Bye When Soldier Boy See Black Noir 2.0, He's Def Killing Him.

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

Do you ever think you'll do another one shot of Coriolanus? And mistress and government hooker one? Like when the reader is pregnant 🤰

Maybe, im not sure yet but sorry for not answering sooner!

you can’t sit with us

Season 5 is going to be so fucking crazy.

Hi I just wanted to say I think that your writing is magnificent and it brings me so much joy on that note I was wondering if you could do a eddie x reader where eddie has a crush on the reader and people like the basketball team or cheerleaders keep embarrassing him infront of reader so he gets completely humiliated and gos and hides somewhere to cry (you can choose the place) and reader finds him and comforts him and you can tie it all together with a confession or not but I trust you

Sorry if that made no sense or sounds stupid and you can completely ignore this idea if you want to thank you for your time 😊

FREAK'S GOT A STARING PROBLEM ━ imagine!

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie cannot stop looking at you. not for anything bad! he just thought that you are the most beautiful thing to walk on earth. but will his habit bring fortune or conflict for him? it's terrible that this freak's got a staring problem.

genre: a bit of angst? / fluff

wc: 1. 98k

note/warning: a bit of bullying and lots of curse words lol. and major tw!jason. mfs scary. also, i'm not entirely proud of this one, but i hope you enjoy!

Eddie thought that you were the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth. 

Sure, his porno magazines had some hot chicks in them, and frequently he would see the occasional actress in the movies that he would watch, but you? You seemed to beat all of them so easily with both your personality and beauty. 

It physically pained him to have this teeny-tiny crush on you. In the few classes the both of you shared together, Eddie always caught himself looking your way. He didn’t know what overcame him to possess his eyes to draw to you, but he knew the reasons could’ve been either your radiating smile or possibly, that bright light that seemed to be behind you. 

Though he frequently stared at you, however, Eddie Munson was not a perv. He could never look at you in that light, well- 

‘No.’ Eddie stops himself. He will not let his mind be dragged to that point. You were an angel graced by God, how the fuck can he even think of you in such a dirty way?

Eddie groans, finally hearing the ringing of the school bell, notifying Hawkins High that it was finally lunch. He heard the class go by around him but didn’t start packing until most of them had left. Sometimes, Eddie imagined what his life would’ve been like if he was in your high school posse. 

Athlete, cut hair, spent most of his time in training or parties. Easily having the prettiest girl in his arms. And of course, for that position, it would be you.  

Fortunately, life was kind to Eddie. Instead, he was playing one of the most brilliant games ever created, with the best people around him. He would prefer that, over throwing a ball around for an hour. With that thought, he would have to deal with the ridicules that frequented him, and most importantly, holding his feelings and looking at you from a metre away. It was fine. He could live like this. 

Eddie’s ears are infiltrated with noise as he walks through the cafeteria doors, seeing that several students have already received their lunch. He began to make his way to the lunch line, expecting to receive the most lacklustre, unappetizing meal of the day. 

After receiving a certain look from the lunch lady, Eddie mutters a ‘thanks’ and looks around to see his friends sitting at the usual table. They seem to already be deep in conversation, making Eddie feel a bit inferior because of his absence. He hopes it isn’t too important, because of course, as the leader of Hellfire, Eddie had to be there for every complaint and recommendation. 

But first, a small stop past the table he dreaded the most. 

No, Eddie wasn’t going to actually stop and talk to anyone at that table, shit, that was blasphemous at whoever cared. All he’s going to do is walk by, and catch a small, small glimpse at you. Hopefully today you were either smiling or laughing because if he was being honest, those expressions look beautiful on you. 

As he walks past, he sees you giggling a bit behind your hands, making him fail to notice how his stride begins to slow. Eddie is entranced by your laugh and smile, feeling as though a higher power somewhat blessed him today. 

Unfortunately, the devil seemed to curse him as well, seeing as he captured the attention of the prick sitting at the head of the table. 

At first, Jason was going to say something, either ‘get out of here freak’ or whatever. Until, he looks at where Eddie’s gaze was caught, tracing it back to you. An alarm goes off in his head. 

“Hey, freak!” Eddie’s head snaps to Jason, who slams his hands down on the table and stands up. Eddie’s heart begins to race. 

‘Shit!’ He thought he was being so slick! 

“You fuckin’ need somethin’?” Jason starts to make his way to him. 

“No Jason-”

“Then why are you looking at Y/N? Got a starin’ problem you need help taking care of?” The blond jams his finger into Eddie’s chest, prompting him to almost drop the lunch tray in his hands. Eddie steadies himself, almost losing his temper at the bullshit Jason was trying to pull. 

In the corner of his eye, he can see that your head was turned to him, making him a bit nervous under your gaze. 

“Listen, Jason, I don’t want anything to happen. I was just walking by.”

‘Yup, yup. Keep your cool. Gotta look swift for her.’

“Yeah Jason, he doesn’t want anything to happen,”

‘God fuck! Why do his goons have to get involved?!’

The basketball player, whom Eddie remembers to be Andy, laughs under his breath, “he doesn’t want anything to happen, to interrupt his serial killer plans. He’s probably planning to kill our whole fucking table just to be with Y/N. What a fucking creep.”

“Yeah, we hit the jackpot? Is that what you want to do? Order your little cult to kidnap Y/N so you could use her in your cult sacrifices?” The cafeteria gets silent at the statements of Jason and Andy. Eddie’s face feels warm, not because he was particularly embarrassed, but because of his anger. 

He just wanted to look at you is all, what’s wrong with that?!

“Hey Jason-” Eddie hears a soft voice,

“No. We need to fucking expose this freak before he terrorizes Hawkins. Shit, maybe tomorrow night we might just see that club of his dancing around a fire. That’s what you do Eddie? Dance around the fire like a couple of pussy bitches?”

“Why don’t you fucking push your head up Andy’s ass Jason. You’re being a fucking prick.” Eddie sneers at Jason. Of course, Jason expected this kind of reaction from him, prompting him to threateningly step closer. 

“Yeah, you freak-”

“Jason, I fuckin’ said, shut,” he pushes the cafeteria tray into his chest, “the fuck, up!” Eddie turns his tray over, knocking some potato mixture onto Jason’s varsity jacket. The cafeteria gasps, but before Jason could give him some kind of comeback, Eddie leaves the room. Not forgetting to give him the middle finger before he made his exit. 

Slightly turning around, Eddie still makes the effort to look for you, catching your shocked face switching between him and Jason. 

“Get back here you freak!” The door shuts behind him. 

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Eddie runs through the school, trying to find an empty classroom he could hide in for the time being. He definitely didn’t want to get caught by Jason and his goblins. 

He wasn’t prepared for whatever they were gonna give him. 

“Eddie?” His heart stops. Eddie hears a voice in the hallway, not wanting to turn around and witness his murderer. 

‘FUCK.’ Pushing open the door right next to him, he finds it to be the restroom. Not sure if it was girls or boys, but regardless, he didn’t care. Eddie rushes into the last stall, pulling close the door and sitting on the toilet seat, pushing his legs up to hide from whoever was looking for him. 

The door swings open. 

‘SHIT! Ozzy, please, I’m begging you. Please save me from whatever they’re gonna do to me, I’ll listen to Black Sabbath extra hard tonight. I promise!’ 

Eddie rocks back and forth, biting onto his rings to stop his heavy breathing. Slow footsteps echo throughout the small room, before finally stopping in front of him. 

‘Well. Praying didn’t do shit. Ozzy! You bi-’

“Eddie? It’s me, Y/N.” His heart stops, again.

‘Oh no. You’re probably here to fucking expose him. Jason is gonna come in here in any second-’

“I know, you probably don’t want to talk to me. But I’m not gonna call for Jason or any of his groupies. If it helps you, Chrissy is trying her best to calm him down…and I think that she’s doing an okay job.” Silence ensues. “Eddie? I just want to talk to you.”

His heart hurts. Why does your voice have to sound so pretty as well? 

Eddie puts his feet down. Slowly unlocking the door, he pulls it towards him and faces you. 

‘Shit, so pretty.’ Earlier, when he said that there seemed to be a light radiating behind you, he didn’t mean literally. But now? 

The lights above the restroom mirrors flicker a little, but still manage to enhance your beauty. Eddie almost crumbles to the ground, but instead just keeps his gaze locked onto your eyes…trying not to look anywhere else. 

“May I help you?” Shit, that sounded rude.

“Hey! Um, I just wanted to talk about what Jason was saying earlier. I’m sorry about whatever he said, y’know, about Hellfire and you.”

‘Fuck! She knows about Hellfire?!’

“Yeah…it’s not okay. I mean, he’s a fucking child so I don’t really care. The fact that you’re apologizing for him says a lot.” You sigh, rocking back and forth. 

“Well, our varsity basketball captain has a massive stick up his ass, so…I’m here. Apologizing for him because he is, like you said, a fucking child.” Eddie laughs a bit and you join him as well. He didn’t really expect you to criticise Jason like that, especially since the both of you ran in the same social circle. “Um, but that isn’t really what I came to talk to you about Eddie.”

‘Oh shit.’ This was it. The moment when you were going to ask him to stop looking at you. 

“About what Jason was saying…were you really looking at me or was Jason just imagining things?” Eddie swallows his spit. He really was debating on whether or not he should tell you the truth. 

“Well, um, uh,” fuck it, “yeah. I was looking at you. I just think that you…you know, are- shit.” He wipes his eyes with his hands to avoid looking at you. For some reason, you were getting too fucking bright. 

“No! Eddie, um…” you grab his hands from his face, surprising him a bit, “I think, I think I like you looking at me.” Eddie pauses, internally screaming.

‘...what?’

“I mean! I like you looking at me, as in, you know, I like that you take the time out of your day! I appreciate it! I also notice too in class, you looking at me, cause I look at you too- fuck! I mean, sorry, shit…I think your tattoos are cool!” You blurt that all out, shaking his hands as you spoke to him. You didn’t seem to notice that you were moving his hands along with yours, but he didn’t mind it. 

“You think my tattoos are cool?” Your eyes widen. 

“Of course! Who doesn’t? I love the bat one it’s so metal. I want to get a tattoo for my eighteenth, but I’m not sure what to get!” Eddie goes through some more pausing. 

‘Did you just say ‘metal’?’

“Did you just say metal?” Eddie repeats, standing up from the toilet, and you finally realize that his hands were in yours. Frantically pulling them away at the realization, Eddie immediately grabs them back. 

He was not getting rid of this opportunity!

“I did…? Did it sound right? I just started listening to metal, so I hope it’s okay to use the term.” His smile grows wider on his face. 

“Yes, yes you did say it right.” You smile right back and Eddie was starting to gain his confidence. “Listen, if you need any help coming up with ideas for a tattoo…I could always help you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally.” His thumbs rub your hands, 

‘Way to go Eddie!’

“Then,” you step closer to him, “can I request that you also be there when I get it? Y’know, to comfort me and what not.”

‘Ozzy? Praying to you has got to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’

“Just give me the time and place sweetheart.”

TAGS:

@crunchcake @buckwbarnz @bookobsessedfreak

Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era

mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.

contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them. 

His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride. 

Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.” 

Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed. 

You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded. 

You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress. 

“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?” 

The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you. 

“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly. 

Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?” 

Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?” 

Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?” 

Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-” 

“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?” 

Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress. 

“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly. 

“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?” 

It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it. 

“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded. 

“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?” 

Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.” 

“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.” 

“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?” 

Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?” 

“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…” 

“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air. 

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?” 

“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner. 

“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised. 

Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to. 

“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.” 

“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused. 

“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.” 

Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you. 

“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.” 

“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave. 

You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned. 

Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.” 

“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-” 

“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.” 

You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?” 

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. 

“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly. 

Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”

You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.” 

“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly. 

You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.” 

Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office. 

Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor. 

You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you. 

“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead. 

“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.

Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-” 

The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear. 

“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!” 

You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district. 

The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger. 

His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.” 

“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.” 

“It’s alrig-” 

“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy. 

The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you. 

“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought. 

You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace. 

“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him. 

He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him. 

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before. 

You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.” 

Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words. 

“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?” 

“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest. 

“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened. 

“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come. 

You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag. 

“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly. 

You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you. 

You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you. 

“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background. 

“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that. 

“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race. 

“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently. 

“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression. 

“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst. 

“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.” 

“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face. 

“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.” 

You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought. 

“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday. 

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before. 

“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer. 

His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful. 

You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin. 

It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you. 

Open Wounds | 18+ - Dark Fic | Chapter One

Summary: Soldier Boy sets his eyes on a new project – one that takes an interesting turn. 

Chapter Tags: drug use, SB being a bastard as usual, flirting, hints of grooming, mentions of underage, minor underage Chapter WC: 2835

A/Ns: Commissioned by the lovely @synmorite! When I started working on this fic, SB hadn’t appeared in the show yet, so a lot of it was guess work and my own ideas of him as a person and his story given the tidbits we’d had up to that point. Now the season has aired, I’m realising there are several ways my SB differs from canon, so sorry about that! We’ll call this my version of SB! Ahaha

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Soldier Boy’s POV

Smiling for the camera, Soldier Boy feels his cheeks hurting, the bright flash of light invading his vision for a split moment, before it’s gone again, and he sees spots of it left behind for a moment or two. As soon as the cameraman moves away, the smile on his face drops, and he looks around the quiet conference room, noticing Ashley approaching him. 

“Are you ready? Everyone is so excited to see you!” she busies, reaching up to tug on his suit. 

He moves out of her way swiftly, reaching for his flask and unscrewing the cap. “Not yet,” he tells her adamantly, before taking a swig of bourbon. 

“Everyone’s been waiting for over an hour,” she starts to stress, biting her bottom lip. 

“Let them fuckin’ wait,” he grunts, frustrated by her persistence, “I’m worth it, aren’t I? I’ve been gone forty fuckin’ years, another hour won’t kill ‘em,” he smirks, replacing his flask and flashing her his signature cocky grin. 

“Of course,” she swallows, nodding and forcing a smile. 

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes, turning his back on her as he heads back over to the table he’d been sitting at before the cameraman interrupted him, and he resumes his seat, picking up the metal straw and lining up the end with the line of white powder. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? There’s a lot of press out there, fans…” Ashley worries some more. He looks up from the table, setting her a long hard stare, and Ashley relents, clearing her throat. “I’m going to make sure catering haven’t fucked up the entrees,” she excuses, finally leaving him alone. 

Soldier Boy sighs, returning to what he’d been doing, placing the other end of the straw up one nostril, blocking the other as he inhales deeply. He brushes the underside of his nose, sitting back and waiting for it to kick in as the door opens. He glances towards it to see yet another face he doesn’t want around him enter the room, her red lips curled into a smirk. 

“Nice to see you haven’t changed,” she comments, sauntering towards him. 

“You have. You’re fuckin’ old,” he comments, setting her a hard stare. Like before, his intimidation seems to do very little to her, and he watches as Crimson Countess approaches. She sits down on the table directly in front of him, her own smug grin on her lips. “What the fuck do you want?” he grunts. 

“Now there’s no need to be like that, Ben,” she coos mockingly, leaning closer, bringing her cleavage closer to his face. “We had something pretty fuckin’ good between us.” 

“Forty years ago, sweetheart,” Soldier Boy reminds her. “Before you started that freak show honoring me, instead of fucking finding me.” 

Crimson purses her lips, leaning back just a little. “I thought you were dead. I fuckin’ mourned you.” 

“Not fuckin’ hard enough. Bet you barely let the fuckin’ ink dry on my death certificate before you were making fuckin’ money off of me,” he accuses, rising to his feet. Her eyes follow him, and she clenches her jaw softly. “Stay out of my fuckin’ way tonight.” 

He storms towards the door. Not that the supe wants to go to a stupid party anyway, but it’s preferable to being alone with that washed up traitorous bitch. Besides, he supposes it might be fun having a whole night celebrating him. He plasters the fake smile on his face as he feels the coke starting to kick in, and heads towards the party. He bursts through the double doors onto the scene with his arms spread out wide. 

“You guys looking for America’s first hero?” he asks cockily, grinning widely at the way everyone stops what they’re doing to turn and look at him, applauding and cheering at his presence. 

Once again flashes start to blind him, but he stands and poses, smiling brightly for every single one, fully aware of the amount of eyes on him. 

“Crimson Countess, one with you too,” one of the photographers calls. He turns his head to see her making her way into the room, looking at him a little hesitantly. 

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he calls, holding his arm out invitingly. “Just like old times.” He hugs her in close as soon as she’s next to him, and together they smile for the camera. 

Once he’s decided they’ve had enough, Soldier Boy shoves Crimson away, heading towards a waiter holding a tray of canapes. He eyes the sushi type snack and tries one, deciding he likes it enough to take the entire tray, and begins to make his rounds around the room, putting on the charm and laughing at the guests whenever they say something they think is funny. 

It’s barely five minutes in that he’s bored and feels a headache brewing. Ashley keeps excitedly introducing him to people in Vought that he doesn’t recognise. Apparently all of the team he worked with are dead or retired now, and he eyes the new team suspiciously, secretly pleased to notice the slight tremor in their voices as they talk to him, clearly eager to impress him and stay in his good books. He’s used to being the best person in the room, and he’s glad that forty years away hasn’t changed that. Being the first supe was always a responsibility he didn’t ask for, but he supposes the benefits have outweighed the disadvantages for the most part. 

“Excuse me, sir?” Soldier Boy looks down, finding a boy around stomach height grinning up with him, his two front teeth missing. “Can you sign my comic book?” 

The supe looks around the room to find who the little brat belongs to – what are kids doing at this kind of event anyway? – But he doesn’t lay eyes on anyone that wants to claim him, not that Soldier Boy blames them. He forces a wider smile regardless and bends slightly. 

“Sure can, sport,” he agrees, taking the book and pen from him. His eyes land on the very bad depiction of him, and frowns slightly. He doesn’t look like that, that man is ugly. He flicks through the pages, seeing the juvenile ‘danger’ that the comic book puts him in, and then can’t help but laugh at how pathetic it all is. “Used to love these as a kid,” he tells the boy, covering his tracks, and then scrawls his name over the cover. 

“Freddie, there you are. I’m so sorry, Sir,” the woman blushes, trying to usher her son away. 

“No worries, Ma’am, always happy to meet a young fan,” he insists, smiling so hard his jaw hurts. “Just keep a better eye on him, hm? This isn’t a place for children.” 

“Of course, sir,” she replies, nodding her head and only blushing harder. “Thanks again.” 

Soldier Boy smirks slightly as he hears her scold her son the whole time they walk away, unable to stop himself from checking out her ass in that tight dress she’s wearing. 

“Soldier Boy?” he sighs heavily when he hears the tone of Ashley’s voice behind him. 

“What?” he barks, turning around frustrated. He clips it short when he sees she has a guest, and puts the smile back on his face, already exhausted by the entire evening. He’d forgotten how hard it was to act for so long. His eyes land on a middle aged woman beside Ashley, and when he looks back at her for an explanation, she speaks up again. 

“This is Nicola Y/L/N, her father served alongside you in the war,” Ashley explains. 

“I don’t know a Y/L/N,” he tells her as politely as possible, already bored with the conversation. 

“That’s my married name, Sir, my maiden name is Keller. Arnold Keller?” she questions. 

“Arnie Keller,” he remembers, the smile on his face wavering for a split second as he remembers the weedy teenager that used to follow him around like a fucking shadow. That kid barely gave the supe a moment with his own thoughts. At first he liked the admiration. Arnie treated him like a God, and who doesn’t want to be reminded of their superiority in that way? But soon it got fucking irritating. “Great guy,” he lies. “I’m sorry I never got to see him again.” 

“He’s still alive,” Nicola beams. “He’s just over there.” 

“Oh, perfect.” 

Soldier Boy internally breaks something – maybe Ashley’s neck – but instead follows on behind Nicola towards an old man in a wheelchair that resembles nothing like the Arnie he knew from war, besides the signature way his nose bulged on the end just a little. 

“Arnie! Surprised to hear you’re still alive, old friend,” Soldier Boy announces, clapping his hand down heavily on the frail man’s shoulder. 

“Dad doesn’t speak much anymore, not after his stroke, but his mind is still all there apparently,” Nicola explains softly, smiling warmly at her father. 

“Now that is a shame. Arnie used to spend night after night telling me all kinds of stories,” Soldier Boy pretends to reminisce fondly, secretly elated that the son of a bitch won’t be opening his mouth anytime soon. That’s the last thing he needs tonight. 

He notices two more people approach, a man around Nicola’s age – the supe assumes her husband – and a younger woman, still in her teens, he guesses. 

“Sir, this is the rest of our family,” Nicola explains. “This is my husband, David and our youngest daughter, Y/N.” 

Soldier Boy locks eyes with Y/N, noticing how her eyes widen a little, sparkling in excitement as she smiles at him. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, Sir,” David speaks up, holding out his hand. 

“Of course,” Soldier Boy smiles, moving his attention swiftly onto their daughter. “Y/N, you look beautiful tonight,” he compliments, holding out his hand. She giggles a little as she takes his hand, and he’s quick to turn the back of it so he can kiss it softly. “Sorry, guess I’m an old fashioned man,” he apologises, flashing her a wink as he stands up straight again. “I forget that you folks don’t do that sorta thing anymore.” 

“Don’t apologise,” David insists. “It’s good to see some old fashioned chivalry again.” 

“Indeed,” the supe agrees, his eyes once more wandering to Y/N and the way she’s looking at him, all wide eyed and hopeful. He glances towards Arnie again, seeing the slight crease in the old man’s forehead as he furrows his eyebrows and Soldier Boy laughs softly to himself leaning in closer to Arnie’s ear. “Don’t worry, old friend, we both know I’m nice to the ladies.” He claps his hand on the old man’s back again, and looks between the family. “If you’d excuse me, I think I’d like a drink.” 

He glances at Y/N one last time and then heads over to the bar, flagging down a waiter and ordering a bourbon. His eyes scan the crowds but inevitably land back on Y/N, noticing her looking over at him across the room. He flashes her a smug grin, taking a sip of his drink. He never did like Arnie. What an annoying parasite he was. It could be quite fun to fuck with him now that he can’t fight back. He finishes his drink and licks his lips, straightening his suit as he picks up on the music they’re playing. The kinds of songs they’d play in music halls when he was younger. 

He takes a deep breath and heads towards the dancefloor, noticing other couples slow dancing together. He stops as he gets close to Y/N and bites his bottom lip for a moment. 

“You don’t mind if I dance with you daughter do you, David?” he asks politely, already holding out his hand for her. She looks at her father excitedly, and Soldier Boy cocks an eyebrow, daring David to disapprove. 

“Of course not, sir,” he agrees, slightly flustered by the question. 

“Thank you, I’ll bring her back safely, I can assure you.” Soldier Boy winks at them, and then takes Y/N’s delicate hand, leading her over to the dance floor. 

He lets the silence grow for a moment between them as they sway, relishing in the nervous glances Ashley keeps sending his way. Eventually she approaches, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Sir, I think you should mingle,” she tells him far more politely than usual. 

“This is my party, if I want to dance with a pretty girl I will,” he insists, flashing Y/N a wink. 

Ashley forces an awkward chuckle. “I really think that dancing with a teenage girl should be low on your list tonight.” 

“Relax, Ashley,” Soldier Boy insists, pushing Y/N out at arm’s length and encouraging her to spin. “Gotta keep my appeal with the ladies,” he winks, whispering. 

Ashley purses her lips but eventually relents, leaving them alone. 

“She’s a pain in my ass sometimes,” he excuses, chuckling softly. Y/N giggles, biting her bottom lip. “You’ve not said a single word to me. I don’t scare you, do I, little darling?” he asks. 

“No, sir,” she whispers, looking around nervously. 

“Would you prefer it if we were alone?” he asks next, making her eyes widen. “C’mon, I could do with a break, anyway.” 

Soldier Boy doesn’t give her a chance to protest, and doesn’t look for her father’s approval this time as he leads her out of the main room and towards a quieter office that is empty. He lets them both in and closes the door behind them, gesturing to her to take a seat on the couch. She does so quietly, tucking her dress skirt under her ass before taking her place, and Soldier Boy smirks, sitting beside her closer than is polite. 

“You really are very beautiful,” he compliments, reaching up to brush some hair out of her face. 

“Thank you,” she smiles, biting her bottom lip anxiously. 

“You know,” he begins, letting his fingers ghost down her jawline. “You were exactly my type before… before I was lost,” he words carefully. “I know I’m technically older, but I don’t feel it. Still feel as young as you at heart.” Y/N laughs softly, nodding her head in understanding. “Though, I bet you look at me and see an old man, huh?” he asks, dejectedly. 

“I think you’re handsome,” she confesses, nervously. 

Soldier Boy instantly smirks, guiding her face towards his a little more so he can see all of her. “You do?” he checks. She nods in his grasp. “Well that’s made me feel a lot better, darlin’,” he hums. “Feels good to think I could stand a chance with a girl like you.” 

“I’m sure you could get any girl you wanted,” Y/N offers.

“Well, maybe I don’t want just any girl. Maybe there’s only one I want right now,” he suggests, angling her face to tilt her lips closer to his. 

“Really?” she checks. 

“Mhm,” he hums, bringing his face closer. 

“But I’m only seventeen.” 

Soldier Boy stops, dropping his hand instantly, feeling anger flood his veins. Fucking perfect. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he grunts, unable to stop the words flying out of his mouth. She suddenly looks afraid, nervously biting her bottom lip. 

“I’m sorry, are you angry?” she asks. 

“Well, sweetheart,” he sighs, trying to regain his composure and put on his front. “It’s not ideal that I just tried to kiss an underage girl,” he explains exasperatedly. “You probably think I’m a creep now.” 

“I don’t,” Y/N defends. “And I’m eighteen in two months,” she adds. 

Once again Soldier Boy’s interest is piqued as he considers his options. Two months doesn’t seem that long to wait, not if it’s going to fuck with Arnie. 

“Well then, darlin’, why don’t we continue this on your birthday?”

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coriolanus snow x fem!reader

⤷ coriolanus is your mentor, and he fucks you before you’re sent to the games. 18+ mdni.

Coriolanus showed no mercy when fucking you. His pace was fast but thorough, lingering slightly when all of his length was inside for you to take. Your eyes brimmed with tears from pure euphoria. Coriolanus kept one hand around your breasts, playing with your nipple while the other massaged your clit. He whispered dirty things in your ear, loving how your body responded to it. Knowing that it was forbidden for the both of you to meet outside of mentoring hours, nonetheless doing this. The rush of possibly getting caught made him swell inside of you.

“I want you to cry out how much you love my cock.”

When you don’t answer fast enough, he rolls your nipple harder in between his fingers, earning a loud whimper to release from your mouth.

“Aghh, I fucking love it.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice when he said, “Always such a good girl for me.” Coriolanus buried himself in your cunt, as your walls gripped around his dick. You felt like you were about to go insane; nothing mattered anymore but Coriolanus. How did he make it so easy to forget? Your head fell back onto his chest. “Coryo, oh please, don't stop.” you moaned. You were no longer caring if you got caught. Your legs began to tremble, making it challenging to keep your back arched over the desk. But this didn't falter the momentum.

“Take. Every. Last. Drop.” Coriolanus paused with each word, adding emphasis between thrusts. You follow his lead without hesitation. Throwing your ass back to meet him halfway, fucking him back. You could tell that Coriolanus was close, and you were not too far behind. Now with both hands, Coriolanus held onto your waist, jerking his dick in your pussy sloppier and more demanding than before.

You could feel yourself gushing on his cock. You've never gotten this wet. “Shit— I'm going… going to cum” he gasped out. Coriolanus didn't pull out as he came inside you, grinding himself further as your cunt milked him of everything that he had to give. Your body shuddered, unable to slow the torrent of pleasure that overcame you. The two of you rode out the waves of your orgasm until your bodies became sore. Coriolanus drove himself crazy from the thought of possibly losing this, the power to stroke and fondle your body and hear your cries of ecstasy. But he would leave, just like he always did. Coriolanus left you with one last kiss and three words.

“Do not lose.”

request

Sugar and Sweet

I DID IT I FINALLY WROTE IT 😎

Paring : Dark!Coriolanus Snow x bimbo reader

Warnings : degradation, yandere, smut...

From the moment the midwives handed his daughter to him, Casca Highbottom knew he would do everything in his power to protect her from the horrors of the world. With your mother passing away a few weeks after your birth, leaving your father as your sole parent, it came as no shock that you were a complete daddy's girl.

You were a pure soul, a little angel without a mean bone in your body, always trusting and kind towards anyone you met, albeit some would snicker behind your back, calling you foolish and naive, but for the most part, people couldn't help but be drawn towards your sugar and sweet personality.

The first time Coriolanus Snow saw you, he was eight. You were a little thing wearing a puffy pink princess dress and playing on the swings with the boy from the Plinth family when a group of elitists came to mock the boy. Usually, Coriolanus ignores the ruckus, thinking himself above it all. On that day, he couldn't help staying and watching as you stood in front of Sejanus and told the bullies to leave him alone. Of course, that had ended with you getting pushed down and scraping your knees; luckily, your father had arrived just in time to save you, "stupid girl." Coriolanus mumbled before leaving the playground.

That was all years ago. Now, at eighteen, Coriolanus was far from the little boy in the playground; having become an excellent actor, never letting anyone notice the imperfections of his life in between the cracks, and you, oh how he hated you with your pretty (h/c) hair and perfect life, the little darling of the academy, always surrounded by people trying to carry favor with you in hopes of getting in the good graces of your father, everyone knowing how much Casaca Highbottom spoiled his precious daughter.

"I hate her." Coriolanus would whisper breathlessly, waking up from another one of his filthy dreams with you in it, "You're mine !" He'd moan in the shower, hand on his cock, as he imagined you on your knees struggling to fit all of him in your mouth.

Anyone else would've had a hard time hiding their desires, but Coriolanus was different; he'd been aloof when he saw you that day, smiling as if he hadn't just cleaned the bathroom tiles at his home after he'd cum with thoughts of defiling you.

There was only one person who saw through Coriolanus's acts, Dean Highbottom saw the boy for what he was, a vicious snake biding time before striking, so he had tried everything to keep you away from Coriolanus, but you simply ignored your father's warnings, "Coryo's a good person, papa !" Words that made the aging man worry for you more than before, but try as he might, you still continued to spend time with Coriolanus, much to the boys' satisfaction.

It all started when a professor paired the two of you to complete an assignment. Despite popular belief, you were actually quite intelligent, a fact that shocked Coriolanus, who only saw you as a pretty fool. During the time spent together, you'd developed a crush on him. Who could blame you...He was just so charming, with pretty blue eyes and Icy blonde hair. He noticed, of course, the way you'd blush and stutter around him, and he used it to his advantage.

"I don't love her," he'd remind himself while kissing your pouty lips. "I'm just using her to get back at Highbottom." He'd think, as you gave him a kiss on the cheek holding the rose he gave you, so why did his blood boil when he saw you giggling at something Sejanus said or the sweet smile you gave Felix after thanking him for helping you get a book from the top library shelf...

Even now, with him on top of you as he trailed kisses down your neck, he didn't want to believe it. "Do I actually..." No, of course he didn't. He couldn't possibly have fallen in love with you; that was ridiculous. You were too sweet for his taste, always bringing him little snacks you made, holding his hand in reassurance when he took you to his mother's grave, telling him you were so happy he was your boyfriend...

"I...I love you, Coryo." You'd cried doe eyes filled with tears as he rutted into you for the first time, his cock so deep you'd felt it hit your cervix, your virgin blood staining the silky sheets of your childhood bed "f..fuck." he'd groaned, biting your already brused neck, "Say it again." He demanded it this time, as he trusted in you faster and harder, desperate to have you speak the words to him again as he filled you up with his cum.

"I love you too..."

Coriolanus mumbled, running his hands through your soft (h/c) locks, having finally come to terms with his own emotions as he looked at your sleeping face, your hands clinging on to his bare chest right on his heart as if you'd known the beating organ was yours to claim all along. There was no denying it anymore. "Snow had fallen."

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Might do a part 2 if I'm motivated enough 💅🏼

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