Hunger Games X You - Tumblr Posts
"Insatiable" - Politician!Coriolanus Snow x Bimbo Wife!Reader
Part 2 HERE.
a/n: a birthday gift to my beloved @hopelesswritergall 🩷
Summary: Coryo doesn't like it when people look at what's his.
Word Count: 2,500
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, daddy kink, semi public sex, shoe riding, oral m receiving, deep throating, dacryphilia, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, biting
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
No matter how one feels about Coriolanus Snow, he has one thing to his credit that no one can ever take away from him.
His devotion to his wife.
He’s cold, calculating, and the exact opposite of you, the sweet, bubbly young woman who has no problem capturing the hearts of everyone she meets. You’ve lived in the Capitol all your life, coming from an affluent family - one of the richest in the city in fact, spoiled rotten by your parents. Coryo knew from the moment he saw you, at the tender age of seven years old, that he needed to have you. And eventually, he made it happen. You became his adoring girlfriend, all throughout your years at the Academy and University, his staunchest supporter day in and day out. And, after graduating, he asked you to marry him, which you eagerly accepted.
The two of you haven’t been married for very long when Coryo is appointed to the position of Minister of War, inserting himself as President Ravinstill’s right hand man. A lavish ball is to be held in his honor at the President’s residence, indicating the fact that he has truly arrived in high society. Coryo sighs, checking his watch, calling out to you that the limo has been pulled out and the two of you are going to be late if you don’t leave soon. Knowing you, you’re probably busy dolling yourself up, the thought making him smile. He hears you call out that you’ll be down in a moment, glancing up when you clear your throat.
His jaw drops when he sees you, dressed in a strapless baby pink gown, paired with a pink fur stole and impossibly high stilettos, again, pink of course. You look divine, he muses, watching you make your way down the stairs, the picture of beauty and femininity. He takes you into his arms the moment you reach the bottom floor.
“You look beautiful, my love,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your jaw, “Absolutely beautiful.” His gaze falls to the hollow of your throat, eyes lighting up as he remembers something unknown to you, “Close your eyes, baby.”
You acquiesce immediately, long lashes fluttering shut as you wait for him to tell you to open them again. You feel him lead you to the mirror in your entrance foyer, his hands deftly fastening something around your neck before he tells you to open your eyes. You gasp at what you see - a beautiful silver necklace, inlaid with pink diamonds and fine crystals. You trace the extravagant piece with your fingertips.
“Oh, Coryo, it’s beautiful!”
He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around you, whispering, “Everyone’s eyes will be on us tonight, my love. Let’s give them something to stare at.”
You smile at him, giggling softly as his hands move to squeeze your hips, lingering near your ass, “Okay, we should go, I guess?”
He nods, taking your arm, but not before presenting you with a white rose to place on your dress, making you smile. Coryo opens the door to the limo for you, ever the perfect gentleman, admiring the way your dress hugs your plump little ass as you climb inside, him coming in after you. The lights of the Capitol pass you by as your chauffeur takes you to the President’s residence, but the only thing you can think about is the feeling of Coryo’s hand, moving up your thigh, dangerously close to where he wishes to touch you the most. You give him a pout, shaking your head, stopping the path of his hand.
“Nope.”
He looks at you, surprised, “But, darling-”
“Last time we did this, all the press talked about for a month were the hickeys you left on my neck!”
He smirks at how adorable you look when you try to stand your ground and say no to him, squeezing your thigh, “Maybe we can make headlines again…”
“Coryo,” you whine, making him snicker, “We said no more limo quickies!”
“Come on,” he teases, “Let me have a little fun before I have to shake hands with all these assholes.”
He loves how innocent you act, squirming when his fingers ghost along your core. You’re so sweet, so pretty and adorable on the outside. But he knows you like it just as filthy and nasty as he does. You shake your head again.
“Nuh uh. I’m showing up looking perfect. No messed up hair. No rips in my dress. No hickeys.”
Coryo grumbles to himself, crossing his arms and pulling away from you. He leans back in his seat, thinking to himself that he’s going to get at what’s underneath that dress before the night is over, one way or another. You look too damn good for him to resist. And tonight’s supposed to be a celebration for him after all. He deserves this. He deserves everything you can give.
It’s not your first time here, but when you pull into the driveway of the President’s residence, you are once again struck by the sheer opulence of the place. You’ve grown up in the lap of luxury, sure, but this is another level. Your high heels click along the marble floor as an aide takes your stole and you and Coryo are led to the event hall, already filled with guests and journalists, and of course, President Ravinstill himself, along with the rest of the cabinet. You stand at his side, playing the part of the adoring trophy wife to perfection. He keeps his hand on your lower back, loving the feeling of your soft body against him as the two of you meet and greet everyone who is there in his honor. You charm everyone you meet, but none more so than the President.
Coryo hates it. How the dirty old geezer keeps eyeing you up and down, his gaze lingering on your cleavage, the curve of your hips, your bare shoulders. He wishes he could wring the old bastard’s neck, his jaw ticking as you do your best not to cringe when the man all but drags you to the dance floor, his paws all over you. How fucking dare he? You belong to Coryo. No one else. Only him. The President be damned. He can tell how uncomfortable you are, the tiny amount of fear in your eyes as the man continues to flirt with you. No one else can tell, but Coryo can. He’s always been able to read you like an open book. Yet, for his sake, you keep up appearances and continue the dance, only to be whisked away by your husband the moment it’s over.
He drags you to the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind you before rounding on you. You look up at him, brow furrowed in that way he’s always found so goddamn adorable.
“Coryo, what’re you doing-”
You gasp as his hand moves to your neck, just above where your necklace rests. He grips your throat, just enough to restrict your airflow, holding you in place. You can feel his cock throbbing against your thigh as he presses himself up against you. His voice is a low snarl as he finally speaks.
“Mine. No one looks at my wife like that.”
You whine softly, his thumb grazing against the hollow of your throat. You rub your thighs together, desperate for friction as you nod and mumble an affirmative, earning a smirk from your husband, his eyes blown so wide with lust that the blue of his irises is almost completely black.
“That’s a good girl.”
You remain silent as he turns you around, both of you facing the mirror. You feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blades down to the top of your dress, feeling him undo the clasp that holds it together. You allow it to fall to the floor, stepping out of it and turning to face him, gazing up at him. You chose to forego wearing a bra or panties tonight, not wanting to ruin the look of your dress, something that Coryo is endlessly grateful for. You look so perfect standing in front of him, wearing nothing but your high heels and the jewels he gifted you. His breathing grows heavier as he admires every inch of your body, his eyes roving over you ravenously.
Before he can even ask, you sink down to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes. You move to mouth at his cock over the fabric of his dress pants, giggling at the groan he lets out. Coryo moves to undo his belt and pants quickly, freeing his cock from its confines, watching as you take him between your pink lipstick-stained lips, eyes on him all the while. His hand moves into your hair, watching with delight as you move to grind yourself against his dress shoes as you suck him off, caressing his balls while he fucks your mouth. You moan against him, eyes filling with tears when he pushes himself far enough down your throat that you gag. But he knows you’ll tell him to stop if need be. You just gaze up at him with those watery eyes, holding your breath until he finally pulls out of your mouth, lifting you up onto the sink counter.
“Someone could see,” you giggle breathlessly as he lines himself up along your cunt, running the fat head of his cock against you, slapping it against your clit, reveling in the little whimper you let out.
“Let them,” he rasps as he pushes inside you with one fluid thrust, moaning at how wet and warm your sweet little pussy feels around him as he splits you open, “Let them all see and never forget who you belong to.”
His gaze falls to the jewels on your neck, the ones he gave you, as you breathe, “I belong to you, Daddy.”
Coryo chuckles darkly, lifting your thighs to wrap around his waist, “That’s right, baby. You belong to Daddy. And Daddy’s going to take what’s his.”
He loves the feeling of your stilettos digging into his muscular back as he begins pistoning his hips against yours, the sound of your whimpers filling him with a perverse pleasure he can’t even begin to describe. He’s wanted you all fucking day, and you’ve made him wait. So now? He’s going to take what he wants without any mercy. Your head falls back against the mirror as he ruts against you furiously, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the large bathroom.
“Going to fill this pretty little pussy up,” he hisses, “Watch my cum leak out of you. Going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me all week.”
“Yes, Daddy, fuck,” you manage to choke out, heels digging harder into his back, spurring him on to slot his hips against you even faster, harder, the head of his cock rubbing up against your sweet spot, making you whine pathetically, “Fuck, yes, Daddy, right there, oh my God!”
One of his hands moves to your throat again, eyes locked on yours as he squeezes slightly, fucking into you with abandon, knowing that it’s entirely possible you can be heard back at the party. But he wants them to hear the noises his pretty baby makes. Noises that only he can get you to make. Your tits bounce with each snap of his hips, making him smirk as he thinks to himself how pretty they’ll look when he knocks you up, all full, his lips wrapped around them, fuck, he can hardly contain himself. He’s going to breed you, his pretty little wife who he’s fucked so stupid all she can do is gaze up at him with parted lips, gasping for breath.
He lets out a low groan as you squeeze around him, squealing his name, spilling himself deep inside you mere moments later, his hot spend coating your walls, making you moan softly.
You stay like that, eyes locked on each other for a long moment, before you hear someone knock, asking if the bathroom’s occupied. Coryo quickly helps you off of the counter, back into your dress, both of you fixing yourselves up to make it seem like nothing happened. That’s when you see it.
You hadn’t even noticed him kissing your neck while the two of you were fucking, too blissed out by the feeling of being stretched open on his cock, but there it is.
“I look like I got mauled by a muttation!” You whine, giving him a pitiful look, “Coryo!”
He chuckles, kissing your neck right over the hickey, “You look like your daddy took what’s his.”
You giggle, nuzzling up against him as he leads you out of the bathroom, knowing eyes following the pair of you as you question, “How long till we can go home?”
Coryo presses a kiss to your temple, “Let’s just say a few more hello’s and then we can head back for round two.”
You nod, smiling to yourself happily.
As the night winds down and you get into the limo, you seat yourself in Coryo’s lap, sighing, burying your face in the crook of his neck as his arms wrap around you, “You should be President.” You giggle, “Then people will be too afraid to look at me or dance with me.”
Coryo arches a brow, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing your supple flesh, “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d make an adorable First Lady.” You nod and yawn softly, nuzzling up against him, prompting him to ask, his voice a bit more gentle now, “You sleepy, little one?”
You nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Mhm.”
“Then close your eyes and sleep,” he coos, stroking your face with the back of his hand, affectionate evident in his gaze, “Daddy has you.”
“Wake me up when we get home?” You request, “You promised round two.”
He chuckles, nodding at your words before pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I did promise that, didn’t I?”
“Uh huh. And since you’re a big fancy government man now, you have to keep your promises,” you say, your voice so adorably innocent that it makes his chest ache, “It’s illegal if you don’t.”
Coryo laughs, kissing your cheek, letting his lips linger against your skin, “I’ll always deliver on my promises to you, baby. Don’t wanna risk getting arrested,” he jokes, loving the soft little laugh you let out.
“Love you, Coryo,” you mumble as you drift off, “Congrats, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
He holds you tight, gazing at you with all the love he possesses. The subtle rise and fall of your chest fills him with excitement as he thinks of what’s to come when you get home, but he can’t stop thinking about what you said.
That he should be President. That no one would dare look at you if he were.
A smirk crosses his lips.
“I love you too, baby.”
The Hunger Games Masterlist
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Finnick Odair-
Sleepless
Finnick says those three special words
Sweet giggle
Reuniting with Finnick
Peeta Mellark-
Baking
Katniss Everdeen-
Returning home
-Finnick Odair x Victor!reader
{Finnick strives to make you laugh for the first time since you’ve won your games}
Enjoy my lovelies💕
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Words were a hard thing to get out of you recently, you were so closed off… skittish, almost as if you were afraid of your own voice. Finnick couldn’t blame you in fact there’s not a bone in his body that could ever be mad at your recent behaviour, he understood better than most people.
He watches you with a soft expression as you sit at the kitchen table, losing yourself in a new puzzle. He admires the calm look in your eyes and the way you shift the pieces into the correct places with gentle hands whilst he prepares dinner, his eyes flicking over to you every now and then to keep a close eye on you.
The faint sound of rain pattering against the windows only seems to add to the tranquillity of the evening. Then the silence breaks, and your voice softly reaches his ears, “I’m stumped.” It shocks him a little, it’s evident in the way his eyes widened slightly.
“Stumped?… lemme take a look, honey.” He replies back to you, keeping his voice hushed as he walks over to you resting his palms against the wooden table to lean over you. His gaze flickering over the puzzle, studying the pieces with narrowed, concentrated eyes.
It takes only a second for him to pick the piece you’re looking for, gently snapping it into place with a smirk on his lips. “Oh… thank you.” You whisper softly, looking up at him with a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.
There’s a certain patience in Finnick, never condescending in the way he speaks or looks at you. If anything he’s the glue that holds you together, constantly there to anchor you back to reality whenever your mind drifts further than you can reach.
The memories were the worst part, you seemed to have a difficult time remembering what was real and what was fake… which caused you to forget a lot. Those special moments you shared with Finnick before the games are now tainted with a stain you couldn’t clear off.
Although there are moments where it flickers back slightly like embers of a fire that leaves a tingling warmth across your skin. The smallest things set it off, music for example. Soft notes of a familiar tune echo through the kitchen, there’s a sense of safety within the lyrics.
Finnick knows you remember the song and the moment you shared with him. It’s in the way your eyes glisten with fondness and that ever-so-small smile that begins to crack at the corner of your lips.
The pair of you glance at each other simultaneously as the gentle notes ricochet through the room. Finnick smirks over at you, extending his hand to you with a soft nod of his head. He waits for you to take him up on the opportunity, never forcing your hand.
He watches patiently as the hesitation flickers through your expression and relief washes over his expression as you stand up from the chair, your hand slipping into his slightly rough one.
“Do you remember this song?” He asks with a teasing edge to his tone although his expression soon melts with tenderness as you nod your head shyly and he takes this moment to place his hand against your hip.
Finnick brings you into him before gently swaying you both side from side. “I could never forget.” You whisper back to him and your words only fuel him to hold you closer.
Your shoulders relax and a sigh escapes your lips as you rest your head against Finnicks chest, the scent of sea salt and firewood sits against his skin and lingers within his clothes. It’s homely… warm within his arms, nothing can hurt you and those painful memories of the games take a backseat in your muddled-up mind.
The pair of you continue to sway gently, taking it one note at a time as you let the music carry you both. You feel Finnick’s chest vibrate slightly as he lets out a soft chuckle and before you can even ask why you’re suddenly being spun around, your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you back into him.
His hands fall to your hips and then he hears it, the sweet giggle that you let out and he freezes in place. It’s a sound that sends a familiar warmth blooming within his chest. “I love you.” He whispers, his hands caressing your hips and then up to your waist.
Your smile widens slightly at his words and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him to you closely as he starts to press kisses all over your face. “I love you too.” You giggle in between the ticklish kisses.
The sight makes his heart swell with devotion. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you like this, so at peace and so happy, he makes a silent promise to keep it this way for as long as he possibly can.