I Was About To Raise Hell About The Dating Cops = Red Flags Cuz I Have A Crush On Leon Kennedy And I
I was about to raise hell about the dating cops = red flags cuz I have a crush on Leon Kennedy and I can certainly assure y'all that he's the sweetest........ and then I remember my other crush, Albert Wesker used to be a cop toođ
the ballad of songbirds and snakes: a cautionary tale about why you shouldn't date a cop
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More Posts from Ashikothedog
I know the reader's age isn't really specified but it makes this whole blackmail thingy more disturbing when you consider the usual age of reaping for the tributes. Considering that, it makes Snow more rotten to the core for forcing the poor girl into submitting to him. More unto that is basically holding her family's life over her so that he could force her more into doing his will and forcing her to move with him in the Capitol.
Coriolanus Snow when I catch you...
A Caged Bird (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, blackmail, stalking, abuse of power, hints of dacryphilia, slightly spoiler-esque

summary: Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them...and where you know where they are at all times.
~
You thought that it was over when you won.
Thatâs what winning The Hunger Games meant, right? The psychological torture, the grueling conditions, and the fear that wouldnât leave you until you finally left the arena was supposed to be over. You made it out through blood, sweat, and tears, and so your reward was to go home and reunite with your family and try your best to put the memories behind you.
Try your best to put him behind you.
So, why were you still being tormented?
When you first locked eyes with Coriolanus Snow, your first thought was how strikingly blue his were. Almost as if they werenât real and had been specially manufactured in The Capitol for him, somehow. His hair, too, was just so much blonder than anything youâd seen in District 12, and again, you noted how so much about him seemedâŚartificial.
âŚbut then he spokeâŚand the effect his voice had on you was very real.
âYou donât seem like youâre supposed to be here,â youâd said to him after stepping off of that train.
His response was expected, a charming chuckle leaving his pink lips, blond curls the perfect addition to his features.
âIâm not,â he slowly admitted.
The intensity behind his gaze whenever he so much as glanced at you was enough to make any girlâs heart race, and despite what you wished, you werenât immune. He was beautifulâgorgeous as some of the other tributes and mentors liked to call himâand despite the initial intimidation, there was something about him that made you want to let your guard down.
âŚbut he was your mentorâŚand a capitol citizenâŚand you were nothing more than his ticket to notoriety.
âDonât you know who his dad was?â another tribute, one from one of the better districts, had said to you in a tone like you were stupid.
That was all the confirmation you needed, really.
âŚbut heâd hopped onto the truck with you and gotten into that cage with you and brought you and your district mate food. He gave you poison to use against the other tributes. He wanted you to appeal to the audience so heâd have the funds to send you supplies. It was hard to decipher what was purely for show and what was just because he wanted youâand him by extensionâto win. Perhaps, they were one in the same though, and it was impossible to have one without the other. Maybe it didnât matter his reasons behind his desire to have his tribute win.
Maybe all that mattered was that youâd win.
âŚbut that was when you thought winning meant youâd be free.
Coriolanus Snow was your best chance at winning, and so when the rebels rigged the arena, you didnât hesitate to stay behind and save him. It wasnât even a question in your mind because mentor or not, he was hurt, and you had to believe that that one fluke was not your only fighting chance. You couldnât allow yourself to believe that in saving him, youâd allowed freedom to pass you by.
âYou saved me,â he told you, a gentle brush of his handkerchief under your eye to catch your tears. âYou saved me, and I am going to get you out of here.â
You had no idea then that he meant out of the gamesâŚand to him.
It was that flickering moment of doubt where you wondered if you could actually win, and you recalled what youâd said to him earlier about believing you could, how much you needed him to actually believe it. Now, you were the one doubting, and he could see it, blue gaze flicking over your face and soaking in the fear and uncertainty, because if you couldnât winâŚ
Youâd die.
A lingering gaze and a tense atmosphere, and you felt yourself pulling back, realization hitting you as to just what you were about to let happen. It was hard to decipher who overstepped first, but you couldnât allow yourself to get wrapped up in something that was only ever meant to be strictly professional. Coriolanus was your mentor, and you were his tribute.
That was all.
You didnât know then the full lengths he went to just to ensure your victory. How could you? You were too busy trying to survive, trying to fight off rabid tributes and teenagers driven mad with the sole desire to just live. It was all so unfair and angering, and you were sure that with less focus, you mightâve gone insane too. You didnât have the luxury to worry about your eerily handsome mentor and whatever ulterior motives he mightâve had to see you beat this thing.
So, when you did win, all you could feel was relief. All you could focus on was your family and their faces when youâd ultimately reunite with them. All you could even entertain were thoughts of pushing this very real nightmare to the back of your mind for as long as you possibly could. Initially, you didnât even notice that you werenât immediately reunited with your mentor when they crowned you as the winner and got you out of there.
At least, not until you came face to face with him in your own district.
âI thought theyâd killed you. I didnât know if my actions had come back on you too,â Coriolanus told you in a secluded corner, the loud music drowning out his words and the cover of darkness hiding your faces.
Those beautiful pale curls were gone, and any thought that so much of his beauty relied on his golden locks was gone too with one drink of him. He was still the same handsome boy that mentored you, the same one whoâd garnered the nickname âgorgeousâ among the other tributes. Up on that stage, youâd been thrown to meet a familiar gaze, your harmonious tune pausing for half a second as he met your shocked stare with an expression of his own you couldnât place, pink lips curved upwards ever so slightly.
Any question of how and why he was here had disappeared as you registered his words. Confusion filled you as you stared at him, a slight frown between your brows as you wracked your brain for how that could possibly make sense.
âWhy would they kill meâŚ?â you slowly asked him, and you and the shadows were all that was privy to his confession.
The water bottles, the handkerchief, and the snakesâeven the poison. Coriolanus had cheated to secure your victory, broken rules that plucked him out of The Capitol and dropped him here in your very own district as a Peacekeeper. The shock you felt that your victory was far from a fair one warred with the confusion you felt as to why heâd risk everything just for you to win.
If youâd lost fair and squareâas you probably should haveâthere was no doubt in your mind that heâd be safely tucked away in the lavishness of The Capitol instead of lingering about in some rundown excuse for a bar in lowly District 12. If he knew what awaited him should his treachery be discoveredâŚthen why chance it? Nothing about your brief tutelage with him could justify what heâd risked and ultimately lost.
You wanted to ask him why, but something in you was afraid of the answer.
That almost kissâa kiss you hadnât thought about in monthsâsuddenly came to mind, and even though you didnât ask him why, something in you knew why even if you wanted to deny it. It was there in the dim lighting and rowdy atmosphere of some rundown building that every minor interaction didnât start to feel so minor.
Every brush of his hand against yours as he reached for you, the unsettling way he seemed to watch you in that short time that youâd simply written off as concern for his tribute, and the ruthless desire to see you out on the other side of the arena. The kiss that never was only seemed like a lapse in judgement to you then, but in this moment, you had suspicions that it was very much intentional.
You swallowed, realizing that in that brief internal introspection, Coriolanus hadnât taken his eyes off of you once.
âDid they send you to District 12?â you finally asked him.
You didnât know what gave you away. Perhaps your tone, maybe your face, or maybe your eyes werenât as secretive as youâd like to believe. Either way, something about your visage and demeanor gave the blond man pause, head tilting just a tad as those baby blues glinted with something you didnât recognize but you know you didnât like. He studied your face before coming up with the answer he probably thought you wanted.
âOf course.â
You didnât know if you believed him.
âŚand Coriolanus could tell.
Youâd played enough cat and mouse games in the arenaâyou never thought youâd have to play them in your own home too.
Starving off the affections of some boy in your district wasnât hard or uncharted territory. Even spurning the forbidden advances of a Peacekeeper or two wasnât unheard of, but Coriolanus was different. He wasnât some average Joe turned cop. He was born and raised in The Capitol with a powerful father, and even though the man had been taken before his time, your former mentor still had been brought up with the kind of influence and reach and mindset that surpassed the average Peacekeeper.
They were followersâcontrolled by The Capitol and tasked with maintaining order. Most were no more than dumb brutes, mindlessly following orders without question, simple enough to be bribed and swayed. If Coriolanusâ actions had shown you anything, it was that he was not a follower. He did what he wanted and played by his own rules, and it was how you found yourself hunted by a gaze you thought youâd left behind in the arena.
Since the discovery of your former mentorâs presence in your district, you never felt alone.
Every walk to trade for food felt shadowed, every footstep home was accompanied with an echo, and a sweep of your eye over the crowd as you played an instrument or sang a tune was rewarded with a familiar blue one that made your heart freeze. You were forced to ignore it no longer when a single rose was left for you on the doorstep, your maâs gaze questioning as she held it out to you.
You didnât know where or how he got it, but you only cared about giving it back.
âI canât accept this,â you told him, gaze steady but fingers trembling as you held it out to him.
It was raining, and the cover over your heads sheltered you from the downpour, but it did little to drown out the sound of it. Coriolanus simply stared at the flower for what felt like too long, making no moves to take it from you, and you swallowed. His blue gaze zeroed in on the action before it lifted to your face.
ââŚand why not?â
âBecause I think it means something different to you than it does to me.â
Your response was swift, and you watched him sigh, eventually reaching out to finger the flower like he did that day before heâd proceeded to put it behind your ear. He finally took it, and just like that day before the games, it found its way behind your ear once again. The only change this time was the shudder that traveled down your spine, and the apprehension you felt when his gaze met yours.
For the longest time, the only sound was that of the rain, a few stray drops making itâs way onto your face and clothes due to the wind. If the man before you still had the locks youâd met him with, they wouldâve been rustling with the breeze, right now. Both of you were very still, or maybe it was just youânervous and fearful of how heâd respond. He briefly looked past you, eyes glinting briefly before they hardened once again, his pink lips pressed together as he regarded you.
ââŚand if it does?â
He continued when you frowned.
âMean something different to me than it does to you,â he elaborated, and you blinked.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts.
âI knowâŚthat Iâm only standing here, now, because of you,â you slowly started, watching him push his shoulders back. âI won because of you, I know that, but-.â
âExactly,â he cut you off, making your lips part. âYou won because of meâŚand everything I sacrificed was to make sure you won.â
ââŚbut I didnât ask you to do that!â
You feltâŚcornered, somehow, because on the one hand, yes. You did owe so much to the man before you, but at the same time, what did you owe specifically? Your attention? Your affection? Whatever he deemed an appropriate compensation? When you saved his life in the arena that day, and he vowed to save yours in return, you didnât understand the full ramifications of the deal you were agreeing to.
âI saved your life, and you saved mine, and Iâm sorry for the things you felt the need to risk, but thatâs where it ends.â
The cold from the rain didnât faze you nearly as much as the heat from his gaze boring into your back.
You wanted to believe that your lack of confrontation was what led you to the predicament you found yourself in. After all, things between you two had held too many âwhat ifsâ and lingering feelings and questions. You liked to hope that telling the man in no uncertain terms that your relationship should never and would never progress beyond anything professional would fix things.
You never wouldâve guessed that your bout of confidence would only prove to make things worse.
âMy ma doesnât even know any rebels, and you know that.â
Youâd whispered the words so quietly, throat too choked up to speak any louder as you tearfully stared Coriolanus down, your words only intended for the two of you. Your back was pressed to the doorway as he stood before you, a foot or two of space between you as other Peacekeepers did their duty to search your house as thoroughly as possible. The reason youâd been given was suspicion of treasonâto the shock of your maâbut both you and the handsome man before you knew the truth.
âOne can never be too sure. Itâs always those you least expect.â
His cool response only made you look away, a few tears escaping.
It wasnât supposed to be like this. You won, you were free, so why did it still feel like you were in the gameâŚexcept a much more dangerous one this time? You could feel his eyes on you as you watched man after man rifle through you and your maâs things, your younger sister not home to witness this. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him take a step towards youâjust one, but one was enough to make you flinch.
You still didnât give him the satisfaction of looking at him though.
âUnbearable,â he quietly said. ââŚnot able to be enduredâŚor tolerated.â
You swallowed.
âNot to be confused with hardârequiring a great deal of endurance or effort.â
Another step towards you.
âTo find something unbearable means that you quite literally cannot stomach it any longer. It forces a change to come, forces something toâŚgive,â he whispered.
Your gaze was still focused ahead, but his words made you blink, made your heart sink, and you swore that he knew that.
âI can make things incredibly unbearable for youâŚand your family.â
You straightened at that, finally looking at him with a venomous gaze and a heaving chest. Coriolanus reached up to pick at your shirt, removing a piece of grass from it, and you watched him inspect it before turning his blue eyes back onto you. They lingered on your own eyes before lowering to your lips, his own twitching so subtly you mightâve missed it if you were anyone else.
âOr I can make sure youâll be taken care of, looked after as if you were my ownâŚâ his gaze met yours again. âItâs entirely your choice.â
You two stared at one another for an infuriating amount of time before he let out a sharp whistle, telling the other men that nothing seemed to be here and to move on. His wording was not lost on you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Coriolanus was the last to walk out, and despite the feel of his heavy gaze, you didnât look his way the entire time.
Your ma commented on the strangeness of the whole ordeal, but nothing about it was strange to you. It was all very calculating and sinister actually, and while you grew up hearing countless talk of running away and living off the grid, you were never more tempted than in this momentâŚbut you were not alone. Your ma was sickly, and your sister was too young.
âŚand if you left, you could only guess what youâd be leaving your family susceptible to.
Your future seemed inevitable no matter how much you tried to find a way out of the path set for you.
The first night you slept with Coriolanus Snow, it was storming just like that day youâd attempted to give him back his flower. Youâd cried for a good three hours before, feeling helpless in the aftermath of another so-called inspection from Peacekeepersâthis one much more destructive. The only light that night came from the brief flashes of lightning, and the sound of the rain drowned out the reluctant gasps to leave your lips.
Hands much softer than you ever expected trailed down your frame, curving over your hips and dipping underneath your thighs. The blond manâs lips rarely left your skin, kissing whatever part of you that came to mind, nose gently grazing you as he did and pulling shudders from your frame. It was a foreign feeling to be so heated and afraid at the same time.
Under the cover of darkness, his fingers intertwined with your own and his hips were flush with yours. The feel of him inside of you was much more jarring than you thought it would be, choked deep breaths leaving your parted lips as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts were slow, the complete opposite of what you expected, and you didnât know if you liked that better or worse.
Every kiss felt wrong, like you were betraying yourself, but in the same manner, they also reminded you of that first day you met. You thought about when you stepped off of that train, and that smooth voice escaped those pink lips, and your stomach flipped no matter how much you pretended it didnât. The person you were that day wanted to throw your head back and welcome the little nips he left along your skin.
The person you were, now, wanted to crawl inside of your skin.
This man had stalked you to the highest degree, following you all the way from The Capitol just to collect on the young woman whose survival he ensured. The things heâd risked and ultimately lost, he placed the weight of on your shoulders as if you were responsible to compensate for that somehow. As if it was your duty to make his sacrifices worth it.
When he pulled you into his lap, resting on him with arms circled around your waist, it was your turn to press your face into the area where his neck and shoulder met. His fingers dancing along your skin made you shudder, and that just made the tears collect more because you didnât want to enjoy this, but your body and your brain didnât seem to be in alignment.
When you were forced to come around him, you saw stars, and you were positive your nails left marks on his back.
You didnât really think that no more trouble from Peacekeepers was worth the figurative collar around your neck. The abundance of food and supplies might have been, if only to just see the smiles on your ma and sisterâs faces, but even then, when you found your back pressed to Coriolanusâ chest as he drove his cock up into you, you wondered if it was actually worth it.
Your ma would say no, that you knew for sure, but you supposed it wasnât her call to make.
After all, the alternative was psychological torment and worst-case scenarios you didnât even want to entertain.
âWould you have had her arrested?â you quietly wondered one night.
The sheet was clutched to your chest, and you were facing the wall, still unable to look him in the eye directly afterwards. Youâd never been able to, feeling used and low and indefensible. You tried not to dwell on the feel of his fingertips tracing patterns into your shoulder, his cool breath hitting your skin as he exhaled.
âI meanâŚwould you haveâŚframed her somehow? Found some justification for it?â
You didnât know why you were asking, certain you wouldnât like the answer, and as you predicted, you felt your throat tighten the longer the silence stretched. Against your willâlike many things youâd been doing as of lateâa few tears escaped, and even before he answered, you knew what you were going to hear.
âYes,â he confessed, just as quietly.
You squeezed your eyes shut, subtly wiping your face.
âI sacrificed so much for you to win, and not just because your win was my winâŚbut because I wanted to see you win,â he murmured, placing a kiss to your back. ââŚbecause I wanted you.â
You knew that, but having it confirmed so plainly was disturbing.
ââŚand when I eventually make my way back to The Capitol, as we both know I will, Iâll still want you.â
Your stomach sank at that, and for the first time, you turned to look at him while still trembling in the aftermath of what had quickly become a nightly occurrence. His gaze was still focused on where your back had been, and when his eyes flitted up to connect with yours, you didnât have the words to convey how you felt about what he was insinuating.
âIn The Capitol, youâll have access to things you could never even imagineâŚand you could send those same things back to your family,â he told you, reaching up to touch your face.
When you moved to sit up, he stopped you, a firm grip on your arm. Coryoâas he liked for you to call himâfixed you with a look that you knew all too well. It was the look he gave you when you tried to come up with any excuse as to why you couldnât meet with him. It was the look you received when you briefly forgot the power dynamics here, turning away from him and attempting to push him away.
It was a look that told you not to fight the inevitable.
âI want you there with me.â
His tone left no room for argument, and there was so much conviction in his voice that the thought of arguing seemed legitimately draining. You simply stared at him, eyes glassy, and he stared back, waiting for verbal confirmation of what you both knew was going to happen, anyway. You had no choice in the matter, you never did, and for a brief horrifying moment, you almost wished you were a lone orphan who didnât have to look out for anybody but yourself.
That thought did make tears spill over.
It was a horrible thing to think, but your loved ones were being used against you, and you knew that your maâand your sister if she were old enough to comprehend these thingsâwould never want this for you. Coryo sat up with you, a hand resting on your cheek as he gazed at you, a thumb brushing the tears away. It wasnât meant to be comforting.
Nothing he did was ever meant to be comforting.
âI want you there with me,â he repeated.
You wondered what someone like you would possibly do in The Capitol.
âI donât belong there,â you whispered, a poor attempt to get him to change his mind.
His response was swift and clipped.
âYou belong with me.â
When he pressed his lips to yours, it was expected that you would kiss him back. His thumb brushed along your skin as you did, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat that quickly escalated into a groan. His free arm snaked around you, and your last attempt at resisting proved futile, so you let him lay you down.
Sex with Coriolanus was a maddening experience.
You didnât want it, and your brain didnât want it, but it was as if your body was its own separate entity running on hormones and animal instinct.
When he rested his full weight on top of you, you shuddered for a multitude of reasonsâone of which you didnât want to acknowledge. When he slid his hand between your breasts and down to your stomach, your back arched, chest pressing up and into his. When he pushed into you all torturously slow as he always did, you involuntarily held your breath, shaking at the feel of his hips connecting with yours, the length of him fully sheathed in your warmth.
You were terrified of him, so that was why you opened up for him like those budding roses he used to carry around, but in doing so, you made yourself vulnerable beneath him. You made yourself more susceptible to his kisses and his touch and that maddening voice that knew just how to get its way. He wasnât a very talkative man when he was inside of you, much more content with letting his actions speak for themselves, but tonight was different.
âLook at me,â he whispered, curving his hips into yours. âLook right at me.â
You did, and while you didnât know the specifics of the psychology behind this, you knew that looking into the eyes of your tormentor while in the act couldnât be good.
âKeep your eyes on me,â he breathlessly told you, nose brushing against yours with every thrust.
You could hear that it was starting to rain again, and you pressed your hands into the small of his back, trying to ground yourself in some wayâtrying to have control over something, anything. Tears kissed your eyes, and you sworeâyou sworeâthat something in those blues of his twinkled. It sparked something in his gaze, and in his psyche, his thrusts becoming more powerful and making you gasp, nails pressing into his skin.
He only looked especially satisfied when the tears spilled over.
When he came inside of you, and you around him, you swore you saw stars.
You even thought you saw snow.
17170 votes brođ


put me in a room with him and I won't be the one who gets pregnant.

Saw a post like this with negative outlook so I asked for it to be fixed

This is the crystal hand of prosperity. Reblog in 300 seconds to have a year of good money management and raises. âŹđąâŹđ˛đ°đ˛âŹđąâŹ