the hunger games imagines

WITH AN IRON-CLAD FIST - CORIOLANUS SNOW

PAIRING | coriolanus x fem!reader
CAST | coriolanus snow
WC | 3.3k
GENRE | smut, enemies to lovers (kinda)
WARNINGS | explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), possessive dirty talk, coryo is toxic we all know (but he's hot), mc has a present mother and father, mc's mother is toxic too ://
SYNOPSIS | you receive a marriage proposal from a man you haven't seen in years—a man that you've always seen from afar; the president himself, coriolanus snow.
A/N | requested by @whatudowhennooneseesyou on tumblr!!

—

Coriolanus was many things.

At first, he was just a boy.

The very same boy that you had class with at the Academy; memories of swirling scarlet skirts and messy blonde waves ever-so-slightly hiding two icy blue eyes.

He didn't mean much to you then—hell, how could he? You weren't as naive as a majority of your classmates; you could see through all of his poorly veiled lies, just as clearly as you could see through the thin, worn linen of his hand me down dress shirt whenever he took off that trademark red blazer (often in the summer months). Every so often you'd catch yourself staring, your upper lip almost turned up in a grimace as he shamelessly pretended, turned off his emotions so that he was purely unable to—rather than refusing to—realize that he was lying to everyone around him, building up a fake life on a fragile web of lies.

At times he almost disturbed you, especially when you'd catch his eye. A single frozen iris, mimicking the almost periwinkle like color of the blue asters that grew outside the courtyard. He'd only stare into your eyes for a moment before looking away and hiding behind that curtain of corn silk like hair, but that moment was long enough to make your stomach erupt in butterflies.

More like tracker jackers, if you were to be honest.

Then, he was suddenly, irreversibly yours.

Months passed after the Hunger Games of that year, and with every passing day the once constant and vibrant chatter about the surprise of the century faded. Along with that came autumn, the first autumn in four years that you didn't don that very same red blazer and skirt—for you (and Coriolanus) had graduated that past summer. It seemed as if everything came to a head at once; when it rains it pours, and pour it certainly did.

"A marriage proposal?" you asked your mother incredulously over tea one afternoon.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," your mother replies, the corners of her mouth permanently etched downwards into a frown. It were as if she were saying, I have no idea why he'd choose you. Her disapproving glare, once harmful to your ego, has no effect on you. Nor does the edge in her voice.

Stirring some more sugar in your tea solely to do something with your hands, you chew on your inner cheek, mulling over what your mother had just said.

A fine, proper man phoned for you earlier. He goes by the name Coriolanus Snow.

Your mother's voice echoes in your ears, and you choke on the tea as you try to take a sip and analyze the situation at the same time—it was inevitable, and you hear your mother sigh as she daintily wipes her own red lips with a cloth napkin.

You excuse yourself from the parlor, your eyes watering with tears, and your mother fails to acknowledge your departure. Once again, your ego is unharmed, and as you calm yourself you find your feet slowly inching towards the videophone that's hung on the wall, your appendages twitching with curiosity and a hint of disgust—memories of that same, sickly boy from the Academy flooding your mind. He proposed marriage to you?

Surely, there must be some mistake. You're not offended by the proposal—if anything, you're flattered. The once melancholy man was now a renowned, successful politician, and the youngest president of Panem. And though it was extremely difficult for you to connect that cold, stoic figure on your television to the nearly silent boy in your classes, you couldn't help but lust for the power and money he could give you. But why you? Why now?