’t eaten since before the reaping.” She asks Coriolanus, practically pleading with him. All he did was give her a soft nod, and he was pulled away. Can I really win this? She thought to herself as her only chance of survival walked away from her.

tags: @kkmikayla @specialk6802

[eternalbuckley]

warnings: SMUT - 18+ minors do not interact, talking about sexual fantasies, no specified reader, english is not my first language

thinking about young!coriolanus snow teasing you at an event, that many people are attending to. him coming up behind you and firmly placing his hands on your hips, resulting you into having a smile on your lips and leaning into him. him leaning down to one of your ears and leaving a kiss behind it, only to whisper the dirtiest fantasies he has in that moment about you. "bending you over that table right there and fucking into you in front of everyone sounds perfect, doesn’t it, my dear?" you tried to keep up your smile but struggled not to let out a whimper right here and there in front of everyone. knowing how many people attended this event. perhaps no one would have noticed anything because they were all too caught up with talking to each other and not paying attention to the two of you. but coriolanus just knows how to keep you up on your toes. he doesn’t care about others watching, he wanted everyone to know how dirty you truly are. coriolanus exactly knows what would happen once the two of you were alone and neither him or you could wait for this moment.

let's talk about coriolanus or anything else <3 | my the hunger games masterlist

[joviepog]

Oh god this might become an issue. I’m in my hunger games phase and I’ve reread all the books and rewatched like, all the movies. So now I’m head over heels for young!coriolanus. Lmao enjoy my first BOSAS fic!

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Weakness

Warnings: Mention of killing, cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard, kissing (if I missed anything let me know!)

Who: Young! Coriolanus x reader

Pronouns: She / her

Word count: 1,122 words

Tag list: @phxntomsdusk @haunted-headset @ax-y10 @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons (ask to be added)

Main plot: Corio realizes he finally has a weakness after so long, you.

This story is NOT proofread!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Snow is used to being the most powerful in the room. He’s used to having control. He likes having control. In all his years he had never had power until now. So when he finds out he finally has a weakness after so many years, he almost panics. Almost.

Corio would only have one weakness. Your smile. And at first, he didnt pay it any mind.

He didnt pay it any mind when you were just an option. He didnt care at all when all he cared about was if you were dutiful enough to be the first lady of Panem.

But now?

God he hated himself for not paying it any mind beforehand. Because now that you sit here, next to him in a counsel meeting, he regrets ever picking you to be his wife. The way you smile sends his heart aflame. The way your eyes close and your head tilts when you smile makes his breath hitch ever so slightly. You were like the sun in a room filled with cold hearted people. Your dress only brought out your smile more and he hated the people that let you wear such a beautiful outfit.

For so long he tried to avoid seeing you. It was more because he saw no point in seeing you. The only reason he married you was for the money and for the eyes of the people. Not for love, not for romance, and definitely not for his own selfish desires. And at first it stayed that way. He feared that the more he saw your beautiful smile, the more in danger he would become. He only saw you during important counsel meetings that you had to attend to.

At first, he was going to “get rid of you” because of his new found weakness. He was going to blame it on “natural causes” and hope he could find another wife. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He told himself that it was “just in the meantime” so that he could have time to find a new wife. But suddenly he started looking forward to those counsel meetings. And suddenly he started to see you in the hallways, or the library, or even the garden.

Totally not because he had memorized your entire schedule.

He hated how fucking weak you made him feel. He wanted to figure out why. Why had you made his heart skip a beat ever time you spoke? Why had you made him choke on his own drink when you would simply look at him with a warmhearted smile? Why was it that you had him following you like a lovesick puppy around the mansion?

Why. Why. Why

To find his answers, he started to speak to you. Only to find answers of course. When he would see you in the library he would make smalltalk. He started to dine with you instead of eating in his office. He started to walk you to your chambers to make sure you got there safe. He even walked with you in the garden on a daily just to see y- to get answers.

He wrote all his feelings down one day. Just like a child would write in a diary. And he hated it. So he burned it and made sure there was o evidence of his lovesick words. He would toss and turn every night, thinking about you, wondering why the hell he felt the way he did. He would daydream everyday at work when you weren’t there, imagining you smiling in front of him. And when you were there he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Why were you so kind? Why did you smile at him every day? Why did you bring him his favorite food twice a week to his office?Why did he feel so helpless around you?

Why. Why. Why.

He asked himself this for a whole year. He soon began to get eye bags from not sleeping enough at night due to his tossing and turning. (He had to cover them up with makeup for public appearances) He soon became fond of your walks in the garden. (Sometimes holding your hand and adding more of the flowers you liked) He soon bought you new bookmarks with different colored roses for your books. (One almost every week) He soon began to pop into your office with your favorite food twice a week just to see your smile. (Just like you had done)

He was completely clueless to his own feeling. His thought process was that it was “For you not to feel uncomfortable.” It wasn’t until one day he overheard of the maids talking about how happy he had seemed since you came that something had clicked. Every time he was with you a slime crawled on his face. Every time he looked at you his gaze softened. Hell, every time he heard your name he would instantly cheer up!

“Shit.” He grumbled as he turned around and went to find you.

‘One last test.’ He thought. ‘One last test to see if i really do love her.’

So, he barged into the library. He saw you sitting by a large window, face hidden in a book and the sunlight hitting you softly. You looked like a goddess. You perked up when you saw him, a smile appearing on your face. That damn smile was going to be the end of him. “Coriolanus! I thought you had just left for a meeting-“ You were quickly stopped when he moved the book from your hands and kissed you.

It was an angry kiss -sure- but a passionate one at that. It took you a second to process what was happening before you kissed back. He put his hand on your cheeks as he bent down to kiss you on your chair. You could only put your hands on his chest to steady yourself. After a few moments, he pulled away and put his head on yours. You both gasped for air softly and his lips were only a few centimeters away. He looked down to your lips and you blushed. “Coriolanus? What was that fo-“

“It’s Corio for you. Corio.” He interrupts. You smile, that damn smile that captivated him a year ago. “Okay then Corio. What was that for?” He pulls away and smiles at you before turning away, “Just double checking something.” He then walks away and leaves you dumbfounded on the chair. And as he walks through the long hallway of his mansion, he tastes the strawberry chapstick that you had on his lips. He smiles as he walks to his meeting. What was he going to do with you? His only weakness.

If you do want to be added on my tag list pls let me know! If you want to be taken off, private message me :)

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

A drop of poison goes a long way

Summary: More insight in Coriolanuses work life and the veil of what is going inside his past loves head is finaly revealed. Coriolanus is offered what he wants. Will it be his doom again?

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow and his brain; mentions of attempted murder, shooting, gun violence, prosthetic as result; Capitol people.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I am so sorry it took me this long to write this. December wasn't 🎄Decembering🎄 it was 📝Decembering📝. I hope you enjoy and I will try to be more on schedule. Hope yall enjoy.

[<-Prev. chapter][Masterlist][Next chapter->]

Coriolanus liked to think of himself as a sensible individual by Capitol standards, to say the least.

Then why has he been on the verge of ripping his hair out for the past day and a half?

Ever since Dr Gaul had presented to him his "fixed" songbird he has been in a state of mind unbecoming of the image he has built himself to be. He even had to cancel his lunch outing with Solicis Saddler, a hefty sponsor of the games with an odd bloodthirst for someone who was missing most of his natural teeth and had gotten a tacky golden replacement.

Dr Gaul hadn't allowed for him to take you home or stay long, not that he had been able to protest, eyes glued to your form like ot would set you on fire or make you crawl back in his arms. He didn't want to think about the consequences; he knew he had failed whatever test this was supposed to be. He should have remained stoic and proud, barely sparing you a glance. Instead, he gaped at you, hopefully with a closed mouth.

He had gotten used to troubling his mind with various plots and schemes before bed, usually that kept his mind at bay and away from you. Now, you came back in strutting to render him powerless over his own being. He felt stupid and weak, unsure who to hate more - himself or you.

He decides he hates you most.

After the encounter, he had gotten back in his car and gone to work, collecting himself now that you were out of sight. With the rise of popularity after the 11th and especially 12th game the making of the Hunger Games had become a lot more professional and lavish, the personal had expanded and even changed and added buildings to the office.

As a head game maker, he worked and operated over the main building, the center, and the gem of the whole operation. The building itself was in various shades of whites and blacks, and all in-between, a lot of the structure was from black and white marble with golden cracks. Coriolanus liked working there, in his expensive suits and office at the top of the building, overlooking the whole Capitol. he felt powerful, as he should. He was the one in control.

The main game makers teams were separated and had multiple departments that discussed locations, structures, finances, networking and so on and forth, anything needed for the games to run smoothly and be as entertaining as possible. He was the one who organized meetings and approved ideas and made sure they would also be reasonable by the almost limitless budget. This meant he technically worked only a few hours; the other time, he spent building ties and attending lunches and dinners that would benefit him. Technically, since he is the head and face of the operating, whatever helped him helped the community. So, no one complained or questioned him.

This day was horrible and he breezed by most of it, he felt that on the back of his mind he was reliving this morning over and over and decided its best not to interact with one of his best sponsors when not fully with hus mind. He had fumbled some excuse on his way back from work that he didn't feel good, which was partly true.

Now, the hot water of his shower was burning his skin as he increased it again. He didn't like the burning hot but thus was about discipline. I remember who he was now and for what eh stood. He wouldn't allow you to take this away from him again.

His sleep was troubled and came upon him way too late, his skin felt raw and sensitive from the waterx maybe he shouldn't over do it too much, he wouldn't like for people to notice. His carefully glided back curls were sticking everywhere, and he felt aggitated, but he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Not uncommon.

° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ °

In the morning, he felt better. He rose with the same confidence he had adopted and went out for a run. At least his stay in the districts had taught him discipline and instilled the need to train his body, something all the spoiled and often drugged up or obese people of the Capitol seem to lack. It made him stand out, with his sculpted torso and wide shoulders, strong but not intimidating brutishly so, he filled out his shirts and suits in way he never could back when he was barely eating anything with substance.

It had snowed again last night, surely a good fortune. His sneakers left imprints in the still not cleared up paths in the near park, his breath fanned over his face in clouds of white smoke, he could feel the chilling air nip at his sides through the thin running clothes he had. He felt alive.

By this time, his avoxes were up and on the go, tending to the apartment and the his work clothes and breakfast. He knew their routine like the back of his hand, and so they didn't dare step out of it; it felt good. Each day he got the same royal treatment, no back talk (or any talk for that matter), after a while even he didn't have to talk to them, they knew what to do, he would often limited himself to simple commands. It was a pleasant start to his day since he had to deal with pompous arrogant moneybags for a living.

When he reached the street on which his apartment resided the sun was starting to turn the sky redish. He felt a faint sheen of sweat on his doby and shuddered as his body started to cool down from the exercise, what caught his attention was one of his avoxes waiting for him at the threshold of the apartment. Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he approached, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing. Judging by the unsure look on their face he knew something had gone wrong, they weren't supposed to be here.

"Could you explain to me what you are doing outside?"

The avoxe looked up at him with gaze that held too much fear, sure he had punished avoxes before but not so cruelly. A mere doubling of chores or less food had been all he had done, merely disciplinary shows of power. The same way a dog needs to be taught, so do humans. The avoxe passed him a note, an envelope sealed with red wax in the capitols symbol. A message from the Citadel.

Coriolanus lifted an eyebrow. Receiving mail isn't exactly an out of the ordinary thing, he doesn't think it's really worth it freeze his ass of and catch something over a letter, but his gnawing intuition told him it was something bad. The realization seeped through and he felt an unpleasant churning in his timach as he ripped the envelope and read the letter.

It would hardly be called a letter since it consistented barely two sentences but It made his head spin.

"Take this as an encouragement from the staff of the Citadel for all your hard work. We hope you don't mind we clipped your Songbirds wings a little."

It wasn't signed but it didn't have to be. Who else could have scared his staff this badly but Dr Gaul? The implications of the letter set in and he barged into his apartment way too quickly, almaot shoving the avoxes down the stairs.

Snow fells and littered his floor, making wet spots on his white rug, but it wasn't the only thing tainting his apartment. There on his couch he found you, sitting cross-legged and fighting woth the decorative bouquet of roses on the coffee table. Your gaze snapped to him, watching hiw with curiosity and a startled look in your eyes as he stared back with such intensity it made you feel uncomfortable.

The hospital gown he had seen before had been switched for a creame white knitted dress that reached your knees and black leggings with boots, semi-useful for the weather and surprisingly basic for the extravagant taste of the Capitol. In the natural light seeping from the glass wall your prosthetic arm looked too natural. You looked too natural, unchanged, maybe even bettered by some fancy Capitol equipment.

What surprised him most was the way you looked at him.

He had spend a long time going over all possibilities of interactions between him and you, he had imagined a cold shoulder, yelling, screaming, maybe you would even try to attack him. But you looked at him with admiration, your face brightened as you placed your warm gaze on him. Not lovingly like before, you didn't seem to recognize him fully.

He walked closer until your knees were a hairstarnd away from his thigh and stopped. He didn't know how to react, he could feel the grasp of control he wielded best at his own house. You just had that effect on him, maybe it was the puppy smile on your face.

As he approaches you stand up, now he can clearly see the white bow on your head, truly wrapped like a present for him.

"Dr Gaul sends her warmest regards. And im here to thank you personally for all you have done for me."

Coriolanus despote everything found himself even more confused. Sure, he had done a lot of you: kept you alive during the Hunger games, cheat in the Hunger games for you, carry out some duty in district 12. He hadn't imagined you'd be thankful for it now. His lack of response must have confused you.

"I am so very thankful you saved me from the districts. I would have been left for dead if you hadnt sent your team of doctors to help me." - you add with a sweet genuine smile and loving gaze.

What?

"Well i couldnt leave my girl for dead among these animals. You know I'd do anything for you." - he smiled back and went as far as to gently grasp your hand in a sweet gesture.

He is grasping at loose straws here. It was evident that your memory was very... selective and altered. He could somewhat force himself to imagine that it was all due to the incident, but he knew better. This was all Dr Gauls idea and work. He needed to figure out more of the scenario Dr Gaul had constructed for you. And to find out how.

You seemed to like the gesture, squeezing his hand into your smaller one. Your hands were softer, not calloused or rough from playing guitar or surviving, but soft and inviting. Your nails were even done, he had to give it up.to the person in charge of your presentation, they had truly went all in.

"It all happened so fast, the doctors never filled me in fully of what exactly happened." - he said feigning ignorance and worry.

"It was horrible. After i returned i wanted to see my family so bad, but everyone turned on me. They chased me down through the forest because i had managed to get a glimpse of what thwy want - wealth and power, even if briefly from the Capitol. My own family tried to shoot me." - you said and it visibly made you upset, your voice became more uneven, wobbling lightly with along with your bottom lip.

Your own blood? You had no living family, you'd said so yourself before. It appears the lab team had decided to do this in the most dramatic way possible.

He put his thumb on your slightly trembling chin, running his knuckles over your reddening bottom lip and coo at you sympatheticly, as much as he could.

"My poor girl, im so sorry it took us this long to get you back and kicking. Those people certainly did a number on your poor body." - he ran his free hand up on the prosthetic bicep, it felt colder to the touch, not as squishy as human flesh and fat, but surprisingly close.

You nod into the palm of his hand, looking at him with big watery eyes. This is amazing, Coriolanus thought. He had you right how he always wanted you, under his thumb and eating out of his palm. You were like a frail little fawn waking up after the cruel winter had passed, everything is different but so so familiar. He would be your guide, he will show you the right way, he will be your light and your dark. You will worship and thank him for taking your control and responsibilities away.

All hate seemed to be burried for now, this opportunity made Coriolanus too excited, to have his favorite toy back. You weren't the girl who had sicked a snake on him, no, that girl was dead, trapped in her own body but permanently erased. Whatever he had now was the perfect doll with your face slapped on it.

"Oh my precious lamb, welcome home."

He cooed and tried to keep the sadistic glint in his eyes from showing too much. He put his arms around you, big hands digging into the warm material of your lower back, the rose ring on his pointer finger scraped the material. Your cheek was pressed against collarbone, nosing at his neck. Even a few seconds in his embrace and the sickeningly sweet smell of white roses was clinging to your whole body. Even a few minutes were enough for his poison to take root.

He runs his hands up and down your back, keeping you close. It felt good, to feel your warmth again, it made something tick in his brain whenever he felt your warmer weaker body against his. Call it animal instincts or a sick mind, neither are too far off.

"Ive missed you" he croons in your neck, his nose bumps your pulse point and it makes your head feel lighter. You are alsmot too loat in each other, but the feeling of being watched makes you open your eyes to find a nervous looking older woman. You instinctively true and pull away from Coriolanuses tight embrace but he doesn't let up, his hands just dig deeper into the fat on your hips and sides.

"Where do you think you are running off to? Are you not happy to be mine?" - he asked with a mocking tone but the intensity in his eyes never wavered.

"Corio, there is someone her-"

"Just an avoxe, no need to be shy. She wont say a peep." - replied clamly and stood back to his full height, keeping you good to his side like an accessory. Your face was held to his chest by the back of your neck, the hold wasn't strong but you hadnt tried to break free either. It made your cheeks burn a tad bit. "What seemes to be the problem?"

The woman stood still and pondered how to explain it without actual words but the loud bickering of an old man that could be also drunk and rattle of metal made Coriolanuses breath hitches for a moment.

Solicis Saddler.

He had promised dinner at his penthouse to make up for canceling, to go over the future plans of the games to keep the bloodthirsty man at bay and his wallet open for all gruesome scenes. Judging by his pompous screaming and yelling at his staff he had taken the invitation to heart.

Coriolanus had completely forgot about this. And it made him feel like the ever-growing tower that was his life was tilting, he was getting sloppy. He needed to focus again. He won't repeat the same mistakes.

Pressed against him, Coriolanus could feel you flinch as the octaves kept on getting louder. He needed to apologize to his neighbors tomorrow for all the chatter. He gave your waist a squeeze and kept you locked to him.

"Let him in."

(Not my best but lemme cook chat, i.swear ill do better next time.)

[anundyingfidelity]

please help this whore in need🚑

i swear there was a young!coriolanus snow x fem reader dirty smut somewhere here on tumblr in which the reader is sejanus' sister and the summary was something like "coriolanus has taken everything from sejanus, even his sister" or something like that and i'm dumb so i forgot to save it 😫 if anyone remembers pls tag me or something

[ichorai]

wool ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive

warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner

a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter. 

Control. That was all he needed. 

It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you. 

You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.

That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.

But there were… distractions.

Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.

He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.

Lower, lower, dangerously low—

When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.

She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”

Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.

“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”

You stiffened, and Coryo bristled. 

“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.” 

There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.

You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time. 

“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”

The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine. 

“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.

“Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”

You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”

The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”

“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.

Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?

But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you. 

“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”

Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.

“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.

When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his. 

“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?

His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.

As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth. 

After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.

He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.

[kitscutie]

omg if you’re still wanting requests for coryo, maybe sm like he’s mentoring reader instead of lucy gray (she is safe and sound in 12 dw!) and they get reunited after r wins the games? maybe by some kind of fluke? i’ll leave it up to you bc i love everything you write babes <3

money, power, glory (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: coriolanus snow is your mentor, unlike the others he has a drive for your survival - it quickly becomes clear your bond goes above mentor and tribute.

a/n: this is not part of the snow and roses series but part two is coming very soon -hope you enjoy! also thank you so much to this anon - you're a cutie!

word count: 3.6k

join my taglist here!

The train ride to the Capitol was dark and lonely. It felt as though everybody had already found friends or were close to their fellow District tribute, yours wanted nothing to do with you.

Seeing as you were from twelve you were thin and weak, you knew that, you could feel it in the way your stomach rumbled on a loop every day or the way your head spun when you stood up but you never thought one of your own would turn their back on you.

You didn't think you stood a chance, simply another pawn in the Capitols game but still you had hope.

When the train stopped it jolted, tipping you over had you been stood up like Thornton your fellow Twelve tribute. He wasn't muscly but more so burly, it was clear his family was among the wealthier back home but compared to the Capitol it was nothing.

You stood up from your small corner, cowering away from the sunlight which blinded you upon the doors opening. You heard yells, presumably from your fellow tributes or even the 'peace keepers' as they tried to calm the crowds.

Below you, you saw a flash of red which stood out from the white uniforms and wall to floor grey cement.

Upon closer inspection snow white hair lay atop his head, prominent and proud.

Thornton jumped out of the box on his own accord, not prompted by the guards, nor the boy below you, simply motivated to get into the Hunger Games.

Your head slowly peered out from the box and that's when his eyes met yours, strikingly blue they seemed out of place in such a colourless setting.

"Welcome to the Capitol." He stuttered out, holding a rose which matched his hair out to you, it was beautiful, nothing you had ever seen back home.

"Thank you. Could you-." You began to ask for his help out of the train which staggered above the ground just below half of your height, though he realised quickly, holding your waist as he gently placed you on the ground in front of him.

Finally out of your cage you took the rose from his calloused fingers, admiring it in all it's beauty. It reminded you of him, soft and subtle yet powerful as it stood tall on it's stalk.

"This is beautiful." You said, it came out in something similar to a whisper, your body still adjusting to the new setting. "You look different," You said as you glanced around at the tributes in dirty hand me downs and the guards in plaster white uniforms. "Who are you?" You asked.

"I'm your mentor." He smiled charmingly, it seemed second nature to him.

"Where are the other mentors?" You once again asked, unsure if this was new or simply something you had missed as you sat watching the games between your fingers.

"Well, I'm not supposed to be here but, I'm sure greeting you falls in my line of duty." He said. "Taking care of you." He added which sent butterflies wild in your stomach. He was doing his job you reminded yourself but nobody back home was quite this attractive nor this attentive. You had never been taken care of. Always independent to survive.

You said nothing more, taking in all of his glorious features until a peacekeeper grabbed you arm, taking you with the rest of the tributes into an armoured van. You were once again alone.

You watched in surprise as just moments later your mentor jumped in behind you, standing against the back wall as if to not be seen in a packed and confined space.

"Hi." He said, realising he stood out like a sore thumb. It almost made you chuckle - his blatant fear but then you realised you should be much more scared.

"What's the matter pretty boy, you in the wrong cage?" Said Reaper. He was a tribute you admired, he was brave and strong and seemingly had a deep care for his friend Dill.

"No. This cage is delightful." He smiled. You were impressed by his natural appeal, well to you at least. Every word which came out of his pale lips had you hanging on by a thread.

With that Reaper had had enough, slamming him against the wall with power. "I'll kill you." He said convincingly.

"He'll do it too. He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven." Dill spoke as she stared into nothingness.

"I say we all kill him." Added Bobbin as he now stood up too, the other Tributes speaking out in agreement. You began to panic, he was your only source of companionship, of opportunity to leave the Capitol in one piece and here he was about to be ripped to shreds before the Games even begun.

"He's my mentor, could you please not kill him?" You asked pathetically as you attempted to stand between him and Reaper. A feeble attempt though an attempt none the less.

"How come you get a mender?" Said Coral, dirty gaze set now upon you.

"Mentor." He corrected her. "You each get one." He finished, hoping this would calm them in their attempt to kill him.

"And we'll all just believe you, huh? Why does Twelve here get special treatment." Coral replied, now out of her seat and very much in your face as she squished your cheeks between her grimy fingers.

"I'm not special, just lucky I suppose." You shrugged feeling heavily intimidated and under scrutiny by all of their hungry gazes. Eager to pull blood from you in this very moment.

The room went silent and at first you didn't realise why, until you felt your cage begin to shake, slowly tilting towards the ground. Your mentor's hands once again wrapped around your waist though this time from behind you and your own reached down to hold onto his wrists, having no stability.

You all screamed as you fell down onto hard wood chips and damp mud. Eyes were once again blinded by the harsh sunlight as you adjusted to wherever you now were.

A mans voice echoed around your new cage - how kind of them to give you multiple in such little time - seemingly introducing himself to the crowd around you before he spotted the red uniform.

"Excuse me, yes you sir, in the red! Who are you and why are you in there with them, we are live!" He asked, hair gelled to perfection to one side.

You grabbed your mentors hand as he stood frozen in his spot clearly unsure what to do, you however saw an opportunity, an opportunity to stand out.

"May I introduce you to my neighbours?" He asked sarcastically as though he really hated the people filming you like you wanted to be here.

With that the pair of you walked over, but not before he took the rose from your free hand and tucked it behind your ear. It burned under the warmth of his skin, not having had any form of physical touch for as long as you can remember.

"Hi. How do you do, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and this here is my tribute Y/N L/N from District Twelve." He said partly for the cameras partly introducing himself to you and you to him. He already knew your name. He had watched the reaping's, seen you cry in weakness.

"Hello." You mumbled partly shuffling to hide behind his body. Not used to such attention.

He focused his attention on you, firing questions at you over and over again until you had had enough. "More on my mentor, seemed he's the only one who bothered to show up." You said and the boy that you now knew to be Coriolanus rubbed his thumb back and forth over your hand as he sensed your discomfort being Infront of so many prying eyes.

"Well I would love to ask him some questions but it seems as though he's about to be whisked away." Lucky said and as soon as the words came out Peacekeepers appeared behind the pair of you grabbing him by the biceps and beginning to drag him away.

"Hey." You held onto him for one second longer. "Thank you for everything Coriolanus Snow. But uh, could you please bring me some food? I can feel my bones turning into dust as we speak." You said. He slightly chuckled at this but no less nodded.

With that, you were once again alone.

"Y/N!" You heard your name from behind the rock you sat against, instantly recognizing the voice to be Coriolanus Snow.

"That for me?" You asked as he pulled out a few pieces of food wrapped in tissue in front of you. He handed it to you through gaps in the fence, wordlessly answering your question. "Thank you." You said as you eagerly stuffed your face, this being the first meal you had eaten in days, no weeks.

"They not feed you back in Twelve?" He asked, concerned.

"No. We don't exactly get that luxury." His question surprised you, you assumed it was common knowledge that food was few and far between in the outer Districts yet here he was, surprised. "Seems your friend already knows that." You added as you watched a girl in a matching uniform to his teasing Brandy.

"She is not my friend she is poison with perfect teeth." He answered and yet again it sounded so perfect. He knew just what to say to please you, comfort your mind as you wondered at what point he would turn on you. "Listen, you can't share this with anyone. This is my only chance to help you and they-" He said discreetly pointing to the tributes scattered around you, "Are only going to use you."

"Not like I've got anyone to share with. Don't think I'm very popular." You said, defeated. You supposed that out of anyone, you didn't want to befriend the people who would shortly be wishing death upon you but instead the man before you who would hold your hand until the moment you walked through that door.

"Maybe not with them but out here you have a chance. I've made some suggestions, I might be able to get the audience to send you gifts. Food and water. You just need to play into their game, win them over." He said, face against the fence as he wished to keep this information between the two of you. An advantage.

"I don't want to play their game, the same game that got me here in the first place? I don't think charming anyone is my forte anyway." You once again deprived yourself of any credit, picking at the skin around your nails.

"You're more charming than you think Y/N. I'd bet on it." He said, gaze digging deep into your soul. No one had ever complimented you before never mind in such a blatant way. You knelt down, tired of standing and he went with you continuing your conversation.

"Dill reminds me of my sister, before she passed. So sick and weak, I hate to think of her in a place like this." You shared, feeling vulnerable to him in such a short time.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely.

"You seem like a good man Coriolanus. Would've been nice to meet you outside of this cage." You said, tapping on the metal bars before letting it settle there.

"Mhm." He agreed, tilting his head sympathetically and after moment of what must have been deliberation he wrapped his own hand around yours. It warmed your skin, chilled by the cold iron beneath your palm.

Your sweet moment was cut off by Arachne's scream as Brandy had enough of her teasing, smashing the bottle and using it to slice her neck.

You stared in horror, this was what you were up against in that arena, you stood no chance.

Coriolanus leaped into action, comforting the bleeding girl while Peacekeepers shot Brandy down. In all of your years alive you had never witnessed such violence and it left you shaking, even more so as the bullets narrowly missed Coriolanus' head.

The Peacekeepers grabbed his arm, once again pulling him away from you, your heart beating in his direction.

The next day you were all placed in a large circular room. You and your fellow tributes shackled to a table while the mentors sat proudly, postures straight before you.

You were allowed to discuss game plans for the main event but also for a televised special where the Capitol could get to know you. Nut it wouldn't really be you, just a shell of your former self.

"I'm sorry about your friend." You sympathised, he was clearly upset, scared you weren't sure but his energy was different to his hopeful exterior from yesterday.

"Thank you. Are you doing okay?" He deflected, though his care seemed and was genuine. He cared about you more than the way a mentor cares for the tribute. Your connection went deeper.

"I'm scared Coriolanus. You saw what those tributes can do yesterday. I'm nothing compared to them! I've never even killed a spider." You cried out in desperation, hands shaking where they were tied to the table.

"I'm scared for you, Y/N. I don't want to lose you in there, so I guess that makes two of us." He replied, soothing you. "But no matter how scared you are you have to perform for them in the interviews later. Pretend to be someone else or be yourself it doesn't matter but this is the last chance to make them like you. Didn't take much for you to win me over." He added.

"I- I just can't Coriolanus. I'm no performer. I'm no different to them just weaker and a character in their entertainment." You answered, slowly admitting defeat.

"You have to be brave, Y/N. For me, okay?" He begged, once again placing his hand over your own.

"I'll try." You decided. You either died of embarrassment or an axe to the face and you knew which you proffered.

"Snow. Let's go!" Shouted Casca, the creator of the games. A man you loathed.

"You'll be okay." He said before he left his chair leaving you to sit in the large room as the other debated their strategies.

Later on once you were allowed to view the arena he returned. Instantly walking in stride beside you as if he never left.

The arena was void of light except the red beams which pointed out the entrance. It was eerie and honestly a fabrication of your worst nightmares.

This time in your fear you felt no hesitation to grab onto his hand, and he grabbed your back, linking you fingers with a squeeze which said to you 'it's okay' without saying anything at all.

Seeing the cameras you released it, not wanting unnecessary attention upon yourselves.

The gates closed behind you with a loud clang, leaving you in the darkness and you stumbled back into his chest, the only thing keeping you from a breakdown being the steady beat of his heart beneath his chest.

Shutters on each wall began to rise letting in the natural sunlight outside but yet you were still very much in another cage.

While the other tributes decided their alliances you stuck by Coriolanus' side and he had no objections. "Coriolanus you can't met me die in here. I've got so much left to do." You begged, clutching the opening of his red suit.

"I wont let you die, Y/N. Even if it's the last thing I do." He replied, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His words were laced with truth, knowing his plans to bend the rules in order to keep you alive.

The moment was short lived as the centre of the arena exploded, rubble and smoke flying everywhere including into your forehead as you felt blood trickle into your eye.

Both you and Coriolanus ran, though he was seconds too slow as a pillar fell onto his leg trapping him against the floor. While the other tributes ran having little regard for their mentors you ran back, pulling it off of him with every last ounce of power in your body.

Your heart ached hearing his cried but also with the pain that this was most likely the last time you would see him before the games as the Peacekeepers found you and dragged you back to the 'zoo' before you could attempt escape like the others.

"Y/N." You heard your name whispered into the darkness of the night. You hadn't slept, not since the thought of Coriolanus being dead crossed your mind and so it hadn't taken much to catch your attention.

"You're alive, thank god." You cried. Seeing his face untouched calmed your racing heart.

"The bombs, they changed everything. I've been in there, you can hide, the floors gone. You can hide until it's safe. Run when it starts and don't come out until it's safe, please Y/N. Don't go for the weapons." He begged to you. You had planned to hide in the first place but his desperation for your survival warmed your heart.

"Thank you Coriolanus snow. For taking care of me. Just like you promised." You said to him, tears beginning to fall from your eyes, the same tears you hadn't let fall since the train arrived in the Capitol.

"Just like I promised." He smiled. "You saved my life in there Y/N." He added.

"I'm sorry." You said as you couldn't hold back your desperate tears anymore. You were sorry you wouldn't succeed for him, sorry this was the last time you would see him, sorry that your heart ached for him.

"It's okay, It's okay." He soothed you. Wiping your tears with his embroidered handkerchief. "I'm gonna get you out of there. I promised after all, right?" He repeated his earlier declaration of promise, it meant everything to you and yet nothing. At the end of the day your survival came down to you and you didn't know if you could handle blood on your hands.

"Is this all real? Between you and me, do you really-" You began to ask, though he cut you off.

"I care about you, Y/N. Really. No amount of money could make me do this for you, risk it all. The things you wanted to do, wanted to live for? I want to do them with you. I want to give you the life you deserve." He said and that was all the confirmation you needed, the feelings you were having were real. Not part of the game, not faked for the cameras.

He was here in the middle of the night to help you.

"We are gonna win this, Y/N. We are gonna win this together."

It had now been fifty four days and counting since you had last seen him. The games had come and gone, what you thought was luck leaving you a victor.

Days had been boring since Coriolanus Snow left your life. You returned to what you had left behind in District Twelve, friends, no family and a wooden shack you called a home.

Your heart longed to see him, more than anything in this world you wished to feel his hand in yours one more time. Hear his reassuring words one more time though now you needed them to comfort your nightmares.

Today was the same as every day had been. Get up, bathe in a bucket, eat vegetables you found in the forest and then read the same books you had for the past eighteen years. It was all you had but now more than ever it felt good to be stuck in that cycle instead of stuck in a cage of people who called for your death.

A knock at your door at mid-day startled you. It was unusual to get visitors in District Twelve - everybody keeping to themselves and yet something dragged you to answer.

Opening the door you saw a figment of your dreams. White hair, blue eyes and pale skin, yet they were too real and close to be something your brain created.

"Y/N L/N, you are a sight for sore eyes." He said, his voice like butter in your ears.

"Coriolanus?" You asked before he tackled you into a hug, hands gripping you like you would slip through his fingers at any moment in time. "How- what." You began to ask.

"I was sent to Eight to be a Peacekeeper but I used my last cents to get sent here instead, then I just asked around to find you. Find my girl." He said as he held your face between his hands, checking you over for injuries. The last time he was you you were injured and cowering in the arena, begging to be set free.

"You found me." You whispered, diving in to kiss him. He responded immediately, wasting no time in curling his lips into yours. You fought for dominance but ultimately you let him take over, needing to let go for once.

"I missed you so much." You whimpered in both pleasure and pain as he kissed and nibbled on your neck. Dream becoming reality. "I begged with every last but of luck within me that I'd see you again." You confessed, bringing his face up to kiss you once more.

"And here I am." He smiled, staring into your eyes, breathing the same air as you.

"I thought my life ended that day, in that arena. Losing myself, then losing you." You admitted, eyes similar to the last time you saw him, glassy.

"Y/N, Y/N." He chuckled, "Our life has only just begun."

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[blythdreams]

BLYTHDREAMS MASTERLIST

requests: open

𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩!

𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘶'𝘴

one

𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴

𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥!

𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴

𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸!

𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴

[etfrin]

⤷❝Can't be Shared | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | somnophilia, mentions of prostitution (Snow was going to 'share' you) cunnilingus, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), possessive af Snow, impact play (he slaps your thigh once), ruined orgasm (you do cum in the end) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow was going to share you with the elite of the Capitol but changed his mind halfway through only to have his way with you and make you the First Lady of Panem

⇢☾A/N: hehe, the longest fic I have writing so far, hope y'all enjoy this and reblog ;)

<masterlist> < bc: @cafekitsune >

He thought he would be okay with it. He was sure he would be okay with it. But he wasn't. Snow's blood boiled when the rich elitist of the capitol had begun to touch you, whisper you praises, and whatnot. The only thing that was going in his mind was his, his, his.

When had he gotten so attached, he wasn't supposed to be. Letting them touch you, and play with you was a strategic decision to get them hooked and you weren't meant to be his Queen but something had changed. Something snapping in him when the Capitols’ richest eyed you like a meal.

His jaw was clenched and he cleared his throat, “I changed my mind.” He said, “I am not sharing after all.”

You are his. His property. His bird locked in his cage and now his Queen. He pulled you closer, away from prying hands. He glared, memorizing the face of any and everyone displeased, thinking of plans of how to dispose of them quickly because even if briefly they had touched you that was a sin. No one taints the Queen but a King.

He cordially finishes dinner, keeping in mind he was a president, a newly appointed one at that even if he wanted to he couldn't drag you into his room and have his way with you. But he wanted to. His free hand is on your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave a small bruise. His hold gets tighter the more he has to smile pretty and act polite.

You hadn't said a word, you weren't sure what to say. You were ready to be shared, used, and then discarded. Snow had told you of this beforehand, but he had changed his mind and you were grateful.

Even as he marked you, made you whimper with his grip, giving your thigh a warning squeeze to be quiet. You were relieved that he decided not to share. You were his, you liked that you were his.

Dinner took longer than you would have preferred, but when it finally came to an end, Snow leaned into you and whispered, “Be on my bed wearing my shirt and nothing else, my bird.”

You didn't reply. You get up, walking into his room, heat choking your veins and making your pussy ache and wet. You close the door as you reach the master bedroom of the manor.

Going into his closet you picked on a red shirt, knowing that it would match your skin tone well. You had taken everything else off, your panties and previous clothes on the floor. You were in full display as you didn't even button up the shirt. Your breasts are exposed to the cold air making your nipples harden.

You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come. One minute bleeds into ten and you laid down on the bed. One hour turns to several and your eyes close up. Sleep catches up with you.

You woke up with a gasp. Sleep at the edge of your mind but your mouth lets out a moan wantonly as several things hit you at once.

One. Snow was here.

Two. Snow was between your thighs, his hands keeping your thighs wide and spread for him.

Three. His lips were on your clit, sucking it vigorously making you arch your back and wanting to flinch away from the intensity.

And you tried to move away, your bud sensitive more with pain than in pleasure. How long was Snow like this, sucking at your clit. Your pussy was now impossibly slick and throbbing, wanting to be filled.

A slap was delivered onto your thigh, a hitched moan leaving your lips because of the delicious pain. “Behave,” Snow sneers at you, his blue eyes looking ravenous, his face smeared with your arousal. This was Snow? You thought for a brief second. For once he felt like a man brought down to his knees by a woman instead of something untouched.

“Sorry,” you gasp out as he dives into your cunt. His tongue drew circles onto your clit as your cunt clenched around nothing. You never thought Snow would be sloppy at anything, you thought wrong because his breathing was loud, warn air of his pants grazing your sex. His stubble brushed against your sex as all of his attention was overstimulating your clit.

He finally lost interest as you cried out that you were close just by him playing with your clit for who knows how long. It hurt. It felt good. Perfect, delicious pleasure and pain. You were dizzy, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. Leaving no parts of your cunt untouched by his mouth. He was licking every drop of your juices, all the while he made you wetter.

Your hands were fisted into the sheets, your hips subtly moving for friction. A notion that was stopped with a squeeze of his hand on your thigh. You were brought to your high, so close to the edge you would fall in a second as moans spilled from your lips.

Only for that to be snatched away as Snow moved away. You cry out, “No! Please!” But Snow merely raised an unamused eyebrow while his hand wiped his mouth. “Snow, please,” you whispered, feeling the heat and the high of your lost orgasm.

He lets out a scoff as he sees your desperate state. “My meal is finished,” he merely said. His hand takes off the red suit, the same color as your (his) shirt. His fingers unbutton his white shirt, revealing his toned physique. Those same hands now unzipped his pants, his boxer down to the floor revealing a hard cock. The well-rounded tip leaking pre-cum.

“But I am not done with you yet,” he muses, as he moves in closer. You were sitting up now and his hand was on your nape.

“I don't think I'll ever be done with you,” he whispers, the words sealing a promise of forever. “Don't be,” you whispered back, leaning to catch his lips. Your arms around his shoulders to pull him on top of you, to feel his weight, his skin against yours.

Primal instincts take over you both as you kiss. Desperate whimpers and deep groans could be heard and his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Making it bleed and making him suck your blood into his mouth. He pulls back with a gasp, his eyes wide, his lips swollen. His taste was of a dessert you couldn't name. Addictive and delicious.

His left hand was on your cheek, another still on your nape. His thumb brushes your cheek in a manner of caring. “You're the Queen of Panem now,” he announces, making your heart jump in surprise. “The First Lady of Panem.”

With that, he seals his words with a kiss. Soft and ravishing, his tongue explores your mouth. Your hand is in his hair, the blonde locks between your fingers as you kiss back with everything you have.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing with yours, “My bird in a cage. My property.”

“I'll make sure everyone at Capitol knows it,” he said, his eyes looking at you with the ferality of an animal stripped to his bare instincts. “Is that understood, my bird?” He asked.

The answer couldn't be anything but yes. So you replied exactly that and he grins. He looked beautiful in that moment, his charms coming out making you even more needy.

You pulled him in for another kiss, his lips smiling against yours as both of your tongues tangled. His hand lowered itself and cupped your cunt. His fingers trace your entrance and you whimper into his mouth but he doesn't breach in.

He gathers your arousal on his digits, and he pulls back from the kiss to take the digits into his mouth. After sucking his fingers clean, he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself.

His hands pushed you down on the bed, your legs on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, taking you in, his bird being such a pretty mess.

He placed a kiss on your thigh that was unbelievably soft that for a moment you didn't believe it was action done by Snow's lip but the harsh bite of his mouth marking the skin of your inner thigh proved otherwise.

He leaned down, his hand in your hand above your head. Your free hand dug into his shoulder, forming crescent marks that made him groan, a choked-off desperate sound that you wanted more of.

All the while he placed his cockhead right at your entrance. You gasp as you feel the tip slip inch by inch into your velvety warmth. You wondered if he was going so slow because he wanted you to adjust to his length. However, one look at his face told you were wrong. His blonde strands clinging to his forehead, his lips parted and letting out hot breaths all the while his eyes closed shut, his eyebrows furrowed as he buried his dick into your cunt with the slow pace.

The reason he was going slow was because he wasn't sure if he could last and fuck, that got into your head. Birds are little teasers and you were no different so you clenched around him. His length half pushed in and felt your pulsing cunt wrapping itself tighter around him.

His eyes fall open as he lets out a grunt of surprise and pleasure, “Fuck.” His icy eyes glare at you, “Don't.” Your pussy only clenched further in reply and his hold gets harder, pressing your hand into the mattress as he sank in completely without a warning. “Ah!” You let out in surprise, the stretch painfully perfect.

“Take it,” he whispered to you, his lip biting your earlobe before he dragged his mouth to the pulse of your neck to mark you up properly as his property. His hips now beginning to move, calculated and controlled just like every other action of Snow. Every thrust hits your g-spot relentlessly, making you gasp and moan, back arching in pleasure.

“Gentlemen make their women cum but you're not a woman. You're my property but I am merciful so cum. Cum on my cock untouched, my bird.” He groans into your ear as his pace gets faster, a tad bit of desperation creeping in as his hips slam into you without a care. You could only moan in reply, truth is you didn't need to be touched to cum. His cock, his skin against yours, his mouth sucking your neck, and placing love bites were enough. More than so.

The heat was already forming in your stomach, waiting to be released and spread all over your body. The final push hadn't come long after. As you and Snow shared a filthy open-mouthed kiss, he had thrust so hard and deep, a small bulge had formed, your cervix being kissed with his cockhead.

You cry his name and your pussy comes on his cock, milking his length with repeated squeezes. “That's it, my bird,” he praises as he continues to abuse your cunt with his dick. Your nerves are oversensitive making you whimper and teary-eyed. He found his release with a whimper, his hot cum filling your womb. He pulled out with a small gasp and you wanted him again.

His hand ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands up. “First lady of Panem,” he stated, looking at you and then your body, his cum falling out of your cunt.

“First Lady…” you whispered, in disbelief and for whatever may come in the future.

[dotieeee]

Saccharine

A Teaser

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x Named!Female!Reader

Multi-chapter fic, most likely slowburn

Summary:

Coriolanus Snow, having known hunger most of his life, learned at an early age how voracious his appetite can be. This was during the war: a girl roughly his age had spared him a handful of the most delicious candy he'd ever tasted. He's never quite forgotten the taste of the sweet, nor the kindness of the girl who had given it to him.

Years later, the same appetite brings the newly-assigned District 7 Major-Officer Snow to this non-descript grocery store in search of food, only to find something so much better: the same candy, and you, the grocer's reclusive daughter. Could you be the same girl who had selflessly chosen hunger to lessen his?

In his quest to find out, he unearths many things: your true identity, your family’s secrets, and his rather sweet spot for you. You become his favourite treat, and since he’s nothing but insatiable, he’ll do just about anything to get his fix.

Warnings:

None specific yet, but this a vanta-black dark!fic that will contain non-con and murder

Release Date/Status: TBA, incoming

[chmpgneprblem]

SNOWFALL OF HEARTS ; CORIOLANUS SNOW

pairing: coriolanus snow x tribute!oc part: one summary: coriolanus is torn between his harsh pursuit of victory and the growing warmth in his heart for erykah, his tribute from district 9 warnings: swearing, ooc coriolanus a/n: really excited for you guys to read this! also this will become a series! word count: 0.8k join taglist!!

Whispers echoed across Heavensbee Hall as Dean Highbottom broke the news to them all. “The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.” He paused. “But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.” 

As the shock settled in, Coriolanus thought to himself, I’m done. His hopes of winning that prize money were gone.

Students started to make comments as Highbottom continued to talk. “Obviously the best mentor will be the one who’s tribute wins the games.” Festus cut him off with a worried chuckle. “Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Mr. Creed. Not survivors” Highbottom responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, victory in the games is only one of our considerations.” 

As he finished talking, the sound of horns played, signifying that the reaping was starting. “Let the reaping ceremony begin!” Dean Highbottom shouted with a smile as he sat down between Coriolanus and Sejanus.

He started to list off the tributes and the corresponding mentors for them. As he went down the list, Coriolanus prayed to himself that he got somebody good. His thoughts were cut off as he heard his name.

“District 9. Boy, Gaius Breen. Girl, Coriolanus Snow.”

Erykah Thorpe stood at the front of the rows at the yearly reaping. It’s fine, she thought to herself, It’s my last year of this. It was the last year for her, however it was her sister’s first. She’s only in there once.. There’s nothing to worry about. 

“Magnolia Thorpe!” The mayor called her sister’s name as he held the small strip of paper in his hand. Throwing it to the ground moments after reading it.

No, no, this isn’t real. She thought to herself but she was snapped back into reality as she saw her sister walking past her.

“No! Take me! Take me instead!” She yelled at the mayor practically begging for him to allow her. “Are you saying you volunteer?” He asks with a confused yet delighted look on his face. “Yes.. I volunteer as tribute.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, lifting her chin higher and moving a strand of hair out of her face.

He whispered to one of the peacekeepers, she assumed to ask if that was allowed. “Well come on up here!” He exclaimed with a smile, waving his arm forward.

She walked onto the stage, making sure to not look at her sister despite her thrashing in the peacekeeper’s arms. “Erykah please don’t go!” Her sister screamed while getting pulled away. Erykah still didn’t look at her.

“What a cold hearted bitch” Coriolanus heard from behind him as the rest of the students whispered about her. “What the hell is she doing”, “She’s choosing to be in there?” He tried to ignore them as he kept watching her.

“Well what’s your name girl?” The mayor asked her, smiling widely as he talked. “Erykah Thorpe” She said, staring directly into the camera as she spoke. “Well I would bet that was your sister you just volunteered for!” He continued to speak with that annoying, overjoyed smile. She didn’t respond this time, just kept looking into the camera with her jaw clenched. 

Despite the situation she was in, Coriolanus couldn’t help but admire her beauty as she looked at the camera. She had long dark brown curly hair, slightly bushy eyebrows that accentuated her hooded eyes which were the same color as her hair, light freckles all across her face and plump pink lips that were slightly pouting at the moment.

Now that he was looking closer at her, he noticed what she was wearing. An off white dress that came down a little past her knees, nothing much different than the rest of the crowd. That was until he noticed the faded rainbow of roses and vines embroidered into the chest of her dress.

Her looks and outfit were much different than the angry expression she had on her face, which was now directed at someone in the front of the crowd.

The camera angle was changed to a wide shot. She and Panlo, the male tribute of district nine, were about to be escorted off the stage. Before they were pulled off, she dipped herself into a deep exaggerated bow and mouthed the words “Fuck you” to that same person in the front row, who Coriolanus could now identify as the mayor’s son.

That was the final straw for the peacekeepers. Who were pulling her out of the bow, as she repeated herself to the boy in a yell. Panlo and another peacekeeper followed shortly behind her as they went back to where the train would soon take them to the Capitol.

Coriolanus didn’t know how to feel about his tribute. He thought about her as they went through the rest of the tributes. Clemensia snapped him out of his thoughts. “You’ve got an interesting one, Coryo.” She whispered to him with a smirk.