ਏਓ `cute Little Housewife

Playing basketball with the spider characters

n.o.t.e.s - I don't even know at this point 💀

w.a.r.n - crackfic, idefk, this before miles got hunted down by grown adults and children. Not proofread because it's 3 am, and I just listen to pinktape 💣.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - various!spider-verse characters x reader

w.c. - 1.4k

It all started with a simple game of basketball on the court of the Spiderman HQ, practicing some passes with miles, as he looked a Gwen, accidentally getting slammed in the face with the basketball.

"Oh shit, sorry miles!" you piqued, as you put your hand on the side of your head, bending over to help him up from the ground.

"Shouldn't have been staring at Gwen for too long" you snickered, while you grabbed the basketball from the ground.

"Yeah, yeah" Miles groaned, rubbing the place he got hit, "Now, let's play some basketball, gotta get your head cleared" You threw him the ball with some force, placing your foot on the court before he bounce the ball on the court.

"Come on, miles. Your knew the guy, people said you were good and tough" you teased, "I wonder if you got weaker," you said.

"Yeah, yeah get into the game," Miles said back before he dribbled the ball before you chased by the court, swiping the ball from him and shooting a 3-pointer, as Miles fails to smack the ball away from you.

"You said you gotta better Miles, what happened" you laughed, before dribbling the game, swerving your body away from Miles intercepting the ball from you, just to score on him again.

"That was just round 1," Miles said, before stretching his arms, before he looked at Gwen.

Gwen just looked at Miles, shaking her head with a laugh

"Better not lose, your girlfriend here" you said.

"SHE NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, yet" yelled out, mumbled the last part.

"Yea sure" you spat.

Before you knew it you manage to make the score 18 to 7.

"Come on, miles, why are you so tired" you teased, as you looked at his tired hunch back form, "Just give me a minute" he wheezese.

"Been 2" you said, before bouncing the ball around him. As you looked at his form running to sidelines as Gwen gave him water to drink.

"Come miles, where was all the talk" You gave him a smug grin, as he chugged down the water.

Before you turn around to see Hobie and Pavitr walked into to see the noise, as you bounced the ball onto the ground mocking Miles.

He glared back at you, "Oh, Hey Hobie, hey pavitr! Wanna join the game" you exclaimed. Pavitr immediately said no, knowing he gets crushed by you. It was infamous that you know to get a little competitive when you play any type of sport or do a challenge with anyone.

"No thanks Y/N, just trying to see what was happening" Hobie took his hand out of his pockets, walking towards you.

"What happened to Miles" he questioned you, knowing what probably happen.

"He challenge me to baseball, so I did" You gave me a cheeky smile.

"Oh, I see. Well, Miles, it was good to know you" Hobie came up to him a pat his back, putting his hand into his pocket as he sat next to Pavitr.

"Come on miles, time is ticking," you said before Miles walked into the court. Not some long, you scored on him more and more. And the loud noise of the buzzer got more of the attention of the Spiderman variants, walking into the court, as miles scored against you, soon more and more people came crowding near the court.

"Oh man, this is rare" Peter walked into the court with Mayday, as Mayday got out of her sling. Crawling to Hobie, as hobie place her into his lap.

As he sat down, "Miles you better win this" he shouted out.

Earning looks from miles.

"Come on Y/N, where was all the smoke," he said, with a smug smile.

"Don't get too cocky, morales" You seethe, catching the game he three at you, before dribbling and scoring it in.

The whole court seemed to get crowded as people started betting on who was going to win. Hobie started to sell tickets to get inside to see the game. The whole crowd was getting loud.

----

Miguel walked down the hallways of the HQ, "Where is everyone" Miguel hissed out, as Lyla's hologram figure spawned.

"It seems like they're at the basketball court" Lyla responded by checking the loading of some screen panels, "Seems like it's almost to max capacity".

"What are they even doing there," Miguel said looking at Lyla, "Their game is being held there" she utter out.

"Between who?" he turned around to Lyla's hologram form, "Miles and Y/N," she said with excitement, "Oh that's gonna be fun".

"Well, can you call everyone back to get to work, there whole multiverse worth dealing with" Miguel said before looking at lyla's missing form, she was long gone.

"Oh for god sake" Miguel cursed, walking towards the court.

..

"Hobie, what are you even doing" Miguel crossed his arms, "Selling tickets boss," Hobie said while leaning on his chair, doing a salute at him.

"Besides wouldn't you not want to watch game, Y/N is absolutely crashing miles, it game you can't skip mate" he beckoned, Miguel raised his eyebrows at him, cocking them.

"You can get in for free, since your a big boss," Hobie said, "besides Y/N playing," Hobie said, looking straight into Miguel's blank stare, "What is that supposed do with me?"

"Just get in there" Hobie pointed at the doors, as Miguel shrugged getting into the packets room, seeing you stealing the ball from Miles.

Before he started pushing some variant out of his way before making his way into the court, interrupting the game before you and Miles stopped. "What the heck, Miguel" you exclaimed, pointing a him.

The whole court was silent, as Miguel turned around.

"Are you guys serious, you guys are all here while there a whole multiverse in danger?!" Miguel yelled out, earning some mutters from the crowd.

You placed your hand on your hips as you held the basketball in your other hand.

"Miguel do you ever shut up" you snapped at him, Miles immediately side-eyed you, as Miguel looked at you with a glare, "Excuse me"

"Your excused" You smiled at him, cocking your head to the side.

As Miguel hissed at you, "What if I make you a deal" you proposed, Miguel cocked his eyebrow at you listening, "Play a round of basketball with me, if I win nobody here has to listen to you for a week if you win, then everyone has to obey your command and ill even listen to you" you listed the bet.

"Sure" Miguel agreed.

"Miles, off the court," you proclaimed, "Hey!" he exclaimed.

"Off the court" you repeated to him again, taking a glance at him, as you bounce the ball onto the ground. The sound of the whistle echoed throughout the room, "Well, this going to be interesting" Hobie walked into the crowd where gwen and pavitr was sitting.

"Definitely is," Gwen said, before snacking on some popcorn, as she gave some to mildly upset Miles who sat down right next to her.

"Major" Pavitr said, as he leaned out of his seat.

Soon the game started, and then the score started to begin to tie up, turning into a close game. "Oh jeez, it's a close game," Miles said out, leaning back in his seat.

The time of the final game closed up to seconds, as it was from inception to inception, you were getting tired, as you heaved out. "Y/N, don't tire on me now" Miguel gave you a smug smile while dribbling the ball.

Getting out back into the court, as you took the ball from his ball incepting the throw, as you dribble the ball from him. Swerving your body away from the steal, you dribbled the ball to the hoop.

As a huge, tall Miguel block your view from the hoop, before you curve yourself jump onto him, and dunk the basketball into the hoop forcefully, breaking the backboard. Glass shattering onto the floor, glass going everywhere.

"Oh my days" Hobie stared in disbelief, Pavitr clasping his hand to in mouth in what just happen.

Gwen and miles looked at each other in disbelief, Lyla recording everything that just went down.

Peter just finishing his Spiderverse whopper. Mayday just clapped in excitement, babbling incoherent things.

It was silent before loud cheering was heard.

"RAHHH" you yelled in front of Miguel face shocked face, "Miguel losing was a canon event" pavitr yelled.

"I guess no more listening to you," you said, giving him a big smile, as you stick your tongue at him.

"-For a week" he muttered.

"I can't believe that just happen, Miguel losing" Lyla started laughing.

"You should have seen your face, Miguel, priceless" she cried out.

Miguel just stare at her with a blank expression.

As you danced around Miguel, gloating with excitement.

I dare you to do the darkest, dirtiest, most disturbing shit with Coriolanus peacekeeper

⤑ GRIM REAPER

A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE! UGHH, I love possessive coriolanus, he is so sexy when he has authority, man I love him.

WARNING: p in the v, non to dub-con, love bombing, gaslighting, fear, hitting, kidnapping, coercion, hair pulling, bondage, forced mudpie, oral sex (male receiving), jealousy, cum eating. *** coriolanus being possessive and obsessive.

PAIRING: Peacekeeper!coriolanus x district!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.5k

Born into the district—born into a life of hardships and pain...you were luckily born to two parents, and though you weren't financially stable you managed to enjoy a happy with your family. You had 3 siblings you had to look after, and whenever your parents went off to work, life was stressful but every time you got to see their faces smiling you were also satisfied.

When you got older you got a part-time job, at the vendor selling food, it was owned by an old couple who graciously gave you the job, though it wasn't a lot of money you took to support your parents. They asked to take a shift that was deeper into the night, so you accepted the offer, needing the money. Holding yourself up at the cart, waiting as you called out for customers, feeling yourself getting tired as the second. Stretching your arms out, as you looked further into the night. The night there were more Peacekeepers out, inspecting the district, it slightly made you feel apprehensive at the armed men walking through the area.

Your eyes hesitantly look and watch their movements, brushing the dust off your aprons, fixing your hair as your hair stuck to your neck from the humid air. Hearing footsteps inching near you, as you looked up...you felt your heart dropping in automatic dread, at the blonde Peacekeeper in front of you. You cleared your throat before speaking up to him, "Could I interest you, Sir?" you asked, your voice quivering as you spoke just to keep a positive tone. You felt his eyes raking you. He nodded, "I'll have that" He pointed, as you nodded. His eyes looked at you as you wrapped it up, "Have I seen you before?" He questioned, you looked up at him, "I don't think so..." You smiled at him, as you quickly boxed it up. "Enjoy, Sir" You put your hand out gesturing for him to take the box, "Thank you," He said, taking the box from your hand, and you felt his rough hands against yours.

You watched as he took his leave...you finally got to breathe, releasing the pending oxygen in your lungs and exhaling through your nose.

From the simple exchange, Coriolanus found himself visiting you at your vendor stall. Though, your introverted nature, you reluctantly started talking to him. You told him little things about your life, but he was smart enough to connect the puzzle pieces that you told him and connect it back to your life. He found your coquettish antics cute...and after your shifts you found yourself spending time with him, and often the districts were hot and humid, spending time by the lakes.

His sky-blue eyes took the appearance of your disheveled form, but he found you still captivating—from your dress strap falling to your shoulder and your light dress sticking against your wet skin. He wanted to take a picture of you to save the memory...but Time after time, he found himself getting slowly addicted to you...his visits got frequent, and he would deliver little gifts or care packages to you such as medicine, food, or water. You were grateful for him doing this, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him, at first you were hesitant to take the gifts but he would ensure that it was a gift for you.

You didn't think about the kind gestures he would do for you, but you would always thank him for what he did. Soon, his obsession with you was like a disease, it kept on spreading and spreading over time, every time he closed his eyes, it would be just you, even when he worked on his daily tasks, his mind would be infected with pictures of you. He would always prefer to be stationed somewhere near you, he would be observing you as you worked, he hated when you talked to other men that weren't him, and his obsession with you was unhealthy, It felt like he couldn't last a day without or seeing you, sometime he would show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses in his hands surprising you.

The first time it was a nice gesture, and you loved it but it started again and again, his presence was almost suffocating to you, and when he asked you the question, you felt fear of saying no to him. But you knew if you were to say 'yes' it would get worse, so you told him to give you some time to think about it, he nodded but you knew he was displeased.

You had a plan to just run away, but you knew sooner or later he would catch you, you shivered at the thought. Knowing that your family would be harmed in the invasion, your ear perked at the sound of the door, you dragged your feet to the door, opening it up. It was him, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his Arctic blue eyes staring at you. It was haunting, he cleared his throat before talking, "So..have you made your decision?" every word he said made your heart pump faster, your flight response ringing alarms through your body to run.

"Coriolanus..um" you stopped mid-way, looking at him in his eyes, "I do thank you for what you do for me, but—I barely know you, and I don't think we would..be good together" you finished your sentence, feeling an eerily feeling in your gut, "Why" that all he said, you looked again at him. It looked like a shadow was cast, his bright sky blue eyes that he looked at you with, were darkening as he spoke.

"For all I do for you, you choose to deny me" The volume of his voice increases, and you force yourself to look at him as he yells at you, he laughs for a short while, before grabbing your jaw, "I protected you, I have done everything for you" you eyes watered from his grip, "I think you should leave, Corio" you whispered, it felt like whip when you used his nickname in that sentence, he released your jaw. His hand was in your hair down, pulling you down, as you felt tears threatening to be produced, his rough hands pulling on your hair, making your scalp hurt, "Corio..please!" You exclaimed, he started to say something else, every word uttering from his word was like venom to an open wound. He threw down the bouquet of roses onto the floor

Your knee felt weak as you fell down onto the floor, hearing his footsteps receding, and the sound door being slammed closed. Tears dripping down from your cheek, the bouquet of roses on the floor, as the petals were scattered on the floor, it was some sick remember of Coriolanus. Days passed, and you saw roses on your doormat, every day it would happen, and you felt fear looming over you.

Every time the color would change from pink to a deep red, they varied every day.

But you went back to your job, selling at the stand to the deep of night, noticing the tie, you quickly packed the cart up for tomorrow and rolled it back to where the old couple resided. You sang to yourself as the wheels of the cart rolled against the broken concrete before you knew it, you felt a hand wrapping your torso, and something else like cloth suffocating you, you tried to scream, but it went deaf in your throat, succumbing to the cloth as you closed your eyes, fainting into the strangers hands.

Your eyes fluttered open, as your eyes wandered around your surroundings. You felt your legs numb, as you tried to stand up, but couldn't, looking down at yourself, rope wrapped around your body. You tried not to move from the friction of the rope hurting you.

Your ears perked at the sound of footsteps,. "Your finally awake, my dove" He walked towards you, taking a knee when he got a good look at you. His fingers caressed your cheek, "We were meant for each other, Y/N" He whispered, you started shaking when his hands lowered, and you turned yourself away from him before he withdrew from him. Before he grabbed you by your jaw, forcing you to look at him, "Do I scare you, am I that ugly that you don't want to love me, Y/N" You shook your head immediately, "Then why.." He growled, and you felt tears on your cheeks, "Don't try to use your crocodile tears on me, Y/N" He glared at you.

You looked away from him, as you sniffled, "Fuck, you don't know what you do to me.." he traveled his finger over your lip, parting it, as you stared at him. Before he kissed you, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, you felt yourself crying more, as you bit down on his tongue. He withdrew from you, the trail of blood on his lips. His haunting chuckle echo in your ear, "You fucking bitch" He held his jaw. He stood up from the floor, looking away from him.

You heard the sound of belt jingling, your eyes widening at the sight, of his cock in his hand, "Corio, no..please' you begged, your felt yourself crying more, his footsteps inching near you, he slapped his cock on your cheek, it was degrading. "Open," He said, and you felt your lips trembling at the size, "N-no" you whispered, and he repeated himself again, you turned away before he pried your lips open and forced himself into your mouth, making you gag. His hands were in your hair, as he dragged you against his cock, fucking into your mouth. Salvia dripping down from your chin, his groans ringing out in your ears.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, sweetheart" He looked down at you, as your tears filled your vision, he smirked looking at your vulnerable form, before he thrust himself into you. You felt his hot load going down your throat, "Swallow" He said, and you obeyed, The bitter taste coating your mouth, his hands caressing your cheek, "Good girl" he smiled at you. Before he released your jaw, your eyes looked down at the floor, before you heard him tucking himself into his pants.

Days passed,

He treated you with kindness, gifting you a rose, and caressing your back as you lay on his lap, but you managed to convince him to remove the rope around your body. He would braid your hair, comb it, and treat you like a doll. It kept on happening, you started worrying about your family if they were currently looking for you. "Coriolanus, can I visit my family, please" He stopped combing your hair, and he down at you, "Do you deserve it?" He asked, "Please" you begged, sitting up as you looked at him. He breathed out, looking away from you.

"I deserve it, you kidnapped me against my own will!" You stood and yelled, he just glared at you, as he stood up. His height towering over you, "You don't need them at all, I..can give you what you need. you don't need them" He yelled at you, grabbing your shoulder as he forced you to look up at him. "No, I never asked for you to do anything, you came up to me. You did this just to do it, Coriolanus" You yelled at him, finally using his full name instead of the nickname you gave me, you felt your cheek throbbing, his hand harshly hitting you, before he grabbed you by your shirt, "I will fucking kill you and your family if you leave me, Y/N..do you hear me" He lowered his voice, you were shaking. His eyes softened at you crying, before he held you not a hug and you held him, his hands rubbing your back, soothing you.

"Just not now, Y/N.." He whispered and kissed your forehead, you felt sick to your stomach. The next day, he apologized to you, and you were forced to accept, he covered you with kisses and love, and gifted roses.

A month passed still being caged by Coriolanus, but you got some freedom from him, but you weren't allowed to leave a tall. he had surveillance on you. He always reminds you that he loved you, did kind things with you, and surprised you with flowers like he always did. Red roses everywhere,

You stared at the window, it was fairly getting dark, and no signs of Coriolanus coming back. You wanted to escape but knowing the consequence would be horrible if you committed the act, before you heard stomping from the door, your eyes looking at the furious Coriolanus in front of you. "How many men, have you slept with Y/N" You got up from your feet, looking at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?" before you felt a sting on your cheek, "Don't play dumb with me" He yelled at you, "How many" He repeated himself, "I —none, I didn't do anything, Coriolanus" you sniffled, before he took a fist of your hair, pulling you towards him, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N" He growled, "I'm not lying, please" He hit you a second time, this time it was worse, feeling your nose bleeding from the impact. He started dragging you to the bedroom, where he forced you to sleep, throwing you onto the mattress of the bed, you heard him taking off his belt, forcefully tying up your hands above you.

"Coriolanus, please' you screamed, kicking your legs everywhere, "Please-please, stop" you cried as he got on top of you, taking off your pants and panties in the same quick motion. Aligning himself against, before you felt himself inside of you, it was painful, horrible. He moaned against you, as he forced himself into you and out, thrusting his hips against yours, you screamed at him, hitting him on his biceps to stop.

Your screams were deaf to his ears, as he fucked himself into you, his cock tearing everything inside of you, "Please" you heaved, hitting him, his sky-blue eyes staring at you. Time passed slowly, purposely you felt, before he cummed inside of you, you screamed for him to stop and pull out but he didn't. You lay there motionless, dried tears on your cheeks and naked in front of him, "Don't touch me" you cried, flipping to the side away from him. He called your name again, but you ignored him, holding yourself, you rolled yourself into a ball and cried to yourself until you fell asleep.

When you woke up,, you didn't see Coriolanus, you looked at yourself, your bottom still exposed, a reminder of at the ordeal that happened yesterday. You stood up, putting back your underwear and your pants, before walking out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes still tired. There was something on the table, as you walked, it was a bouquet of fresh roses and a note attached to it with his handwriting.

You covered your mouth, and you fell to your knee and cried to yourself, knowing that he wouldn't let you go...the roses he gifted you are just a reminder of his torment.

🥺I’m begging you write more Jason Dean stuff your so good at writing !!

FRIDAY NIGHT

n.o.t.e.s - Yes, Ngl I still love him, even though he fucking crazy, like baeeee! <3

w.a.r. n. - unprotected sex, smut, p in the v, Jason Dean being so sexyyy, with 3 y's.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g. - Jason Dean x Fem!reader

w.c - 1.1k

It was 9 pm, on a Friday.

You were bored out of your mind, parents weren't home and your sibling was out at a sleepover. You cocked your head towards your cherry red telephone, "Calling him won't hurt" you whispered to yourself, before grabbing the handset phone from the base. It was even better that nobody was home, you got to use the landline without anyone listening into your call.

You quickly dialed Jason's number, the beeping sounds making you feel unease, but excited. Pulling the phone to your ear, as you played with the cord of the phone.

Part of you wanted him to pick up but another part of you wanted him not to, you were to anxiously to really know. You heard the phone, a noise from the line.

He picked up...

"Hello" he said, you quickly responded to him, "Hey, Jason!" you said, it came out more as a purr than casual. "What do I own to pleasure to you, Y/N" he said smoothly, his voice made you melt, and feel something wet in your lower abdomen.

"I was wondering if you could swing by my house later, and hangout, I'm bored out of my mind" you said, hugging your pillow to your chest, rubbing your legs together.

You hoped he would say yes. You needed his accompany.

"Sure" he said, you buried yourself more in your pillow, "I guess, I see you here" you said, quickly putting your phone down into the base, with a loud 'ding!'

You took a breath, you didn't know you were holding it for so long. Looking at the window that was covered by the white curtains.

You heard the doorbell ring, it was 30 mins after you called Jason, you quickly walked down the stairs, looking in the mirror, fixing your hair and your nightgown. Wait was it too weird to wear a nightgown, I mean he is your boyfriend, he would mind, right?

You opened the door, to him with a cigarette in his mouth, "Hey" you said before welcoming him into your house, closing the door behind him.

"This is nice place you got" he said before looking at you, "Your acting like you never been here before" you giggled, before leading him into your living room, sitting down, as he joined you.

"Nightgown, how scandalous" he said, looking at your hardened nipples poking out of your light nightgown. After he said that, it made you jolt, as you rubbed your thighs together, before looking away, "I thought you wouldn't mind" you said, "I don't" Jason said, before finishing his cigarette, dusting the burn end on the of the ash tray.

You felt his hand on your thigh, making you jolt from his cold hand. You slowly breathed out, biting your lip.

"Nervous?" Jason teased you, chuckling. As he leaned towards you. "No" you huffed, that was a lie. His hands creeped up towards your thighs, you looked at his hand, flickering toward him and his hand.

"Can I, princess" he whispers in your ear, your back was curved by the arm of the sofa, he was on top of you.

He slowly took off your blue panties off you. Your pussy hitting the cold air, your legs trembling. Jason held up your right leg, before he spread your pussy lips. You moaned out from your lips, the slick getting onto his hand.

"Damn, your wet already" Jason chuckled, "Did you call me just because you were bored or just horny, no parents home too" he muttered.

You put your hands on your face, nervously. "It a yes isn't it" he said, "yes" you muttered out.

"Gosh" he smirk at you, before shoving his fingers down you, making you moan on impact. He thrust his fingers into you. "J-jason" you moaned, putting your hand on his chest.

His finger hitting your G-spot. Making the body tremble, "Ahh" you moaned. He plunged his fingers into you, make you orgasm, liquids dripping off of his fingers, with slick.

Your chest heaving out, putting your head to the side, looking at Jason smug face. "Now that's a record time" he said, licking the juices from his fingers in front you.

You heard him fumbling with his belt, putting the belt around your hand tying it. "Let's remove this" Jason whisper to you, as he strip you of your nightgown, revealing your breast, your nipples getting hard.

You gulped. Jason cupped your breast together, tugging at them. Making you more wet, rubbing your legs together.

Before he stripped himself of his pants, removing his boxers, revealing his big size. Rubbing your legs together anxiously, before Jason pries your legs apart, opening them, laying them onto his shoulder.

"Ready?" he whispers to you, lining up to your pussy. "Yes" you looked away at him, before he plunged himself into you. You moaned out, putting your hand onto your mouth, trying to hide the pleasure you got from this.

His pace was badly slow, like he was trying to make you go crazy. Everytime he thrust, he always purposely avoids your G-spot, you gave him a little glare. You digged your nails in the couch.

"J-jason" you were in tears.

"Hm?" He said, giving you a smug smile.

"Faster" you whispered, "I couldn't hear you, princess" he said.

"Faster, please" you begged him, you clenched onto his cock, making him groaned.

"Since you said please" he said, not even a second later, he thrust into you with more force, making the couch creak.

The sounds of the lewd scene, made you even more wet. Giving him more access to you, he buries he face in your neck, laying love bites on it.

You moaned out from the pleasure, you were getting.

Your back curved over the ledge of the couch, as he rutted againist you. Grunting slipping out of his mouth, "J-jason" you moaned, as you bit your lip, rolling your eyes as he tilted your body, fucking you further.

"What is it princess" he teased, biting your nipple, clenching onto his cock. "I'm close" you whined, putting your legs around his body.

"Good, cum on my dick" he moaned, biting onto your collarbone. You cried out, as he pumped into you more, before you saw white.

Liquid seeped out of cunt, as he thrust further into the area you didn't even know you had. Your body trembled, he thrust into a few more, before pulling out and cumming onto your stomach.

"Fuck" he hissed, your body still trembling, your legs feeling like jelly.

You looked at the mess between your legs, "S-shit I need to clean before my parents come back" you squeaked out before Jason pressed you back on the couch.

"Before you clean it, round two?" he gave you a smug smile.

Who want to request some fiyero fics?!

goverment hooker..

a/n: I'm back again, there is no surprise. I'm feeling devious so I might post again, wowzers. Also, the sped-up version of the government hooker sound so fire, like it feels like I'm in one of those edits, anyways lemme stop rambling. I hope y'all enjoy, reblogs, and comments will be also appreciated.

warning: smut, penetrating, p in the v, unprotected sex, creampies. proofread (?)

pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x reader

word counter: 1.4k

What appeals to you to most men, maybe it was your cute antics, your siren eyes that attracted anyone toward you, or your body, sculpted with your delicate curves, and a perky bosom to match the appeal of your young face that can lull a man to sleep.

Or was it how you talked, deliberately making a slur of your words, with your ribboning voice, that can make anyone feel safe and warm with you. You fooled some powerful men, their hearts were already tainted and covered in greed, easy to control someone with their needs. You were in command of it, you made them your pawn, you played the cards, and made a charade of it.

Every time you talked or did anything, you automatically moved your chess piece forward never back. But..what were you doing in a low district as a 'prestigious' woman like yourself, doing in the slum like this. Well, these 'slums' they would call, these 'desperate streets' were your home, even though you won't admit with your own mouth, your words, it still was your home...

Trying to lift yourself from the slums called your homes, to a place where it is much safer than here, maybe to Capitol, but you would need a ticket in. They wouldn't allow just anyone, would they?

But here you were standing in a speakeasy, in a tight little red dress, with a lacey red lining. It was odd to see polished women like you in a bar in District 12, you looked like you were for the Capitol, but all things you see and hear aren't what it seemed. Drinking up on the cheap liquor they offered, looking at the scene in front of you with the happy and dancing couples on the floor, as live music played. The 'Covey' they called them, and the main star, Lucy Gray. Staring at the stage, as she sang into the mic, playing her guitar.

She was familiar to you, the only reference you saw was when she was fighting in the Hunger Games, it was a surprise seeing her still living, breathing, and standing up there, but needless to say, she was still good at what she did. You waving your body to the relaxing music, fixing yourself on the stool, swaying to the music. "What is a lady like you sitting in here" You turned your head to the gentleman talking to you, staring at him.

"I'm just sitting here, enjoying the show," You said, taking a sip of the alcoholic liquid, "How about you" you tilt your head to the side.

"Just enjoying my show" He gestured to your form, and you giggled at his compliment as he sat on the stool beside you. You really got to see the man that was next to you. He had a handsome face and a chiseled face, he wore a blue open-collar shirt and a blondish-white buzz cut, He seemed like one of those Peacekeepers lurking around the district. "Do you do this every girl you see?" You were amused by the blonde man who sat beside you. You wouldn't lie that he was indeed attractive in your eyes. Scanning his frame, his body, his face. "Not to every woman, but to the ones that look beautiful like you my dear" You couldn't help to smile at him, "━And your not bad-looking as well" You admitted, crossing your legs together. As you deliberately lean towards him, revealing a white lacey bra.

Pouting your lips together, "An attractive man indeed" giving him a sultry look, with your eyelids drooping down slightly. "So, what is your name, handsome" You took a sip from your drink, "Coriolanus.." He took your hand and kissed it, "Y/N" you smirked taking your hand gently away from him,

"Should we..take our business elsewhere for a private scene?" You whispered into his ear with a suggested look on your face.

Your hands were with his as you walked in the night street, your body already feeling hot. "Where are we going?" He was amused with your antics, as you batted your eyes at him, "A place, special" you gave him a smirk, your heels clicking down on the wet cement road. A neon sign coming into view, a little motel still opened near the bar. As you opened the door, walking down the lobby of the motel, the clerk managing the reception, "A room for one" The clerk nodded his head, and gave you the keys, "room 9" He said, as you walked away with his hand with yours. Your hips sway sensually, your heels stepping into the room and opening it.

Turning yourself on your heels, stepping closer to the man, "So..what are we going to do?" You pouted, your eyes dilating feeling the feeling of being aroused.

Feeling his hands on your lower bottom, as you hoof your legs around his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck, as you both leaned into a kiss, feeling his hands groping your body. Feeling him moving, as he withdrew from you, your chest heaving. "You do know how to make a man crazy, don't you" He groaned, Feeling him putting your body onto the bed gently,

His body touching you recklessly, his hands going under your dress, slowly taking off your red lacey panties, discarding it on the floor. Biting your lip down in excitement, crossing your legs together covering yourself. Staring at him, taking off his pants and his boxers, feeling yourself getting aroused, as your cunt pulsed.

As his dick sunk into you, the pain writhing through your body, feeling the pain in your lower abdomen. Feeling your cheeks getting flushed, as you groaned in pain. His hips push into you, slowly before increasing his pace.

The bed rocked with your back on the bed, your skirt flipped and your legs being held up with his arms. Your sinful moans came out of your lips, his cock splitting your open, as you bit your lip down. His hands massaging your waist down, "F-fuck" stuttering out of your lips, your lipstick already messed up, smeared on your cheeks.

Your skin felt sticky, your lacey dress sticking onto your skin. "C-corio—" You were cut off from his hips smacking into your pelvis, your hands gripping on the sheet, holding down for support, leaning back in pleasure and relief, feeling a rush of pleasure.

Your slick lubricating his dick, makes him slip inside you easier. Your face burning up, fixing your legs on his around his waist. Your cunt clenching down around him making him groan in your ear. Feeling lips and your crashing into each other, into a hungry kiss. His tongue abused your mouth, making you moan against him, before you withdrew for air, your chest heaving, up and down.

Feeling his cock reaching to your cervix, "Hmm" You whined, your eyelids getting droopy in the process, feeling his slender fingers rubbing the nub of your clit, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, "Corio, I'm sensitive" You whined, his hips grinding onto yours, with his unrelenting pace, arching your back. His hands on your hips tilting up, plummeting into you.

"Don't be greedy, darling" He asserted, harshly rubbing on your clit, making you scream in bliss. His body leaning toward you, his dick still throbbing inside of you, making you go crazy. His mouth sucked onto your flesh, as the blooming mark left your neck.

Your body getting overstimulated, as your body trembled, skin prickling and your cunt dripping out.

Feeling a wave crashing down on you, clenching down around his cock. The pace of his hips getting slower, feeling his hands on your waist, gripping down making you wince. "I'm close" He groaned into your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs, "Inside" you mewled, feeling his hips stuttering against yours. His dick pulsed inside of you, as he thrust into you one more last time, painting your walls white, as your cunt fluttered around him. Your body feeling tired.

Falling down on the bed. Feeling his warm essence leaking out of you, feeling himself still inside you. "Don't leave...please" You whimpered, feeling his soft lips on your lips, before he withdrew, looking at him, pursing your lips gently. His hands lift your chin up, "I have to.." He looked at your lips, scanning your face. Taking your appearance from your smeared lipstick to your ruined makeup, before he drew you into another kiss, a longer, more passionate one. For the first time feeling your heart swell with a man you slept with once at a bar, "Please.." you said, breathlessly.

"I'll be back" he gently traced the shape of your lips with his finger, his voice was tender to your ears, lulling you to an endless abyss. As drowsiness took over your body, your eyes shut and closed.

NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 

 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours. 

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown. 

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 

“P-President…” 

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong. 

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

Yo wtf, why did Victoria death was so anticlimactic, wtf butcher got tentacles, I thought he had lasers and wait wasn't he on his death bed, HELLO. I need a alter ego like Joe Kessler.

But why was Victoria death giving stranger things?!

☆ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

☆ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. (Let's pretend that Vecna died.)

☆ Words : 1,229

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What they called the Upside is what you call a hell hold; right now, you were with Eddie and Dustin; you guys were inside the upside-down version of Eddie's trailer, back to back, holding homemade versions of weapons.

Spears and shields, you would think of never thought of this predicament, especially if it involved your siblings; you should have never admitted to this.

But now, you guys were scared out of your boots, waiting for the time of the human-eating, probably starving bats were outside, finding a way inside.

You really thought it was clear, and rested your tensed-up shoulder, they found a way to the vent on the roof. They were starving, there were hissing, all you ran towards the vent and started stabbing them with your spears.

"Why did I admit to this" you groan in regret.

"..I have no idea," Eddie muttered

You looked at him, annoyed at his answer,

"..Aren't you my boyfriend? Shouldn't you be giving me reasons I came at least!" you grumbled, looking away from him.

"Can't you think for yourself, Y/N? You are a big girl now!" he smiled at you.

"Are you calling me fat?" crossing your arms.

After what he said, you guys started arguing, like if it wasn't enough, you were in the world of monsters.

"Uh, guys!" Dustin whispered and yelled.

You and Eddie were still arguing and ignoring Dustin; it made you angry at the fact he had the nerve to say that.

"GUYS!" Dustin yelled out, which caught your and Eddie's attention,,

"What!" you guys said in sync.

"A-are there any more vents or openings in here" Dustin stuttered, looking around.

"Shit," Eddie grumbled and ran to the nearest vent, but it was too late, the bats were flooding into the room.

The next thing you hear is a loud slam from the door, "We need to go." Eddie yelled

The next thing you can remember is being near the gate to the human world(?); Dustin was the first to climb the binding rope, then it was your turn; you did hesitate; something inside you felt like something terrible was going to happen.

"Please don't do anything stupid, Eddie," you told him and climbed the rope, landing on the mattress. You looked up at the gate and anxiously waited for Eddie; something was etched on Dustin's face.

"...Eddie!" you yelled,

"Eddie, what are you doing?" Dustin yelled

He never came down; the next thing you heard made your heart drop.

"I'm going to buy us some time" he yelled out

"..Is he serious."

Dustin had a scared look on his face, "Dustin, can you pass me a chair" you yelled.

"What are you doing? ....What do I tell Lucas if you don't make it back."

"Don't question me, boy, pass me the damn chair" you looked at him with a piss-off expression.

He complied with your request, and you jumped into that shitty hell hold. '..And I told him not to do anything fucking stupid." you grumbled,

The fall wasn't too good, you landed on your legs if it wasn't the worse thing ever. You didn't see Eddie anywhere, this worried you.

If this wasn't the worse thing, the bats had to be the worse thing, they were there too. You ran outside and close the door so fast, that a cheetah would be jealous.

You looked around, couldn't see anything but you did see something missing, a bike. 'He didn't, not on my watch", you started running faster than you did before, faster than you did track, faster than you could ever think your body could move.

Thank the heaven above that he was still alive but wasn't doing too good. You didn't stop running though, even if you were in heat of danger you just need to stop him from this suicidal task.

You pacing yourself, and run to Eddie, pushing him over from getting his head removed.

"What the hell was that Eddie" you yelled at him.

He didn't answer you or didn't seem too interested in what you had to say, "..Did you know what you just did, Eddie. Your head almost fucking came off, you have cuts everywhere" you screamed letting your anger out.

That must have been the final straw for him because he came with the same energy.

"You know what I did, I have been running my whole fucking life, Y/N. I just wanted to seek some time of redemption I was looking for my whole, life at least not dying a fucking coward for once" he yelled, you have never seen this side of Eddie, the angry side.

Tears slowly stain your face, "Y-you could have died, you know that" you yelled in anger.

"Y-you could have died", "Eddie...I won't know what to do without you, ed" you caress his face.

"..Y/N.."

"..I'm sorry" Eddie dejected

"You shouldn't be; I should be sorry.", Soon, you and Eddie shared a passionately kiss. But the danger wasn't cleared at least yet. The enemy was near.

"We gotta go, Eddie," you whispered; you ripped off a piece of your shirt and wrapped it onto Eddie's wound, "This will hurt" you pressed the fabric onto his wound, at least stopping the blood flow.

You hauled him onto your back and held onto his legs, trying to run but couldn't because damn, who knew he weight that much. You managed to get him back to the trailer, but the hardest part for getting him out.

"Dustin can you catch something heavy" you yelled out the gate

"I guess so, why"

"Just get prepared"

You got Eddie's body into the human world; now it's just you.

To summarize, you both managed to make it alive; you did have to hesitate to get him to hospital with the allegations of him being a satanist, but you had to you couldn't see him in pain.

☆ Time Skip

To summarize, Eddie lived even with the wound on his stomach; Eddie made an arrest for the counts of Chrissy's death and the deaths of others but managed to be not guilty of the counts of murder throughout Hawkins. He also beat the satanist allegations and rumors around Hawkins and earned compensations in the law of justice, it seems too good to be accurate, but you were happy to see Eddie not having to hide. The good part is that you and Eddie got to graduate from Hawkins. Eddie's career as being rockstar flourished, and his band became a lot popular, gaining a lot of fans. Needless you were happy.

You went to college, and Eddie didn't, but he still supported your life choices.

☆ 5 years later

You and Eddie decided to move out of Hawkins to go to California and move into a Spanish Mediterranean architecture home. The future for you and Eddie was bright; you guys spend all your time together when he is not on tour. You guys really enjoyed hangout and being together.

Needless to say, you were thrilled Eddie popped the question and proposed to you. You had a small, little cute wedding. Then, not even a week later, you got pregnant and had beautiful twins, one boy, one girl.

It felt like a dream to live with the love of your life; you guys were like partners in crime, two peas in a pod, and most special soulmates. :D

_______________________________________________

Hello! Do you have a link to the art you used on your post? https://www.tumblr.com/tonixe/719665810999738368/upper-moons-with-a-gf-who-is-stronger-than?source=share

The original post was on twitter but I just found it on pinterest.

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Crocodile Tears

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader

You and Coryo are academy students who were both selected to mentor tributes in the Hunger Games. Coryo becomes competitive and refuses to realize that his unreturned affections have begun to affect his performance. Frustrated by what he perceives to be you leading him on, Coryo delves deeper into his obsession and eventually gives in to the desires he tried so hard to deny.

Warnings: noncon, oral (m!recieving), forced sex, Reader loses her virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, slight breeding kink, choking, slapping, degradation, slut shaming, misogyny, coryo is delusional and crazy (so basically in character lol), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Coriolanus’ palms were slick with perspiration as he flexed his hands anxiously.

Every noise in the room seemed amplified, his heart was beating so hard in his chest he was shocked his classmates couldn’t hear it.

Each name that Dean Highbottom read off that wasn’t his own was more painful than the last.

“Y/N Y/L/N!”

His head swiveled to look at you as you rose, pride written across your face at the confirmation of your place in the class.

The sounds of the applause filled the atrium and the classmates seated beside you congratulated you. After all, they were all within the top 4, districts that had much higher chances of winning the Games.

“Miss Y/L/N, you are assigned the District 4 girl, Coral.”

“Thank you!” You beamed, graciously accepting your place near the top.

Coriolanus’ face felt hot as he glared at you, toxic competitiveness rising in his chest.

It’s not like you were all that much better than him, you were a teachers pet and everyone knew it. Always kissing up to them and being so apologetic whenever you made even the most minor mistake.

It made him nauseous.

Not to mention the fact that there had been rumors that you had given a few favors to professors along the way in return for better grades.

He definitely believed it too.

Despite the sweet front you put up, Coryo just didn’t buy it. He had seen you in too many classes, it seemed like you were always stressed and complaining about school, despite getting top marks in almost every class.

The blond had spent many hours in class just staring at you, watching you pay attention in class and ask questions. He often found himself studying your face more frequently than he was studying his class work. Every facial expression that you made irked him to the core.

Each blank look you gave after being called on when you weren’t following along or the frustrated way you creased your eyebrows together was further proof that you didn’t belong at the same level as him.

But even more obnoxious was when you were right in class, which was a lot of the time. He hated the way your face lit up when you were told you were correct or the way you eagerly asked questions or got lost talking about a subject you found interesting.

He wondered who your family was, your last name wasn’t familiar but you had always seemed well off enough. Maybe your parents had bribed someone to keep you afloat? Or maybe the rumors were true, maybe you had been passing your classes just based off of your looks and extra time put in at their office hours.

It didn’t add up to him.

It wasn’t fair. His classmates were a bunch of idiots, so far below him they couldn’t even realize it. Even Sejanus, whose name had already been called, was much more insignificant than him.

So why hadn’t his name been called yet?

“Coriolanus Snow!”

His heart stopped at the sound of his name, blood rushing in his ears as he stood up.

He didn’t even know which district he was being called for.

“Runt girl, district 12, belongs to you.”

His stomach dropped when he heard the number.

12?? Could there be a bigger slap in the face? It couldn’t be right. He thought that he was better than that, he knew that he was better than that.

But he bit his tongue, metaphorically and literally, tasting the rush of blood in his mouth as he clenched his jaw, glancing at the screen as he watched the dark haired girl walk up to the reaping platform.

“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Coryo’s classmates snickered behind him.

He saw her reach behind her back before dropping a snake down the dress of a red headed woman in the crowd.

The students in the hall around him began to chatter loudly in disbelief.

Lucy Gray walked up the steps of the reaping platform only to be punched by a man at the front of the stage. A peacekeeper swarmed in, pulling him away from the fallen songbird.

Coryo couldn’t take his eyes off of the district girl, surprised when she approached the microphone at the front of the stage and began to sing.

Her voice cut through the crowd of the audience in District 12 and the academy hall, filling the space entirely.

“Nothing you can take from me

Was ever worth keepin'

Nothing you can take

Was ever worth keepin'

Can't take my charm

Can't take my humor

You can't take my wealth

'Cause it's just a rumor

Nothing you can take

Was ever worth keepin'

You can't take my sass

You can't take my talkin'

You can kiss my ass!”

At the last line, madness broke out around him as the students and laughter and shouts filled the hall.

Whispered inquires and pointed looks were tossed Coriolanus’ way, but he paid no attention to them. No, his gaze was locked on you, still seated and appearing to be lost in thought.

How badly he wished he had access to what you were mulling over. Perhaps strategy to help your tribute win? Maybe you were comparing your tribute to the others. Or maybe… he contemplated, dark thoughts crossing his mind.

Maybe you were plotting a way to get his sickly tribute eliminated early on, so he would have no chance at the Plinth prize at all.

Maybe you were laughing at him in your head because he was at the very bottom of the list, despite how much more he believed he deserved your spot than you did.

Blind rage began to clutch at his heart and lungs. He was certain that you were looking down on him, pitying him.

He was stuck with some district 12 song bird, while you got a career killer.

Now your chances of winning the Plinth prize was even higher. Despite all the reassurances from their professors, Coryo knew that winning the games played a factor in their decision, and the odds were very much not in his favor.

The academy mentors all stood, filing out of the hall, each of them excitedly talking about their tributes.

Coryo scanned for your face and he was a bit surprised to see that you still looked troubled. There was a frown on your face as your classmates discussed why they thought their tributes were going to either win the Games or die in the first five minutes.

You almost looked sad, but why would you be? You had a career tribute, one that was almost guaranteed to do well in the Games and likely curry plenty of favor and popularity from the Capital.

The blond scoffed at you, thinking back to his underfed, musician of a tribute and he cringed. He deserved what you had, the success that you had achieved should have been his own.

He was ripped from his thoughts, ears perking up when he heard you speak.

“I think I’m going to go visit my tribute once she gets to the Capital. I mean, don’t they practically ship them over here in cages? They’re probably exhausted by the time they arrive, that’s no shape to win the Games in. And besides, they’re humans too, don’t they deserve a little kindness before going to their deaths?”

The genuineness in your voice made him pause, was it possible you actually cared for these district scum? But when he looked into your eyes, there was no glimmer of mischievousness, no sign of a sinister master plan.

Coryo wasn’t even quite sure what compelled him to speak because before he could realize what he was doing, he was offering to accompany you to the train station.

Your head swiveled to his, eyebrows knotting in confusion as you regarded him. “Oh, really Coriolanus? I didn’t realize you saw the people from the districts as anything more than animals?” You snickered, referencing some of his previous comments in class.

Coryo’s face felt hot and he was sure his cheeks were growing red. He clenched the fists that were resting by his side before taking a breath to calm himself. He wasn’t going to let you embarrass him in front of his classmates.

“I got stuck with district 12, I’m gonna need to take any opportunity I can to push her over the finish line. Someone’s gotta give that girl a meal. And like you said, they’re human, just like us.” Coryo’s response shocked him even as his mouth formed the words. Words he didn’t truly believe.

It was funny, he thought to himself, if he had heard Sejanus say the same, his eyes probably would have rolled out of his head.

It had never even occurred to him to go visit his tribute. Coryo didn’t really care all that much whether she lived or died, but for some strange reason, if going to visit Lucy Grey meant that he could spend a little extra time with him, Coryo would have said anything to tag along.

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, surprised when you saw him in a light you never had before. “Do you really mean that?”

Your naivety was almost charming and Coriolanus flashed you a kind grin before nodding. It was adorable how easily you accepted his lies.

The short walk to the train station was uneventful. You seemed reluctant to speak with him, no doubt put off by some of the past comments Coryo had made about the districts.

If you weren’t going to talk or even, at the very least, look at him, Coriolanus decided he could spend the time studying you. He had never spent this much time with you, aside from in his classes.

He had never realized how nice you smelled, like lavender and honey, and he was having trouble remembering just why he disliked you so much, when your voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“I can’t remember, do we turn on this street or the next?” Your timbre was soft and sweet, it reminded him of his mother’s.

“It’s this one,” he responded, a memory of going to the trains frequently in his childhood in the hopes that his father would be coming back home from the districts pushed it’s way into the forefront of his thoughts.

The two of you walked in silence, and then stood in silence for over an hour while you waited for the train to come. When it finally pulled into the station, your respective introductions to the tributes were hurried. The Peacekeepers quickly ushered them away from the station before herding them towards a truck.

Coriolanus was ready to call it a day after meeting Lucy Grey at the station, put off by their strange interaction, do people from the districts regularly eat rose petals, he thought to himself with a chuckle.

So he was more than a little surprised when he saw you approaching the caged trucks filled with the tributes.

“Y/N?” He loudly whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I want to know where they take them, plus we could both get more time with our tributes,” you explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Coryo felt a pang of anger rise in him at you patronizing him.

“Well I knew that,” he responded, trying to cover for himself. “But don’t you think we should be more careful?”

But you didn’t even hear him, already climbing into the back of the truck that your tribute had disappeared into. Coryo knew that he couldn’t let you go all alone, what if those tributes hurt you? Or worse, what if you getting more time with your tribute right now could be the thing that won you the Plinth prize over him?

Before he was given the chance to really think it over, he found his legs moving him forward and he jumped into the truck behind you.

Despite how soon the Games were, Coryo found himself struggling to focus his thoughts on ways to help his tribute.

You had been the only thing that Coriolanus Snow could think about the past twenty-four hours.

He had tried very hard to think it over, and he had come to the conclusion that he had never met someone who could irk him so deeply.

Coriolanus had forgotten all about his lie to you that he was going to bring Lucy Grey food after meeting her at the train, but he was shocked when you pulled several sandwiches out of your bag. Apparently, you had been planning to offer food to any tribute that would take it.

It was an idiotic move if Coryo had ever seen one. I mean, why in the world would you think that feeding every tribute would do anything but hinder your own?? Now they would all be going into the stadium with semi-full stomachs.

Still, at least that meant that he had been able to feed his sad excuse of a tribute.

It was impossible for him to focus on Lucy Grey while you could be out there pulling another stunt to propel yourself towards the Plinth prize. Of course you already had it so easy with the tribute you were assigned.

Coryo’s mind could not shut off, racing a hundred miles an hour towards the same thought over and over and over again.

He had to do something about you.

You and your tribute were too much of a threat to him. Coriolanus needed to win the Plinth prize, and he knew that you were the biggest threat standing in his way.

There had to be some way that he could give Lucy Gray another advantage without being caught.

The addition of the drones providing food and water was good, but not good enough. And he had only given her enough rat poison in his mother’s compact to kill two tributes, or seriously injure four.

Dr. Gaul loved his proposal for the games, it was just such a shame that Clemmie had to try to take the credit for herself.

With a flash, Coriolanus sat up in his bed, an idea striking him like a lightning rod. He walked to the closet where his jacket was hung up and he grabbed the handkerchief he had given to dry Lucy Gray’s tears.

After quickly trekking across the city to Dr. Gaul’s laboratory, thoroughly pleased when the guards let him through to tell them he was there to see her, he headed to her laboratory, knowing full well that she had already left for the day about 2 hours ago.

Planting the handkerchief was easy, walking out without being questioned by the guards was easier.

With his head held high, Coriolanus swiftly made his way back to his apartment.

However, his euphoria wore off quickly when he remembered that even if he could protect Lucy Grey from the snakes, he had no way to protect her from the career tributes.

Coryo wondered what you had been telling to Coral, what strategies you were instructing her to follow. Maybe you told her to pick out the weakest links first, which would include that sickly tribute from 11, the young girl from 8, and Coriolanus’ songbird.

It made him feel sick, and he was happy that his father wasn’t around to witness his inevitable spectacular failure.

It just wasn’t fair at all. How had he been placed at dead last, while the dumbest girl that he knew probably had a 1-in-4 chance of winning the games.

Rage boiled inside of him, keeping him awake for hours as he tossed and turned in his bed, and he cursed you for costing him precious sleep at a time like this.

For reasons he couldn’t figure out, Coriolanus’ thoughts were fixated not on the Games, not on his tribute, and not even on his growling stomach.

No, he just could not stop himself from wondering, and picturing, whose cock you had to suck to get that spot.

The games were horrific, of course. Despite having seen them nine times at this point, you still felt so queasy when the first canon shot off and the tributes ran from their platforms.

You could barely stomach watching, even though you knew that you needed to if you wanted your tribute to survive.

After the initial bloodbath, the number of tributes was effectively cut in half. Surprisingly, Coriolanus’ tribute had been holding her own, but so was yours.

Each fallen tribute stung you, knowing that they were all just innocent kids, none of them were old enough to fight in the rebellion against the capital, and if you had been born in the districts, that could have easily been you in that arena.

You were sure that was heavy on Sejanus’ mind too.

The hours and days blurred together, your stomach was in knots as you lay in bed each night, hoping that no tributes would die as you slept.

The first day you returned, on the second day of the games, there had been a death in the arena overnight, the District 8 kid, Bobbin. None of the cameras had captured what occurred, and none of the tributes made mention of killing him.

Each day that you returned and found your tribute alive, you thanked your lucky stars. Coral was very strong and cunning and you felt very lucky that you had received such a good tribute assignment.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself but worry about Lucy Grey and her mentor. Lucy’s song had genuinely moved you during the tribute interviews and you felt very sad at the idea that your tribute’s victory would mean Lucy Grey’s death.

Coriolanus genuinely had surprised you when he followed you to the train station, you hadn’t expected him to care at all about his tribute outside of what her winning would mean for him.

He was scrappy and you had to give him that. Perhaps there was a side to him that you hadn’t considered before.

Although, you still were wary about keeping him at arms length, the way that he had talked about the districts in your class rubbed you the wrong way, especially when you knew that Sejanus, his best friend, was from the very same districts Coriolanus trash talked.

You were less than amused at some of the actions he took throughout the game. After discovering that the arena water drones were primitive at best, and likely to slam into whatever they targeted, when your tribute and several other cornered Lucy Grey, Coriolanus called in several drones that smashed into your tribute and the others, allowing Lucy Grey to flee to safety.

“He can’t do that! It’s cheating!” You fumed furiously, hoping that Dr. Gaul or the other officials would listen to you.

“I’m just sending them water,” he smirked back at you and you fumed. And in the end, nothing was done to punish him.

More tributes fell, some meeting more gruesome deaths than others, but your tribute was still doing very well.

The days dragged on tortuously, but the final day was the worst of all.

The tributes had all moved from the sewers and into the main arena area, before Dr. Gaul announced her intentions to drop the snakes into the arena following the rebel bombing of the arena before the games and the death of the President’s son.

The snakes erupted into the arena, easily taking out the remaining tributes until only Lucy Grey and Coral were left, vying to stay alive, trying to attack each other

As the snakes slithered over both of them, Lucy Grey began to sing.

Coral was overtaken by the colorful serpents, but for some reason, Lucy Grey didn’t met the same fate.

“Why aren’t they attacking her??” You questioned.

“I think it’s the singing!” Coriolanus responded and you narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a strange suspicion growing in the back of your mind.

Dr. Gaul had clearly not expected the academy students to react so strongly to Lucy Grey’s performance, her voice captivated everyone in the hall, even you.

“Dr. Gaul, please!” Coriolanus implored her again, and to your surprise, the rest of the students in the hall began to chant.

“Stop the games! Stop the games! Stop the games!”

She clearly knew when she was outnumbered, and she stared at the screen as the snakes crawled over Lucy Grey with a sour look on her face before finally conceding. “Get her out of there!”

Lucy Grey was announced the winner of the 10th Hunger Games, and although you were happy that she had survived, there was a nagging feeling that Coriolanus hadn’t won the games fair and square.

How had Lucy Grey survived the snakes? Where did she get the poison she used to kill Dill? Was it fair that Lucy Grey would have been dead by Coral’s hands had Coriolanus not stepped in and launched the water drones at the career tributes?

The celebrations in the capital among the students after the games lasted several hours, going well into the night.

You had stuck around for most of it, but you found it hard to celebrate Coriolanus’ win.

Because you knew that he hadn’t won fair and square. And the more you thought it over, the more it began to piss you off. You decided that you needed to leave the party, opting to head back to the Games control room you had been in the last several days to see if you could rewatch some footage.

Coriolanus hadn’t seen you in a couple hours, and he couldn’t figure out why that upset him. After all, hadn’t you raised a stink about him using the drones during the Games? If anyone had given your words any merit, he could have been penalized, or maybe even disqualified.

Maybe it was a good idea to try to find you and make sure that you wouldn’t say anything else about it.

When he couldn’t find you at the party, he headed to the Academy, searching through rooms until he found you seated alone, reviewing the games in the control room.

“Funny finding you here.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, surprised when you whirled around and saw Coriolanus.

“Coriolanus,” you breathed. Why did you suddenly feel so anxious to see him? Could he know that you had suspicions about him? “Why aren’t you still out celebrating?”

“To be honest, I was looking for you.” He admitted, taking a step forward and allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

“You were?” You asked, heartbeat picking up at the sound of the door closing. Coriolanus walked further into the room, eyes locked on you.

“I just.. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened during the games, it wasn’t my intention at all for that water to hit your tribute and her teammates.” You could tell that he was trying to put as much charm on as possible, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were being lied to. “I’m sorry that Coral died in the end.”

“Bullshit.” The words came out of your mouth before you could think them over.

The blond’s eyebrows raised in surprise, jaw clenching as he realized you weren’t buying it. He advanced further, now only a couple feet away from you, and you took a step back. He was now so close that he could smell your familiar floral scent.

You didn’t know why he was trying to get closer to you, but you knew that you really didn’t want him to, continuing to back away from him as he followed.

“You don’t get to just cheat and get away with it. We both know that those snakes should have killed Lucy Grey.”

“You think that I don’t deserve the Plinth prize?” The smell of lavender and honey was clouding his thoughts. Why did you always smell so good?

“Coriolanus I never said-”

“No!” he cut you off, moving closer, and you were surprised when you backed into a wall, feeling intimidated by, and maybe even a bit afraid of, Coriolanus Snow for the first time. Before this moment, you had never really noticed how much taller he was than you. Sure he may have been underfed, but you couldn’t help but notice the muscles that strained the fabric near his biceps and shoulders as he towered above you. “I work harder than everyone else here, and what do I get most of the time? Scraps! All you have to do is cry once in class and every professor would line up to fuck you, and yet you still never took me seriously, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows shot up at his harsh words, frustration building in your chest. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, even though you could feel a lump forming in your throat and tears began to blur your vision. You couldn’t understand what his problem was with you, why he seemed to hate you so much. The snippy retort you had planned died on your lips when you saw his eyes darken.

“What? It’s not like it’s not true. Everyone has heard the rumors about your good grades. The only reason your tribute got as far as she did was because she was District 4!” His words were taunting, cruel even, and you hated the way he was looking down at you, as if you were nothing to him. Despite how furious he was with you in this moment, he couldn’t help but fixate on the scent of your perfume, it was clinging to the air and choking him, taunting him.

“I can’t believe this, I helped you out through the entire games! It was my idea to visit the tributes! I let you give my food to Lucy Grey! You know, there was a voice in the back of my head, Coriolanus, a voice that I tried to ignore, but I knew all along that letting you come with me to meet them was a bad idea!” Your harsh words stung him, and a fire was building inside his chest. He didn’t know why your anger towards him was affecting him so much.

“The only reason Lucy Gray won was because you cheated and everyone is going to find out-!” You were cut off when his large hand grabbed your throat, pushing you against the wall behind you and constricting your airflow. Your eyes widened, and Coriolanus thought to himself that he enjoyed the utter fear and panic in your eyes.

“You’re right,” he looked down at you, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips. “I never would have thought to go to visit the tributes. Because of your idea, I was able to turn the spotlight on to Lucy Grey instead of you.”

Suddenly he realized why he had been so fixated on you for so long, why he had been so eager to follow you to the train station the day of the tribute assignments, why his thoughts torturously lingered on the smell of your perfume and the way your hair framed your annoyingly perfect face, and why he got hard as a rock every time he imagined you pleasuring your professors to pass your classes.

All his life, Coriolanus had been desperately searching for control. After the rebels took everything from him, he had spent his childhood and teenage years powerless. Even Lucy Gray couldn’t completely be his, they said she was going to be shipped back to District 12 after the Games, but Coriolanus was sure he would never see her again. You had been handed everything that he had ever wanted, save the Plinth prize.

Maybe, the Plinth prize hadn’t been what he was after all along, he realized with a shock. Coriolanus hadn’t spent all those hours obsessing over you because he believed he was owed the Plinth prize. He had done it because he believed he was owed you.

Fear had your feet frozen in place, your body felt paralyzed. Was he going to hurt you or, worse, kill you??

The very last thing that you expected Coriolanus Snow to do in that moment was kiss you.

With his strong hand practically crushing your windpipe and pinning you in place, you had nowhere to turn when he pressed his lips to yours. His lips were warm, and softer than anyone else you had kissed, which was a horrible thing to notice in a situation like this.

You struggled against him, trying to shove him off of you to no avail, and the hand at your throat tightened. When you gasped for breath, Coryo took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. The feeling stirred something between your legs, a warmth began to dampen the panties you were wearing beneath your skirt, and your cheeks heated up in tandem, a hot flush breaking out across your face.

Tears began to prick at your eyes, and you let them gather there, foolishly hoping that if they could blot out the man in front of you, he might just go away.

Within a moment, your brain began to work again and you used your nails to scratch at the hand at your throat, breaking free at last. Your reprieve was much too brief, no sooner than the hurried “help!” fell past your lips, the blond struck you across the face, shocking you into silence again.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to hurt you, do you understand?” He hissed in your ear, not giving you any time at all before pulling you away from the wall by your neck and then forcing you to your knees in front of him. “No one else is here, they’re all out celebrating my victory.”

You winced at the sharp pain in your kneecaps, but more alarming was the look on your classmate’s face. You had always thought that Coriolanus held himself with dignity, that he was maybe even handsome, but this was a side of Coryo you had never seen before. His hair was disheveled from pushing you around, and his breath came in fast, uneven bursts. There was a deadly glint in his eyes that terrified you. He was clearly amused by your frightened state, the way his eyes drank you in pityingly did nothing to calm your nerves.

“You’re going to show me how you passed your classes all these years, Y/N,” Coryo sneered, laughing mirthlessly at his joke. To your horror, he brought his hands to his belt, undoing the buckle before unzipping the fly of his pants.

Your stomach dropped, shame blossoming through your entire body.

The honest truth was that you were a virgin.

You had never given any professors sexual favors or used your good looks to advance further than your classmates. Yes, you sometimes struggled with concepts in class, but you more than made up for it with after school study sessions and the frequent office hour with the academy professors. But you had never done anything close to what he was suggesting.

And yet, here you were, forced to your literal knees, all because Coriolanus Snow was jealous of something that had never happened.

You were pulled from your thoughts with a light slap on the cheek, not intended to hurt you that much, just enough to put you on edge again and get your attention. He was starting to get impatient.

His hard cock was thrust towards your face, and you were surprised and intimidated by how big he was. Coryo’s large hand wrapped around it and began to stroke himself.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” He asked gruffly, his free hand gripping your chin and forcing you to peer up at him, “you didn’t have any problem opening your pretty mouth earlier.”

Your stomach rolled at his twisted joke and you blinked more tears from your eyes before glancing away. You couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Ah there are those crocodile tears. I wonder, did you cry like this when you came into our professors’ offices after hours? ‘I don’t know how I will pass this course, please, I’d do anything.’” He mocked you, or rather the version of you in his head, with a scowl before spitting out his next words. “So fucking pathetic.”

“C-coriolanus please,” you begged him, eyes shiny with tears.

For just the briefest second, doubt about his actions tonight passed through his heart, but it was gone the next moment when he felt his cock harden at your sweet voice whimpering his name and the delicious sight of you kneeling before him. You wanted this just as bad as he did, he knew it.

Coriolanus grabbed you by your chin, pulling you even closer before guiding his cock towards your trembling lips. When you didn’t open your mouth, his fingers clenched down on your jaw, and after you cried out, he took the opportunity to tilt his hips forward, pushing the tip of his cock past your lips.

He groaned at the feeling of your soft wet mouth enveloping him. Coryo slowly thrusted his dick deeper and when you gagged on him, throat closing up after he pushed you too far, he could have sworn he was in heaven.

The blond tangled his fingers into your hair, pushing you to go faster as you bobbed up and down. He didn’t want to close his eyes for one second, drinking in every detail he could. The way you glanced up at him through your teary eyes in fear, the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, how you could barely take all of his throbbing dick into your mouth, and the spit that gathered sloppily on your chin only drove on his pace.

There was something deeply satisfying to Coriolanus about breaking you, about shattering the idea that you were ever anything but a cock drunk whore. He knew that he had to be correct, because the evidence was right in front of him.

An innocent girl wouldn’t have led him on for so damn long. An innocent girl wouldn’t know how to take cock so well. An innocent girl wouldn’t be choking and gagging on him like one of the pin up girls he’d seen after his school buddies found their fathers’ old snuff film collections from before the war.

“You might have fooled everyone else, but you can’t trick me, Y/N,” he whispered, pulling harder on your hair and you yelped, or maybe moaned, around him, sending a sinful vibration across the tip and shaft of his cock.

“You’re doing such a good job, it’s only right I give you what you’ve wanted all along.” Coriolanus slowed his movements, using the fist in your hair to move you and let his cock slide out of your mouth. You gasped for air then, but your relief was short lived and bittersweet.

“Take off your clothes and get on your back, Y/N.” His voice was cold as snow, leaving no room for disagreement. You were terrified, completely unprepared in every way for what was coming. Coriolanus glared at you threateningly when you didn’t move for a few seconds, and resignedly, you stripped off your shirt and skirt, shifting yourself onto your back on the cold hard floor.

You already felt utterly exposed in just your bra and panties, but the look of disapproval in his eyes told you that you had to remove your underwear as well. You slowly unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms to pull it off and Coryo felt his mouth water at the sight of your perfect breasts. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, climbing on top of you before you could get to your panties, straddling you and covering your lips with his own again.

This time, he noticed that you were resisting less, even kissing him back now. He had been right, you were teasing him and leading him on this entire time! This thought both encouraged and infuriated him, and he knew there was one way to confirm his suspicions.

His hand wandered lower past your stomach, eagerly reaching for your barely covered pussy. He pushed the material of your panties to the side, slowly dragging the tip of his finger down your embarrassingly wet slit.

You tensed at the feeling, biting your lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to sneak past, and Coryo noticed your efforts.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you want it too,” he whispered above you, slowly pushing two fingers into your tight cunt. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t.”

His intrusion was painful and uncomfortable, you had never experienced anything like it. Coryo’s eyes were locked on your face as he lazily pushed his fingers in and out. His cock twitched every time you moaned, and he was eager to stuff your pretty swollen cunt.

Tears were filling your eyes again and you sniffled pathetically, shifting your hips to try to adjust to the foreign pressure between your legs, which Coryo interpreted as you trying to fuck yourself deeper onto his fingers.

“Greedy little slut, can’t wait till I split you open, hm?” He sneered cruelly and your face burned with shame. “Don’t cry, I’ll give you what you’re too proud to admit you need.”

He pulled his fingers out of your already sore pussy, smearing your juices on the soft flesh of your inner thigh, before grabbing your panties and pulling them down your legs, not caring that his force ripped them. Coryo grabbed your thighs, holding them open and pressing them down against the floor, not allowing you to squirm in his grasp, before lining his now throbbing cock up with your slick entrance.

Primal fear clutched your heart again, was this truly happening right now? How in the world did you get yourself into this situation with Coriolanus Snow of all people? Your first time was supposed to be special, shared with someone who felt love and compassion towards you.

Instead, you were utterly terrified of the man leering above you. You were surprised when you felt his hand clamp over your mouth, but you didn’t have any time to linger on that thought because Coriolanus was slowly pushing the head of his cock into your heat.

You couldn’t help but whimper against his palm at the feel of him beginning to stretch you out, and Coryo cursed under his breath when he slid deeper, feeling you squeeze tighter around each inch until he felt himself bottom out inside you. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh, giving him better leverage.

He took a moment to just bask in the feeling of you enveloping him, you were clenching around his cock so tight it was almost painful for him. He began to move his hips slowly at first, and when you let out a breathy moan at the feel, he felt confidence surge inside of him.

Coryo could literally feel you growing wetter with each thrust, allowing him to pull further out before plunging himself back in. You were gripping him so tight and your arousal only let him fuck you faster and harder. He hooked one hand under your thigh, pulling it up to wrap your leg around the back of his waist.

The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and you felt like you were being split in half, the pressure was so intense.

He slid his large hand away from covering your mouth and brought it back to your throat, wrapping the hand around it and applying pressure. You tensed around him and Coriolanus cursed at the sensation.

The blond was pushing his cock into you faster now, snapping his hips against yours at a pace that had your head spinning. Every drag of his cock against your walls made your toes curl. Coriolanus was addicted to way he could feel every moan and whimper in your throat against the hand that was choking you. Even if you wouldn’t let him hear them, he knew that he was making you feel good, whether you wanted him to or not.

His free hand creeped from your hip to find its home between your legs, earning a whine from you when he swirled the pad of his thumb across your clit. Coryo could feel you quivering around him, twitching beneath every touch.

He wanted to be closer to you still, and you flinched when his lips found yours again, his chest now pressed to yours and caging you in. You were too disgusted to kiss him back at first, but fear overtook your reservations when he clenched his hand around your throat harder. Your lips moved in time with his and you moaned against him when he rubbed your clit again.

The blond broke the kiss to attach his lips to the soft skin at the side of your neck, moving his hand to allow himself access to bite and suck at your tender flesh.

“Don’t fight it, I can feel your cunt pulling me in,” he growled in your ear and you shuddered at his words.

As his sharp thrusts rocked your frame, you realized that your cheeks were damp with tears. Had you started crying again? Maybe you had never stopped.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Coryo breathlessly admitted, to both you and himself. His eyes were fixed on your face, trying to commit every detail to memory.

“I thought you hated me,” you whimpered quietly, not sure if it was even loud enough for Coryo to hear. The whole building was silent, aside from the crude sounds of him plunging his cock into your slick folds and your stifled moans. You had almost forgotten that you had said something until he suddenly spoke.

“I thought I hated you too,” his voice was strained as he held back groans. “But then I realized how useful you could be if I kept you around.”

You already wanted to crawl out of your skin at his words, but the next thing he said made your blood turn cold.

“Did your parents pay for you to get birth control so their stupid daughter doesn’t get knocked up by her professors?” He asked you with a cruel glint in his eyes.

You understood his meaning instantly, shaking your head with widening eyes, “N-no! Coriolanus, please don’t-!” You were cut off by his hand clamping over your mouth again.

“Hmm, pity,” he taunted you, chuckling darkly, “better hope they’ll be willing to pay for an abortion.”

At this, you found your last bit of strength to fight back, scratching at the hand that was at your throat and trying to force him off of you, but your pathetic attempts only made him laugh.

Coryo’s hand clamped down around your throat, choking you harder than he had before. You could hear your heartbeat racing in your ears and the edges of your vision had started to go black.

His cock was hitting a spot that had your toes curling in unwelcome pleasure, and when you felt his fingers twitch around your throat again, the overstimulation was just too much for you.

You whined loudly as your orgasm forcefully washed over you, the tension that had been building inside you finally releasing itself. Coriolanus could feel you clenching and fluttering around him, squeezing his cock so fucking tight.

With another flex of his hips, he came, spilling his sticky seed into you as he groaned your name. You were pulsing around him, milking his cock of every last drop.

When he stilled, he stayed on top of you, finally releasing your now bruised throat. You tried to turn your head away from him, but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look in his eyes for a moment before his lips smothered yours again.

When he finally pulled away, he grinned down at you wolfishly, “fuck, Y/N. If I were one of our professors, I’d pass you too.”