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#thg fic
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I think if peeta even got a sniffle Katniss would go fucking feral, drop everything and take care of him (and get sick herself)
ABSOLUTELY SHE WOULD. She'd call her mom like, "he's dying, what do I do?" Peeta's in the background like, "Hi Mrs. Everdeen, I just have seasonal allergies, I took some Zyrtec, everything is fine! "YOU'RE DYING, SHUT UP AND GO TO BED BEFORE I KILL YOU." BUT NOW Now, Anon? Now i get to talk about what I think happens when KATNISS gets sick. And spoiler alert, it's GREAT. The first time Katniss gets sick after the war, she doesn't tell anyone. She just locks herself in her house, puts a note on the door saying that she's fine and to come back tomorrow hoping that Sae sees it and doesn't bother with cooking anything for her. She grabs some remedies, a box of plain crackers, a blanket, some water, and trudges her way upstairs back to bed. A few hours later she hears a loud crash in the kitchen. She waddles and sniffles her way downstairs to the sight of a cursing Peeta, sprawled on the kitchen floor, while his prosthetic is dangling from the open window above the sink. "What are you doing?" she says in a congested voice, "I left a note on the door." She moves over to the window to unlatch his prosthesis from where it got snagged on the windowsill. "This," he says, brandishing the crumpled paper in the air, "is NOT enough of an explanation. People were worried. Haymitch was worried..." He glances away at that. "Haymitch? Bullshit." she snorts as she bends down to reattach his leg. She stays down when she's done realizing that she's feeling a little unsteady on her feet. "Fine. FINE! I was worried. What's going on? Did I do something wrong?" "No! Of course not. It-it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just sick. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you tomorr-." She's struggling to get back up when she feels the air whoosh around her and realizes that Peeta has picked her up to carry her over to the couch. "Sick? What's wrong? Have you taken anything? Let me make you some tea, or do you want soup? I can make soup." he's rambling as he presses the back of his hand to her clammy forehead. "I really am okay. I got this. I'll be fine, Peeta." she says, pushing his hand away from her face and regretting it immediately at the loss of contact. "Katniss. Please let me do this, okay? This is what you and I do, right? That's what you said. Now, tell me where you keep your bouillon. I'm making some chicken stock and a good soup for you." That's when it hits Katniss. She hasn't really been taken care of like this in years. Maybe since she was 11. For years now, her mother would do her best to take care of her during the occassional cold, of course. But for the most part Katniss struggled to accept any softness or warmth from her mother. Feeling caught between that desire to be held and comforted and the anger she still felt towards her - they instead both settled for the distant, clinical detachment her mother had with her other patients. But, really, the last nearly 7 years of her life have been dedicated to the care of her family and her loved ones. She learned to stop asking for things and began instead to meet all of her own needs, without relying on others. After the games she'd begun the process of extending that branch and allowing herself to lean on her mother a little more. But now? Now her mother isn't here. And here she was right back to what she knew. Taking care of herself. Looking up at Peeta, blue eyes shining in earnest. Ready to do and be anything that is needed of him. Anything that SHE needs of him. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and smiles. "Pantry. Top shelf. On the right. Thank you, Peeta."
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vasilissadragomir · 22 hours
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Us Among the Living Chapter 13 out now on ao3!
enjoy this long ass chapter!! y'all deserve it. this is a very everlarky chapter in this everlark fic so if you're here for the everlark you will not be disappointed!
also i'm working through all the comments!! i appreciate them so much thank you for sharing your thoughts with me it's why i write this fic <333
also happy passover friends!!
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ervotica · 5 months
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“shhh, shhh..I know, I know..” with finnick pls 🥺
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: this takes place after the poison fog, r is badly injured and finnick takes care of her
hunger games masterlist
You twitch against Finnick’s chest in the tall grass, rough like sandpaper against your wounded face. You’re covered head to toe in blisters from the fog, eyes half lidded as you begin to lose consciousness from the pain.
Katniss’ strangled wail is muffled and far away in your ears and you barely register the words.
“The water! The water helps.”
You drag yourself from where you’ve collapsed on top of your fiancé; crawling along on your elbows, you make it a couple of feet at most before you’re exhausted; your entire body is burning, skin raw, every little touch flaring up every nerve ending inside of you.
There’s a rustling next to you as Finnick is lifted and dragged to the shallow pool of water a few feet away; there’s a splash and a gurgled scream as Katniss and Peeta start to clean his blistered skin.
“Finnick,” you gasp, your concern for him overriding the searing pain for a split second. “Finn,” you croak again, eyes heavy.
It’s quiet for a minute, the only sound the whispering of leaves brushing against each other. All the while you lay face down, trying to peel your eyes open where they feel like they’ve been superglued shut.
Thick fingers pull at your jaw and your head turns; your neck is stiff and the touch feels like the lick of a flame against your bulging wounds.
“C’mon,” It’s Peeta. “Gotta get you to the water.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got her,” comes Finnick’s voice and his hands pull you up by the armpits. You hiss and squirm away from his hold, the skin on skin contact causing too much pain.
“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” He speaks in that soft voice you love, the one reserved just for you. “It’ll feel better soon.”
He lowers you into the water and you scream. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, white-hot and scalding. It’s like you’re bleeding from every pore.
“Shhh, shhh… I know, I know.” He winces as the blisters start to lodge free from your skin and you relax, sagging in his arms.
“‘S better,” you slur. Your eyes snap open as you grapple for purchase against Finnick’s neck; your thumb rubs circles into his cheek. “You’re okay? You’re sure you’re okay?”
He laughs, incredulous that even at a time like this, he’s where your worries lie. Pointed teeth glare back at you as you thumb at his bottom lip and smile.
“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”
“I feel better. I’m okay now.”
His muscular arms engulf you, wrapping around your waist now it’s finally safe to touch you again.
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
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cold nights masterlist
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“gonna hold my breath until you're here 'cause i can't breathe without you."
summary:
all the stars aligned, and it was you.
word count: ...
tags/warnings:
tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
authors note: hi again!! its raye back with another coryo series (shocking absolutely no one). i know i said i wanted to stray from the plot so i wanted to see what i could do with tribute!reader that's not just a copy-paste of lucy gray's story (which i eat up every time btw, no tea no shade) so this one is going to be very different from the original and something totally different from LTPF!! i hope you guys love this as much as you loved that one!!
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season one
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve
season two
thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two
season three
twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty one, thirty-two.
oneshots
moodboards
black friday
edits
i feel it
playlist
all your thoughts // let’s talk ab it
masterlists // fic recs // nav (please read!)
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har-rison-s · 4 months
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whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader
a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading
talk to me about coryo here
previous chapter next chapter
coryo masterlist main masterlist
word count: 7.2k (sawrry)
themes: smut
warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd
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gif credit goes to owner <3
something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.
her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 
what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 
y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 
she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 
the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.
“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.
“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.
as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 
“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.
Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.
y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.
“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 
“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.
“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 
she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 
y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.
his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.
last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 
and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 
he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 
his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.
she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 
“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 
having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 
but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 
he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 
god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 
y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 
“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 
“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 
“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.
he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 
Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 
he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 
y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.
Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.
“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 
suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 
“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.
“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 
Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 
he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 
“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 
y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 
y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.
“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 
“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 
“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.
“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 
he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 
“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 
but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 
but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 
“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 
“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 
“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.
he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 
his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 
“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 
“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 
“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 
“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 
“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 
“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 
she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 
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lovekendri · 1 year
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inexperienced | peeta mellark
request: hey! can you do headcanons or a fic about your first time, um, “doing the deed” with peeta? or like how he would be with someone who’s inexperienced. thank you! i love your writing 🤍 - anon
omg i love this! thank you so much for the request AND being my first request!! i'm a bit newer to writing smut, so i hope it lives up to your expectations! ♡
peeta mellark x fem!reader
summary: it's your first time, and your boyfriend, peeta, is determined to make sure your first time is magical.
cw: 18+ only! fluffy smut, p in v, soft and hard dom!peeta, inexperienced!reader, established relationship, first time, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)
wc: 2.9k
type: ✽ | ❀
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As you poured another glass of a fancy sparkling pomegranate juice to end off the bottle, you tossed it into the bin next to the table and walked yourself over to the couch where Haymitch and Peeta sat, the room still buzzing with other District 12 residents.
The television was on, playing some sort of instrumental music, but you could barely hear it over the chatter in the room.
Haymitch and Peeta were deep in conversation about Haymitch's new relationship with Effie, and you've never seen Haymitch look so happy to talk about something.
You sat down next to Peeta, and you could tell he was ready to leave soon, probably after he finished the conversation.
You had indulged in homemade bread from Peeta with oil and vinegar all night, as well as fresh berries picked from the bushes in front of your house with the sparkling juice, and you were starting to get tired of eating to cure the boredom.
You had followed Peeta around all night like a lost puppy, and it wasn't a good look for you, but you were ready to go home after a few conversations.
"I personally didn't expect Effie to be your first choice," Peeta snorted, "I thought she drove you crazy."
Instead of paying attention to the rest of the conversation like you should've, you began to fully admire your boyfriend for the first time all night.
He wore a gray button up with the top two buttons undone, the sleeves tucked up around his forearms. It was tucked into a pair of blue jeans that appeared slightly too tight, the fabric straining against his legs. Finishing off the outfit with a brown belt. He sat manspreading, holding a bottle of something you couldn't see, the logo hidden in his hands, but you knew it wasn't alcohol.
Looking at him tonight brought a different feeling to your chest and stomach, an odd, tingly feeling you hadn't very much felt before around him. Watching him talk, watching his lips move as he responded to Haymitch, the nod of approvals he would give.
"But anyways, you two better get going," Haymitch said as you tuned in to the conversation once again, standing up from the old couch you all sat on. It was getting later in the night, and you were thankful for him to say that, as it was almost one in the morning.
Peeta stood up as well, taking your hand to help you up from sinking into the couch.
"Alright, good to see you," Haymitch said, giving Peeta a small hug, and clapping him on the back, like a brother would do.
Haymitch turned to you, and reached out for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a short hug before pulling away from him.
"I'll see you tomorrow, probably," you said, smiling, subtly reminding Haymitch of your lunch plans tomorrow.
"Of course you will, sweetheart," he gave you a small clap on the back, weaker than Peeta's, but still a loving tap. A small lopsided smile appeared on his face and he turned away.
"You ready to go?" Peeta asked, looking down at you.
His eyes were trained on you, reminding you of what you felt just seconds ago about the tingling of your stomach and the tightness in your chest.
"Yeah," you smiled, trying to hide the fact you could feel the blush creeping up your face as you looked past him toward the coat rack near the door.
He grabbed your hand once again, grabbing your coat and slinging it over your shoulders, not bothering to have you put it on when you're a mere twenty feet away from his house.
You waved goodbye to any people who were paying attention at the slowly dying party, and walked out the door, hand in hand with Peeta.
"You enjoy the juice?" he asked as you reached the sidewalk, playfully giving you a little shove to the shoulder to knock you off balance a bit.
"You know I did," you replied, recovering your feet and taking his muscular arm in both of your hands. The crisp, cool air of the night nipped at your cheeks, and the leftover snow from the recent fall crunched beneath your feet.
It was a short walk, and by now you were at the door of Peeta's house. He took the keys out of his pocket to unlock his front door. The light over the door was still on, coating the walkway you stood on in a dim, yellow light.
"You looked beautiful tonight," he said as he unlocked the door, pushing in the door with more force than intended.
"Thank you, you looked rather handsome yourself," you replied, hearing a small chuckle escape his throat at your comment.
Without bothering to turn on the lights, he walked through the living room to reach his bedroom, and you ran inside before him to kick off your shoes and jump on his bed.
The softness of the mattress engulfed your body, and you rolled into the knitted quilt on top of his bed.
Tonight felt like a cuddling night, but something about the air felt different.
"Save some room for me," he said, having just taken off his shoes.
The feeling you had earlier watching him rose in your body again as he set his knee on the edge of the bed, climbing over to your side and collapsing next to you with a hand on your hip.
You turned to your side, throwing a side of the quilt on top of him.
"There's plenty of room for you," you said, looking down past his jaw. You saw the same outfit as before, but now his belt was slightly looser, his shirt half untucked. You tried your best to avoid looking toward his jeans, but you didn't have to force yourself anyways.
"Eyes are up here, darling," Peeta's hand reached out gently to your jaw, lifting your face to look at him.
Your face heating up immediately, you made eye contact with him. A small grin was growing on his face, a cheeky smirk you'd seen so often. He kissed you with the same pecks he always did when you were cuddling, but even after you'd kissed him hundreds of times the same way, you couldn't shake the feeling that something felt different tonight.
Doing your best to ignore the prying thought, you snuggled up to his warm body, basically steam rolling him to get on top of him. You laid on top of him, one of his hands loosely around your waist and the other lightly stroking your back. Your arms hooked under his.
After a while of laying in silence listening to each other breathe, you started to close your eyes, letting comfort and sleep take you over. Just as you began to feel the entire pull of sleep, you felt him sharply exhale. He dug his face into the crook of your neck at the same time his hand grabbed tightly onto your hip.
"You've never had sex, have you?" he murmured lowly.
The question startled you, increasing your heartbeat and waking you from any slumber that started to take you over. You turned your face into his neck as well, too embarrassed to lift your head and face him when you felt the heat radiating off your cheeks.
Is this what felt different? Did the air feel different because Peeta wanted to have sex with you?
"Absolutely," you say, the uneasiness in your voice a dead giveaway that you most definitely have not.
He knew you, he knew you hadn't. In fact, he knew that he was the only boy you had ever dated, the only boy who you'd ever kissed.
"Oh, really?" he says, his hands sliding from where they rested to lightly graze over the back of your thighs and your ass, one hand giving a light squeeze to your thigh.
A barely audible but obviously desperate exhale escaped your lips, your head dropping down completely to his shoulder.
He had never touched you like this before. Butterflies were exploding in your stomach, your chest and throat growing tighter as he continued to move his hand over the hills of your body.
"I thought so, baby," he whispered. "It's okay."
He didn't stop moving his hand, but his head dropped back down to the bed, an exhale leaving his own lips.
"Would you let me be your first time?" he said breathily, his hand moving up to rub over your back once again.
You felt like you couldn't say anything, your throat feeling so closed with his hands touching you in ways you'd never felt before, the feeling of his rough hands stroking across your body was enough to send you spiraling.
He noticed your silence, moving his hands to sit up. You refused to let go of your tight hold on his body, trying to catch your breath from the unnecessarily overwhelming feeling blossoming in your stomach.
"C'mon, baby. Talk to me," he whispered.
"Please, Peeta," your voice came out strangled. It didn't sound like your own, plagued by the tightness of your throat and the desperate want for him to touch you like he was before.
It took him a moment to register what you said.
"That's my girl."
His hands reached up to your arms, gently prying them away from his body in order to get you off of him.
He laid you gently on the bed, and you felt like a total mess. You knew you shouldn't be so obsessed with the way he was making you feel, but it felt so right to be touched by him, to be held in the erotic ways you didn't know he wanted.
He was on top of you, his arms out straight and his legs on the outside of yours blocked a cage around your body. You were in for it now.
At first though, he only kissed you.
The low light of the room added to the needy ambiance of the room. Kissing felt more erotic, less controlled, the way his lips moved familiarly but yet so foreign at the same time, the soft dominancy from him that you'd never felt before threatening to take you over. The way he would stop to take a short breath before continuing to kiss you, sometimes biting your lip as he pulled away. When you felt one of his hands creep up your hips onto your breasts, it was an explosion of feelings you hadn't had before.
Your gasp almost breaking the kiss, you felt him grin against your lips as his hand slipped under your shirt to run it over your torso.
His touch was so gentle, so polite, allowing you to feel the entire moment of what he was doing to you. Again though, it was so different from ways he had touched you before. So new and arousing.
His kisses began to trail down your cheek to your jaw, down your neck, and back up to your lips. He kissed you all over the neck, anywhere he could.
You felt so many butterflies and tingles in your stomach, and a warm heat between your thighs growing as he touched you more, lips and hands working in unison to sweetly prepare you.
His hand now moving down to pull the waistband of your pants ever so slightly down, pausing his kisses. He took the moment to move a knee between your legs, giving them a little nudge to open.
His eyes met yours, darkened with arousal and excitement. His lips were swollen and slick with saliva, his cheeks a light rosy tint.
"You ready?" he murmured, watching your face closely.
Though you were so nervous, you were eager.
You wanted this to happen, the more he touched you and the more he caressed your body allowed to the heat between your legs to grow, the unfamiliar tingles and butterflies in your stomach fluttered with anticipation. He was all you ever dreamt of, and the way his eyes bored into yours with lust and hungriness, you were as ready as you'd ever be.
"Yes," you forced out, the constriction of your throat still very prominent.
You watched as the grin on his face grew to a sinister smile, his eyes squinting with pride. He removed your pants with such swiftness you'd barely noticed, and he took the time to admire your bottomless body. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but something he got to see in a totally different manner.
He exhaled sharply, pushing a rough hand into your panties, a finger sliding through slick folds.
He wasn't near being inside you, but the first few circles around your clit felt like heaven, your mouth opening in shock and a strangled gasp forcing its way through. A white heat began to grow in your stomach quickly, and you pushed your head into the softness of the bed.
"Attagirl," he whispered, praise quickly falling out of his mouth as he watched you squirm underneath his fingers.
A slick finger suddenly pushed through you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. His fingers worked magic on your clit while he pushed his finger in and out of you.
"Yeah, baby?"
Heat, heat, and more heat grew, the pleasure becoming almost overwhelming under your boyfriend's control, the praises coming out of his stupidly pretty face driving your body insane.
Gasps sweetened with whimpers and small moans fell out of your mouth like a sailor's cusses, your eyes screwed shut as Peeta worked your body perfectly. In no time, he pushed in a second finger, earning a loud gasp and a grab to his forearm, his legs tightening around your leg to keep you from wiggling away.
"You feelin' good, love?" he whispered. You could hear the curl of his evil smile, absolutely delighted to be making you feel the way you were. You desperately nodded your head, your grip on his arm growing tighter as the heat in your stomach grew, an overwhelming feeling threatening to fall.
He felt your walls beginning to tighten, and pulled his fingers out.
"Why?" you whined, the feeling in your stomach immediately dripping down to the small heat you had before. You grabbed for his hand, wanting him to make you feel amazing again, but he pulled it away from you.
"No, sweetheart, I want you to experience more than just my hand."
You watched as he undid the rest of his belt from before, your jaw falling open slightly in shock as he unbuttoned his jeans, undoing the zipper as well. His black boxers showed through the small opening in his pants now, and you could see what he was hiding beneath them.
"You okay?" he asked, aware of your jaw now basically on the floor. You nodded at his question, snapping your jaw shut once again.
Your face was hot, your body was shaking a little. You were so ready in anticipation of how he was going to make you feel. You didn't dare look at him, because you knew that you were basically going to finish at just the sight.
"You're sure you're ready?" he said, a hand holding steady on your hip and the other you could only assume holding his cock.
You nodded, your hands going to the quilt for a hold on something, your body beginning to tense.
"Good girl."
You felt him push into you.
A loud gasp pushed from your throat, your body jerking in surprise. He definitely filled you out, your eyes rolling back and heat beginning to grow again.
"What's wrong?" he said, the concerned tone in his voice loud, keeping still inside you.
"No, no, keep going," you whined, your eyes screwing shut.
He began to move slowly, only pushing in a few inches every time, preparing you for the full.
The friction felt so good, quiet moans falling out of your mouth as he pushed more and more inside of you, growing faster with each movement of his hips.
He pushed all the way into you, hitting a spot that sent white heat coursing through your body, electrifying, your vision blanked.
He dragged his cock out once again, pushing all the way inside of you once more.
The tingly heat grew quickly in your stomach as he found a medium pace, cock sliding easily in and out of your cunt with his hands gripping tightly on your hips.
"You look so pretty underneath me," he praised, so close to pushing you over the edge.
Uncontrolled moans forced themselves out of your throat, the heat building up so close to a release. His hips became sloppier and uncontrolled, his pace increasing as he worked to finish.
With one harsh thrust, your vision went white and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. A loud cry left your mouth as you came, your legs tightening around his hips.
He finished quickly after you, his thrusts extremely sloppy.
Pulling out of you, he collapsed next to you and pulled you into his arms, his body warm. You were both breathing heavily, his muscular arms engulfing you in a blanket of comfort,
"I love you so much," he murmured, tucking his head down, his forehead rested on top of your head.
"I love you," you whispered, "thank you."
He didn't say anything, kissing the top of your head and tightening his arms around your body.
"Thank you, pretty girl."
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main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof read: ✓
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phoward89 · 1 month
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Based on this ask
Angst factor for this is thru the roof! And guess what? It's a series! I'm thinking this is going to have at least 3 parts. Masterlist
Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), eventual smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker! Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC.
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Chapter 1:
“I'm going home, find some other dumb whore to fuck.” You spat, flipping the blankets off your body and making to get out of the platinum blonde’s bed.
“Darling, don't be rash. Come back to bed.” Coriolanus told you, reaching his long arm out and wrapping his large hand around your wrist before you could truly move away from the bed.
“Come back to bed after you just told me that you're going to marry Livia Cardew?!” You screamed at him, feeling like you wanted to yank his pretty platinum blond curls right out of his head. “Are you nuts, Coriolanus?”
The man, whose beauty rivaled that of the Roman and Greek gods, narrowed his baby blues at you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he told you, “Stop overreacting, darling. It's an arranged marriage that doesn't mean anything.”
You arched a brow and tilted your head at him. “Oh, so that's supposed to make me feel better? Make everything okay?” You sarcastically asked, yanking your arm out of his grasp and flying out of his bed.
His king sized bed with the luxurious crimson satin sheets that you'll never inhabit again.
“Y/N-” Coriolanus began, only for you to loudly cut him off with a shriek of, “Don't, Coriolanus. Don't say a fucking word to me.” Shaking your head, you ironically scoffed, “I should've seen this coming. After all these years of sneaking around with you, I should've known that you'd pick some rich bitch to marry and have a family with.” Gathering your clothes, that were scattered all over the room, you heartbrokenly spat, “Not your poor neighbor girl that's only good for a good fuck whenever you're bored or need to get some pent up aggression out.”
“You're not-” Coriolanus began, icy blue eyes softening with an unchecked emotion (perhaps guilt?), as he watched you toss your things on the white rose upholstered bench at the foot of his bed.
“I love you, Coriolanus.” You softly sighed, barely loud enough for him to hear, while tossing your ruined lace panties at him. What use were the lacey things all torn to shreds?
Not much.
You grabbed your matching lace bra, quickly putting it on, while muttering, "I foolishly fell in love with you and you don't give a shit about me.” You’re on the verge of tears as you grab your dress. While pulling on your dress, you sadly sighed, “Never did and never will, but I guess I was hoping that maybe you would, but I was such a dumbass.”
Your words hit Coriolanus hard, like a 2x4 in the head hard. He never knew that you felt like this. Crawling over to the end of the bed, causing his pure white silk duvet to pool and crinkle around him, he reached out and took your hand in his before you could turn away to grab your heels. He looked at your face, silently willing you to look into his icy blue eyes (but you refused to give him the satisfaction- that manipulative fuck).
But maybe if you would've looked at his eyes you would've seen that they weren't gleaming or shining. That his icy blue eyes were dead and empty, like those of a shark.
Giving up on you looking at him, the platinum blonde man (who had his political dreams within reach) began to tell you in a velvety tone, “My darling rose, you’re not a dumbass. I'm sorry you're hurt, but-'”
But before he could continue his lies (Are they lies? Who knows, but you think they are.) you cut him off with, “Don't even finish your sentence. Just shut the fuck up and let me leave with whatever little piece of dignity I have left.”, while forcefully yanking your hand out of his.
“I won't shut the fuck up because I don't want you to leave.” Coriolanus told you, scrambling out of the bed, his long legs nearly tripping him as he chased after you.
You’re grabbing your heels as he tries to reason with you. “Announcing my engagement with Livia and marrying her is so I can gain political allies and power. It has nothing to do with love, in fact I hate her.” While sliding on your black kitten heels, a pricey designer pair with red sole bottoms- a gift from him (probably for your services…), he placed one of his large calloused hands on your shoulder. Coriolanus’ baritone was softer than usual as he revealed, “I want to be with you.”
“You don't want to be with me, you just want me as your mistress so you can have your kinky fucks.” You told him, pushing his hand off of your shoulder. Marching over to his dresser and grabbing your bag (some imported designer leather tote bag- dyed a deep shade of crimson- he gave you, most likely because you let him do whatever he wants to you between the sheets), you told him the blunt truth of, “You don't love me and I'm not going to stick by your side as your mistress.” Shouldering your bag, that matched the color of the manicure you just had done (which he insisted on paying for), you declared, “I deserve somebody to love me with their whole heart, not just their dick, so I'm leaving and never coming back.”
“Please, don't leave.” You heard him say as you walked out of his room.
“Please, baby, don't leave me!” He frantically begged, his voice a loud shout, as he followed you down the hall in a run. Barefeet loudly slapping against the marble floor, sounding almost ominous.
Thank goodness his Grandma’am's hearing was starting to go bad, otherwise she'd be waking up and seeing one hell of a show. Also, thank goodness Tigress moved out years ago, otherwise she'd be a witness to a messy breakup.
A breakup that was long overdue.
You ignored him, only to power walk to the main entrance of the penthouse. You were almost to the door whenever you felt his cold, long fingers wrap around your wrist like an octopus’ tentacles.
“Please, stay the night. We can discuss this in the morning, just-just don't leave me, little dove.” You heard him beg, sounding so unlike his confident self.
A part of you wanted to give in; turn around and melt into his arms. But another part of you, the part that has grown up with Coriolanus and has seen him manipulate everyone around him knew that he was just saying whatever he has to in order to pull your puppet strings; make you stay.
You decided not to turn around, not to give into him. Instead you roughly pulled yourself free of his hold and walked out the door.
You knew that the platinum blonde wouldn't dare follow you, since running after you naked with his well hung junk swinging in the wind would be scandalous.
Unknown to you, after you walked out the door and slammed it shut in his face, Coriolanus quickly ran to his room and tossed on his diagarded pants and shirt from the evening. He ran out the door, barefoot and still buttoning up his wrinkled shirt, in hopes of catching you in the lobby.
Since you were in the only elevator the building has, he ran down the 12 flights of exquisite marble stairs to reach the lobby. Nearly slipping and busting his ass a couple of times too.
But when he reached the lobby it was too late, you were getting into the back of a cab you hailed. As Coriolanus ran to the door of the lobby, he felt his cold, dead, black, too small of a heart shatter into a million pieces as he watched you close the cab’s door with tears shining like diamonds in your eyes.
Seeing you crying in the back of the cab while leaving him, something he knew that neither of you wanted, made him determined to get you back.
If he thought that Lucy Gray betraying and leaving him hurt, well you leaving him because you felt that he couldn't reciprocate your feelings of love (because he was going to have an arranged marriage with Livia Cardew for political reasons) gutted him. Made him feel like he wanted to die.
Coriolanus wanted you; he always has. It's why you've been together, on-off, since your freshman year at the Academy.
He has to woo you back. He just has to.
Because the thought of you moving on with another man just doesn't sit right with him.
It doesn't matter that Coriolanus’ engagement with Livia Cardew will be publicly announced soon, he needs you back.
He can't have another bird of his flying away, can he?
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Ending your decade long on-off situationship with the Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow hurt. Oh gods, it hurt so fucking bad! You felt like you’re just going thru the motions everyday after the breakup. Like you’re just surviving, not truly living, since you’re so sad.
So heartbroken.
And what hurts the most was that, even tho you knew you could never truly be with him, you still love him.
And you'll probably always love him in a way, even tho he'll never love you. Because he's your first love; they say you never forget your first love. That you'll always have a special spot on your heart carved out just for them.
So when you saw the engagement announcement for Livia Cardew and Coriolanus Snow in the social pages of the newspaper, you thought you were going to be sick.
The picture used for the announcement was professionally done; made the newly engaged couple look so lovely together. It made you sad to say, but they did make quite a match.
Two golden lions, regal with the world at their feet. Their blonde hair, her's a dirty golden shade and his a near white platinum blonde, styled impeccably set off their beauty. A beauty that was showcased in matching black outfits, hers a black tea dress with flowing sleeves and his a 3-piece suit with a red/black striped tie.
They looked every bit a couple of the old guard. A couple worthy of money, glory, and power. You're positive that Grandma'am’s proud of him.
If only you knew how she really felt. How Grandma'am Snow always thought that it'd be you and her grandson posting an engagement announcement in the social section of the newspaper. How she's so disappointed at Coriolanus for picking a heinous bitch instead of you, a girl who's soul reminds her so much of her beloved late daughter-in-law (Coriolanus' mother).
Then you couldn't help, but think that maybe Livia’s better for Coriolanus. Better than you are for him. Maybe he'd be happier with her than with you. After all, she came with the largest bank of Panem attached to her name and you came with nothing. You had no money or jewels to offer, just yourself.
And you weren't good enough for him.
Coriolanus Snow always craved power, wealth, and prestige. None of which you could offer him. None of which you gave a shit about.
All you wanted was to be loved, but he couldn't do that for you. All the cold hearted schemer could do was buy you fancy, luxurious, expensive things.
You had no idea that gifting was his love language. That he enjoyed seeing your face light up when he presented you with some gift that you'd never be able to afford on your own. He got pleasure out of spoiling you; taking care of you.
Unfortunately for him, you’re tired of being a kept woman. You don't want him to buy you a bunch of high end things. You want him and since he can't give you his love, you left. You decided to move on.
Which is why you blocked his number, because you had to move on and find somebody that you would be more than enough for. And you couldn't do that with him blowing up your phone constantly. You also started looking for a new apartment, because you couldn't keep having him dropping off roses at your doorstep all the time.
And since your mother to lived on the 8th floor of Corso apartment the Snow penthouse was in, it was a chore to avoid Coriolanus. So, to avoid any drama with him, you had to find a new apartment. You mother agreed; told you that to make a clean break you needed to leave the area. Move on from the part of town you were raised in; lived in.
You needed to fly on your own wings.
At least your job on the marketing team for Odair Luxury Cruises was safe from him. And that job did come with a sweet perk of allowing employees the opportunity of affordable housing in a select few luxury apartments near the downtown Capitol office building the company was headquartered in.
So at least your apartment hunting wouldn't be too hard.
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You were right, your apartment hunt wasn't hard at all. In fact, due to your employment at Odair Luxury Cruises, you were able to secure yourself a 4th floor apartment at the Luxe, right in the bustling downtown of Capitol City, Panem.
Apartment #455 to be exact.
It was a lovely apartment with a courtyard view. It had 9 foot ceilings and white kitchen cabinetry in what could only be a top of the line kitchen. The open layout of the kitchen and living space has a modern feel to it. The lone bedroom in the apartment was very spacious and even had a walk-in closet; the apartment had a small study as well.
It was definitely an upgrade from your mother's apartment, which was nice due to the Plinths fixing it up after buying the building and moving onto the 11th floor roughly 4 years ago. (Unknown to you, Strabo Plinth did the bare minimum repairs to your mother's apartment and furnished it because Coriolanus asked him -more like nagged him- to.)
You're Luxe apartment wasn't as lavish as the Corso penthouse Coriolanus shares with his Grandma’am (the same penthouse he used to bring you to for all of those booty calls over the years) but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that you thought your new apartment was amazing.
And after moving in, you stopped receiving roses at your doorstep. Thank the gods. But since your new building had a doorman, you knew that was the reason you didn't have any more stalkery type floral arrangements waiting for you at your threshold.
And roughly a week or so after moving into your new place, you met your neighbor from across the hall.
#454
It was a typical morning, you had a travel mug of coffee in your hand and was dressed professionally in a pencil skirt and blouse (of course you're wearing those damn kitten heels he who shall not be named- as your older brother’s girlfriend calls your ex-fling of sorts- got you.) as you stepped out into the hallway of your apartment. Usually you never saw your neighbor across the hall, but this morning he rushed out the door- his shaggy bronze hair rustling around his shoulders- and his stunning sea-green eyes locked onto yours.
“Why, you must be new. I've never seen you before.” The tall and extremely handsome man smiles flirtatiously at you. Crossing the hall, to stand in front of you, he introduced himself. “Name’s Odysseus Odair.” Doing a little bow, he smiled a bit too brightly, “The pleasure’s all mine, my abalone pearl.”
Holy shit, is the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises your neighbor and flirting with you right now? No. No, it couldn't be. This has to be a dream.
Except it's not a dream and the heir to a large cruise company in District 4 that's based in the Capitol is really your flirty and handsome neighbor.
“You're Poseidon Odair’s son, heir to Odair Luxury Cruises?” Was all you could manage to get out.
“Yes, that's me, but your name would've worked better for your part of the introduction.” He laughed, the sound similar to the kree-ar call a seagull makes. Shaking his head, causing his bronze hair to skirt around his collared dress shirt (which has a few of the buttons undone to show off his tan and toned chest) he teased, “Usually that's how introductions work, pretty pearl, cause I already know who I am and want to know who you are.”
“I'm Y/N Halvir; I only know who you are because I work in the marketing department for your father's company.”
“Yes, your name sounds familiar.” Odysseus nods with a bright, closed lip smile that makes his cheeks dimple. “You need a ride to the office? I was heading there myself.”
You shook your head, quickly turning down his offer. “Oh, no, I don't want to bother you.”
“Oh, trust me, you won't be a bother.” He said with a flirty glint in his sea-green eyes. “In fact, we’ll go to the corner cafe; get some coffee, donuts, and call it our first date.”
You couldn't help, but giggle at his proposition. He couldn't be serious, could he?
But the way his sunshine like smile was aimed towards you made you realize that he was serious.
Which is why you smiled back and said, “Okay, let's have our first date before work.”
Holding his arm out, like a gentleman, Odysseus winked. “I'll even take you out tonight for seafood.” A sultry look appeared in his eyes as he told you, “I’ll make sure that the dessert's a mouthwatering, delicious one for our second date.”
Odysseus' innuendo didn't go unnoticed by you. And after everything you've been thru with Coriolanus, along with being single for roughly a month now, you decided that it was time to stop pouting over somebody that doesn't give a shit about you.
That it was time to let somebody new have a chance at loving you.
“That sounds like a plan.” You smiled, walking down the hallway arm in arm with the tall bronze man that was sculpted like a Greek god of old. “I'll make sure to wear a nice dress for the occasion.”
“Yes, please do. Even if I'm not one for dressing up, the place I'm taking you to does have a dress code.”
“A dress code similar to Avelina's?” You asked, assuming that whatever fancy seafood place Odysseus was taking you too would be similar in fashion sense to the restaurant Coriolanus took you to every year for your birthday, once you turned 19. (Would've been nice to go there more than once a year, but you figured your ex was just too embarrassed to be seen out in public with you too much since you weren't off the same pedigree as him).
“Ugh, I hate that place. It's so stuffy; reeks of old money.” Odysseus complained as the elevator came into view. Shaking his head, he explained, “Ocean Prime's not a black tie affair dress code, like Avelina's, but more of a nice cocktail dress and button up type of dress code.” Coming to a stop at the elevator bank, he pressed the call button for it and asked, “Do you own the classic little black dress? If so, it'd be perfect for dinner tonight.”
Nodding, you simply told him, “I own one.”
And you only owned one because all of the cocktail dresses you owned were commissioned by Coriolanus- for his cousin Tigris to design and make- and they were all various shades of white, red, and pink. You only had one little black dress because you had bought it yourself, with your own hard earned money, off of a clearance rack. It wasn't anything fancy and you never wore it, since Coriolanus always wanted you to match him if and when he took you somewhere.
So, tonight your little black dress will finally get worn. Worn for your second date with a man who seems warm like sunshine with sea-green eyes that twinkle dreamily.
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It's been nearly a month since you left Coriolanus and he's not taking it too well. He never thought that you'd truly leave him. He always just assumed that you'd be there.
He knows now that he took you for granted. It's something that he regrets everyday, whether he admits it or not.
And what gnaws at Coriolanus is how you ignored every single attempt he made to win you back. Blocking his number and moving to a new apartment, in his opinion, was an extreme way to avoid him.
Your bitch of a mother, who smoked more than a chimney and drank more than a fish, refused to give Coriolanus your new number. She also refused to tell him your new address. He literally had to pay off somebody in the HR department of Odair Luxury Cruises to get him your new info. Which turned out to be useless since the doorman at the Luxe apartments was very strict when it came to adhering to the wishes of the residents when it came to who was and wasn't allowed to visit or leave things for them and wouldn't let him pass the door. Even when he flashed a large wad of cash at the man, he still refused to budge.
Ugh, moral people were the boil on Coriolanus' ass.
Coriolanus was tempted to just show up and corner you at work, but he ended up deciding against it. But only because he had political ambitions and didn't want a scene to be caused (one that he feels you would cause) that could be damning to his image.
He was sacrificing so much for his political dreams. Listening to Strabo Plinth and getting engaged to Livia Cardew, to gain more wealth and some political goals. Because if he couldn't become a Senator and, of course, after that the President of Panem then wouldn't his greatest sacrifice- his loss of you, be all for nothing?
One afternoon Coriolanus was neck deep in work, but he found himself staring at a framed picture on his desk. It was a picture of the two of you. One that was taken at the Yule Ball during Senior year at the University. It was his favorite picture of the two of you, which is why he has it framed on his desk.
But before he could get lost in the memory of that night, a knock sounded at his office door. Tearing his gaze off of the picture frame, he looked up to the door and simply said, “Come in.”
“Sir, your fiance's here to see you.” Coriolanus' personal secretary, a middle-aged woman who's hot pink lipstick matched her pixie cut, informed him while walking into the office.
“About what, Marge?” Asked Coriolanus while blinking his eyes- attempting to soothe the pain in them from the hot pink overload he was experiencing.
His corneas couldn't handle looking at his secretary’s hot pink paisley print dress since it made her hair stand out more. He also tried not to stare at his employee too rudely while noticing her fuchsia dyed eyebrows and matching pink mascara- that oddly framed a natural eyelid.
Averting his eyes back to his computer, (*cough* his framed picture of you *cough*) Coriolanus told Marge, “I'm busy; I don't have time to deal with her petty antics today.”
“I know that, Sir. I even told Miss Cardew that you're very busy planning the upcoming games, but she wouldn't hear it. She's demanding that I buzz her in; let her see you.”
“Well, don't.” Coriolanus told his secretary because the last thing he wanted to do was talk to his fiance, Livia Cardew.
Gods, how he hated that woman.
“What do you want me to tell her then, Sir?” Marge asked.
“That I'm in a meeting and can't see her at the moment.”
“Okay, but what kind of meeting?” The secretary asked, knowing full well that the dirty blonde Tasmanian devil of a woman out in the lobby would ream her out if she didn't have any details to give her. Saying in a meeting wouldn't suffice that shrew.
“Tell her I'm networking with somebody about the mass installation of mandatory TVs in the districts.” The cold, callous, platinum blonde man said without skipping a beat.
“I thought you successfully had that meeting yesterday?” The secretary asked in a tone that implied she knew her boss was a cunning piece of shit.
“I did, but she doesn't know that.” Coriolanus smirked.
“No, I suppose she doesn't.” Marge giggled. A giddy look took over the middle aged woman's face as she told her boss, “I saw Miss Halvir last night at Ocean’s Prime. It's a seafood restaurant.”
“What's she doing there? She can't afford it with what she makes working in the marketing department of that District 4 based cruise line.” Coriolanus scoffed. Giving his personal secretary a curious look, he asked, “And what were you doing there? I know you can't afford a place like that either.”
Marge fought hard to keep herself from rolling her fuschia framed eyes at Mr. Snow's offhand remarks about money. What both she and you couldn't afford. With a fake and forced smile, she told the imposing platinum blonde, “I was there because my daughter and her partner just celebrated their one year anniversary; the reason for Miss Halvir being there was that she was out on a date.”
“A DATE?!” Coriolanus asked in a loud roar.
A date. How dare you go out on a date. You're not supposed to be going out on dates. You're supposed to be his.
Despite being separated for nearly a month, you still belong to him. Hell, he took your virginity when you both were green kids at the Academy. As far as he's concerned, he owns your pussy.
“Yes, a date.” The bright pink-haired secretary confirmed before telling her boss, “With Odysseus Odair, the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises.”
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Coriolanus loudly cursed, his icy blue eyes blazing with white hot anger.
You went out on a date to some high priced seafood (Since when did you eat seafood, other than those oysters rockefeller appetizers he orders for you two when he takes you to Avelina's for your birthday?) restaurant with Odair- the biggest manwhore in all of the Capitol! 
What the hell's wrong with you? You accuse him of not loving you, of just wanting you for kinky sexy, but here you are going out on a date with Odysseus Odair. The biggest fuck ‘em and leave ‘em guy in the Capitol. Hell, probably in all of Panem.
Marge was taken aback by her boss's reaction to finding out that you were on a date with Odysseus Odair the previous night. The middle-aged woman's never seen the cold and collective head gamemaker lose control before. And she didn't know how to deal with it.
All she wanted to do was spread some juicy gossip and to maybe tip him off that the Odair heir might be bringing a plus one to his upcoming engagement party; one that he's well acquainted with. Marge certainly wasn't expecting Coriolanus to start flipping his shit.
But what Marge didn't know was that Coriolanus is pea green with envy. That he wants to destroy Odysseus Odair because he's with you.
The woman that he's in love with, even if he won't allow himself to admit his feelings. Because he vowed to never ever fall in love after everything that transpired between him and Lucy Gray that summer he served as a peacekeeper in 12.
But love is something that can't be controlled. And that's something Coriolanus will learn first hand as he does everything in his power to get you back. To win you away from one Odysseus Odair, the bane of his existence.
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fatallyfalling · 5 months
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Secrets & Sugarcubes ~ ♆
“ Sugarcube ? “
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{{ Finnick Odair x Reader }}
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warnings: hurt/comfort, typical Hunger Games violence/trauma, mention/insinuation of forced prostitution, ptsd, soft reassurances, possible slight ooc?? Finnick fears physical touch, end is very fluffy with some slight cuddling, etc.
{{ word count }} 4.0 k
{{ Prompt }} The two of you had a game, a way of trading secrets when the world felt too big and a simple touch felt like a burn on Finnick’s skin. You always made sure to keep a tin of sugarcubes in your kitchen just in case.
{{ a/n }} I swear i know how to write happy things guys i promise akfkakkdka the next one will be tooth rottingly sweet i promise please bear with me >< ! I hope the length of this one makes up for it being a day late as well. This also might seem a bit ooc for Finnick? Not sure - but here is my full headcanon, I'd suggest reading it before this to better understand why Finnick is behaving the way he is as it's explained a bit more in-depth. Reader and Finnick are also rather affectionate with one another but there isn’t an established relationship yet between them. Please enjoy <3
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Tip, Tap, Tip-Tip, Tap
Your door creaked under the coded knock, a beat of silence following before it was repeated on the old wood. Your nose scrunched in a perplexed manner, groggily padding down the stairs in your night clothes to your front door, a glimpse at the mahogany grandfather clock in the entryway tells you it’s well past midnight. Your confusion pooled into a sense of concern as cold fingers gripped the metal door handle and gave a firm tug. You knew the knock and who was behind the door as you started speaking before even meeting his gaze, the scent of almonds and honey tainted by a sickly layer of Capital roses filling your senses.
“What’s going on? It’s late. You should be asle-“
Your sentence was cut short as your gaze met a pair of bleary sea-green eyes. You knew the look too well as a frown settled on your lips, your shoulders sinking with your heart as you took in the male before you. “Oh, Finn..” You mutter as you open the door further to let him inside. He hesitates in the doorway, looking lost, but you give a flickering nod of encouragement, convincing him to cross the threshold.
“Come on, I’ll make some tea..”
Nodding towards the kitchen, he wordlessly treks after you. Finnick’s steel-colored dress shirt was well wrinkled, unbuttoned to his clavicle, and sleeves pushed past his elbows. His face didn’t look much better than his suit. His bronze waves were messy, brows sewn in with a tight jaw, and hunched shoulders added to an unsteady demeanor. You could only assume what had occurred earlier in the night while attending the latest Capital party before the famed “Capital’s Darling” appeared on your doorstep. The growing pit in your stomach churned at the thought, and a muscle fluttered in your jaw as you led the victor deeper into your home.
Settling into what sometimes felt like a nightly routine, you get to work on the tea. You also place a small tin on the counter before Finnick, his gaze dancing between your fingers and the tin as you do so. His hands were trembling.
“I think the sweater you left the other day is upstairs. I can get it if you’d like,” You offer while setting the kettle to simmer on the stove. Finnick shakes his head with a soft, tight-lipped hum. He was distracted, flicking his thumbs against the pads of his index fingers over and over again.
“I thought it might help to change...” You allow while stumbling over an apology. You round the counter in a retreat to hunt down the knit item. But you misjudge the distance. Your shoulder accidentally brushes his in a fleeting move that instantly causes recoil and a sharp inhale on Finnick’s part as if he’d been singed by a flame.
“Please,”
The word was strained in his throat as anguish flooded his tanned features. Your eyes widened at your misstep, immediately backtracking to provide more physical space between you. But your frown only deepens as you stare at one another for a fleeting moment before Finnick all but crumples in on himself, descending to the hardwood floor.
Heartbreak splinters through your chest like a knife, bringing yourself down with him as knees meet the polished wood with a thud. Taking further notice of his trembling, it spread up his arms and across his torso now, fists bunching the fabric of his sleeves. The victor wet his lips as his eyes screwed shut, visibly trying to push back whatever threatened to plague his mind.
“I'm so sorry Finnick. Hey, hey- it’s okay, it’s just me, I'm here. I’m sorry, you’re safe with me. You’re going to be okay,” Apologetic pleas pour out in whispers, your head tilting to see beneath the bronze waves blocking his eyes. “You’re safe here,"
He doesn’t respond, only wetting his lips again with a thick swallow that moves his throat up and down. Your lips press to a thin line as you scan around you for anything that might help break the darkness obscuring his senses. Your own thoughts swim with curses for your mistake before your vision finally connects with the small forgotten tin on the counter. Cautiously you rise to retrieve it, your movements are slow, ensuring your hands remain within view, and keeping a safe distance between Finnick and yourself. Once the cool metal touches your skin you wrap your fingers around it, returning to kneel before the distressed Darling on your floor.
“Hey, do you remember our game ?”
A small ‘click’ chirps out as you open the tin. Dozens of small white sugarcubes sparkle inside, gently shifting to let the tin rest between you two. Finnick’s eyes peek out in a squint, dragging his gaze down to the tin and then back up to fixate on your face. He gives a tiny nod to indicate he’s listening, the trembling doesn’t stop.
“Okay,” you manage a small, warm smile briefly as you dip your head to peer into the tin. Plucking four cubes out, simultaneously sweeping your calves out from under you for a more relaxed sitting position, you gently place two near his knee while keeping the other two in your hand.
“One for yes, two for no,”
Gesturing to show the two options, gaining another nod from the trembling victor. At least his attention is focused on the sugar now. Sometimes it took much longer to bring him back enough just to open his eyes.
This was what Finnick Odair hid behind showboating grins and that “Golden Boy” Capital mask. The poltergeists of sticky, unwanted Capital fingers and lips left dozens of invisible burns engraved on his skin. You’d caught the bronze-haired male regularly picking an invisible piece of lint off his shirt or whichever shiny garment the stylists forced him to wear. Soon enough you managed to decipher the minute gesture as a tell to when the discomfort the tanned male felt on his skin too often was starting to eat away at his thoughts.
Never quite free of the forces from previous nights.
It tore open your heart to see him like this. Thrown to the mutts of the Capital under President Snow’s threat of his loved ones being tortured or worse killed if he didn’t comply, there really was no escape from the taloned clutches of winning the annual Hunger Games.
Nobody escapes The Games, and nobody ever wins.
As much as you desperately wanted to whisk the 65th victor away from his position he wouldn’t let you even if you tried, claiming he couldn’t bear to see you come into harm's way and that he’d rather endure the torture just to keep you safe. The seeping guilt you felt was immeasurable.
“I’ll begin, you just answer with the sugar okay ?”
Another small nod earns a second weak smile tugging at the corners of your mouth to reassure him.
“Are you okay ?”
There’s a pause as Finnick thinks, eyelids squeeze shut again but soon open as a shaky hand gently moves the tiny pieces of sugar forward.
Two cubes, ‘no’
“Are you hurt outside ?”
Two cubes, ‘no’
“Are you hurt inside ?”
Another pause, and then he gently scoots one of the cubes backward.
One cube, ‘yes’
“Can you tell me what hurts inside ?”
Finnick hesitates, his brow twitches with a small crinkle of his nose. You wouldn’t pry if he wasn’t ready, you’re patience was strong and you’d spend all night passing sugar on the floor if it meant he could find peace of mind. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,”
Finnick didn’t have many choices or say in life due to his position in the capital, so you found providing clear options to be rather grounding for the Bronze-haired male. It gave him a sense of stability and control over himself and what was occurring around him. Keeping the questions of your game simple and to the point in turn made his responses quick, a distraction technique you had picked up a while back to combat your own struggles post-games.
Two cubes, ‘no’
“That’s okay,” your small smile strengthens as you give him a tender look, not of pity but empathy. “Can I help?”
One cube, ‘yes’
“Please…”
The repeated word is barely above a whisper. If you hadn’t been hyper-fixated on him you might not have caught the parting of his lips that dripped the morsel of sound. His gaze has moved up from the floor to meet yours, wide sea-green irises soft in a pleading expression. You simply nod, assuring him you’re staying right where you are. The tension in his body visibly releases as the reassurances seem to sink in. Gingerly, he releases his biceps, picking at an invisible speck of dust on his sleeve. He drags a hand through his tousled hair before taking it down his face to rub his eyelids. He inhales a deep, shaky breath. You let him take his time to recuperate. Once his hand returns to his lap and he meets your eyesight you resume the verbal questionnaire.
“Do you want your sweater ?”
One cube, ‘yes’
“Okay, just a second,” you smile warmly, he nods, and you slowly stand, making your way upstairs, finding the ivory knit sweater on your bedroom dresser right where he’d left it. Turning around, you retrace your steps back to the kitchen, making sure to avoid the steps that creak louder than others on your way. “Here you go,”
Placing the sweater down as you return to sit with the Darling, he waits for your hands to leave the fabric before picking up the thick material and tugging it over his head. It takes a minute to adjust the layers and his sitting position so they’re comfortable but when he’s done the steel grey button-up collar peeks out from under the angled neckline of the ivory sweater along with the tails of the neutral fabric sticking out under the bottom hem. The ends of the sleeves are stretched around his fingers to mimic mittens. “Better ?” You offer while he takes a moment to breathe in the familiar scent. The smell of Capital roses is quickly suffocated in his familiar warm almond and honey cologne mixing with your scent clinging to the sweater. A sweet smile softens your cheeks as he allows a small lopsided smile with a nod and a hum, the corners of his mouth twitching up at the comfort.
“Very much so.”
“Good,” you nod, “Do you want the citrus tea you like so much? The one with the cinnamon?” Quirking a brow with a small tilt of your head.
“mhm,”
One cube, ‘yes’
“Very well,” you smile sweetly, rising again to move back into the kitchen. You gently open a cupboard, plucking a viridian mug off the shelf for the Darling along with your usual mug. A delicate clink echos in the otherwise quiet space as you set the ceramics on the counter. Finnick has turned to peek up and watch.
His sea-green eyes were still big and pleading, not really ready to stand but also not wanting to be away from you. With the counter cutting off just below his irises and his bronze hair tossed around and fluffy like that you couldn’t help being reminded of a small puppy. You mouth another reassurance with a wink as your cheeks warm, pulling open a drawer to pick up two small objects. They’re burnished silver spheres of metal, split in half but held by a tiny latch and speckled in countless minuscule holes for the nectar of the teas to slip through.
Reaching for two narrow jars on your counter you slide them towards your workspace and unstick each lid with an odd “pop”. Whisps of warm cinnamon, citrus, cloves, and black tea mix with the scent of herbs and spices more aligned with your tastes. The teas were a luxury gift from Mags on your birthday a year or two ago. You only use them on special occasions or nights like these.
You take a small spoon and gingerly press the correct amount of leaves in each steeper, adding a few extra to Finnick’s as he preferred a more prominent flavor. Afterward, you lower the metal orbs into their respective mug and quietly clean your workspace. Once the items are back in place you turn and just about jump out of your skin with a yelp of surprise as the tea kettle’s shrill whistle sings loud and clear.
Quickly you fumble for a cloth on a hook beside the wide farmhouse sink. Wrapping it around the heated handle of the kettle you remove it from the flames and onto an unused burner before shutting off the stove. Your heart pounds as adrenaline courses through your veins like lightning. A curse dances off your tongue but your embarrassment is short-lived as a coy chuckle fills your ears, wrapping around your senses like a soft blanket. A relieving warmth weaves its way through your ribs and melts the icy heartache as you hear Finnick laugh again. Turning towards the sound you spot the bronze-haired male now standing at the counter, his forearms leaning on the cool stone. His hands are barely trembling now although his eyes seem far away but his demeanor has seemed to regain its footing, a flickering of his naturally charismatic aura passes through his pointed-to-white teeth in the form of a lopsided smile. Color has started to ebb its way back into his tanned cheeks. That warmth in your ribcage spreads up your neck but you try to shove it back down. The components of your game; all four sugarcubes and the tin are sitting beside his elbow on the counter. You cross your arms over your chest loosely, narrowing your eyes at him in a playful manner.
“It’s not funny,”
“You’re right it’s hilarious,” Finnick drawls, his tone cocky.
An exasperated huff puffs out your chest followed by a sarcastic roll of our eyes. “There’s the Finnick Odair I know and Love,” You sigh, mischief flickers in those sea-green eyes. Carefully bringing the kettle over after it has a moment to cool you pour the boiling water as evenly as you can before returning it to the stove. A comforting quiet falls over the two of you while watching the liquid within the mugs change color. Eventually, your gaze shifts to watching Finnick slowly build a tiny pyramid out of the sugarcubes. The pristine wall of white crystals stands for all but ten seconds (not even) before the victor’s gentle tap sends it crumbling.
The joy from moments ago dissipates into something melancholic.
“Are you okay…?” You ask again, a crease forming between your brows as you search his sea-green eyes for any signs. Finnick gives you another tight-lipped hum, his smile has slipped away and you notice the set in his jaw returns. His gaze shifts from his folded hands to the sugar close by and hesitantly plucks up two of the four pieces.
Two cubes, ‘no’
“Still inside…?”
One cube, ‘yes’
“Still no touching?” Your voice is tender in a reassuring manner.
Two cubes, ‘yes’
Finnick understands that he’s safe. You’ll respect any boundary he chooses. You’re one of his few ‘safe’ individuals that he allows to fully trust besides Johanna, Mags, and Annie. Unfortunately, Annie was always rather emotionally distraught, meaning Finnick couldn’t be around her for long periods due to her tendency to claw at people during her episodes. It broke his heart to see the fire-haired victor he mentored through an awful arena be left so broken and afraid with limited ability to help her. But you did your best to pick up the slack in her care.
You were all damaged people just trying to survive the best you could with the hand you’d been dealt. No matter the cruelty of the dealer.
While caught up in your thoughts, the tea finished steeping. Gently, you slide the viridian mug of citrusy spices towards Finnick, who allows a small thanks and his “compliments to the chef” while plucking two sugarcubes from his fallen stack and dropping them into the burnt orange liquid.
“My pleasure,” you hum, fixing your tea how you like it and stirring the small steeper around the mug before lifting it from the drink and setting it off to the side. Finnick’s steeper soon follows. You��ll clean the sticky residue later.
Hot ceramic warms your fingertips as they curl around the mug, lifting it to your lips and parting them to give a gentle blow. Ripples of tea bounce around the rim, causing the curls of steam to dance around your cheeks. You inhale the Herbs deeply, and a calm feeling washes over your shoulders. The first sip immediately warms your insides as it goes down, observing the same reaction on Finnick as he takes a long swig of the tea followed by a hum of pleasure.
“Don’t burn your tongue it's still hot,” you murmur into your drink, the emitted sound coming out a bit warped. A ghost of a smile crosses the Darling’s face at your words, though he doesn’t reply, preferring another sip of the luxurious tea.
You already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of his dislike for the stinging on his tongue tomorrow from the burn.
You wish to reach out to him, brush your knuckles against his, or cup his stupidly handsome face in your hands, holding him close till all is better, but you can’t. You won’t. His safety and comfort is your priority right now, and you’ll always give him space when asked. You knew all too well what violation of space felt like.
“Are you feeling any better?”
You question the Darling while searching those sea-green eyes for any signs of pain.
Finnick offers a slight nod, casting a glance in your direction while adjusting the sugar.
One cube, ‘yes’
You nod in understanding. Even though the ache inside his chest still hurt you at least managed to help him start to move past it. The two of you stay at the counter for a long while. Secrets pass back and forth via sugarcube and Finnick has another cup of tea. You move in quiet tandem with one another as he preps the tea and you clean up your steeper and mug in the sink. Softly you hum a small rhyming tune from your childhood as you scrub along the inside of your mug, there’s a sense of domesticity in the air and you can’t help feeling more at ease.
Once everything is clean and put away except the sugarcubes you find yourself on your living room sofa, there’s a space between where your knees are tucked up against you and where Finnick sits. The tin of white crystals sits in that space, the Darling victor plucking up cubes every once in a while to suck on. He could eat all of them and you wouldn’t have minded.
The room is dimly lit, just the light from a lantern on the unused desk beside the fireplace. A soft glow is painted across Finnick’s features that makes his eyes sparkle and spread warmth up your cheeks, the tips of your ears surely going red. You try to suffocate the warmth as it threatens to bubble up past your grasp.
As time passes Finnick eventually speaks of what happened. You listen with full attention and offer much sympathy and reassurance once he’s finished. You thank the charming male for allowing himself to be open with you and he admits, “It’s easy to be an open book when it’s you,” and those sea-green irises seem to light up even more. That warmth twists your insides as your stomach does what feels like a backflip. “Thank you…for letting me in tonight,” he murmurs with that perfect smile, the outer corners of his eyes crinkle, and dimples press into his cheeks. The smile you return is equally as wide and sweet.
“Always. I’ll always be here Finn, and you’re welcome to stay here if you want tonight. There’s plenty of space,” You breathe through a slight laugh. The big house you were gifted in Victor’s Village was far too big to have just yourself anyway and this wouldn’t be the first time the Darling spent the night.
With a nod and a pat to the space between you, you nod towards the stairs before moving to snuff out the lantern. Finnick follows, closing the sugarcube tin and placing it on the coffee table. Quietly you two head upstairs, small giggles peppering the air as the stairs creak.
When you enter your bedroom you rummage in a drawer for a pair of sweats you had ‘borrowed’ from the Darling a while ago when it had been your turn to appear at his doorstep with tears in your eyes. “Here,” you speak gently while holding them out. A cheshire smirk creeps over Finnick’s face as he takes the pants.
“So that’s where these went~”
You shush him with a sarcastic wave of your hand, letting him go into the bathroom to change while you move to sit cross-legged on the plush mattress. You preferred sleeping with many soft blankets and pillows like your own nest. It helped you feel safe when alone - though most would end up kicked off or stolen by the furnace of a man you often shared the bed with. Your revenge usually came in the morning as your icy fingers assaulted the warmth of his lower back with a fit of laughter.
You smile tenderly at the thought as Finnick reappears.
“What?” He asks.
That coy smirk is still plastered on his lips as he comes over to sit beside you. “Hm? Oh - nothing. Lay down, I’m tired." You offer with a hum. He nods before joining you under the covers. You face one another, looking into each other's eyes. Slowly, you feel his hand creep over to yours and interlace your pinkie fingers.
“Is this okay?” Those heart-melting puppy dog eyes return. You can’t help the sweet smile on your face and the warmth on your cheeks.
“Always.”
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@justtrying2getby
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kald-dal-art · 3 months
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Second compilation post of my latest victor art. These are a lot fun to draw and think out so appreciate all the feedback I have gotten for this series. We'll see if I end up making all 75 Victors or not ksdjhfa
Part 1 / Ko-Fi
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Snow gives his lover a rose and then kills her, fast forward years later, he gives Katniss roses to tell her he’s going to kill her lover. Suzanne is a genius.
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kitscutie · 5 months
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snow and roses: part III (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
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pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: part three is finally hereee! sorry it took so long i've been dealing with some shit and doing a lot of work as life's just gotten very busy but don't worry - nothing will be left undone and trust me when i say i already have the ending for this series planned out :)
im sorry to say guys but i will have to close my taglist as the size has began to affect my posts and tumblr keeps glitching out, sorry!
word count:2k
find parts one and two in my masterlist!
After the incident the previous day between Brandy and Arachne as well as the suggestions from Coriolanus taken on board, the mentors had been allowed one hour with their tributes to discuss tactics.
It was good yet bad all at once. You wanted to give Wovey advice, a fighting chance but yet you knew no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much help you gave her, she stood no chance compared to people like Reaper and even Lucy Gray.
She was small and innocent, young.
"In spite of yesterdays - tragic events, our president has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror, to which I and Doctor Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon - with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a specialised television presentation of each tribute to our audience to, well get to know them. You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin." Dean Casca Highbottom spoke into the echoey room, so large it was almost comical.
All of the tributes had been chained to the tables like animals and it made you sick to your stomach. You were aware they may harm you but at the same time such treatment would drive anyone to violence, it wasn't simply because they were District.
"Hi Y/N." Wovey smiled, so innocent. So naive.
"Wovey. I was thinking about how you might approach the games and I figured what might be best is to hide. You're small, an advantage that the other tributes don't have. I'm sure we can find some spaces this afternoon that might prove useful?" You suggested, not wishing to make this conversation more painful and personal than it had to be.
"Sure." She murmured, gaze positioned on the chains around her wrists.
"And if you wait until it's dark and everyone is sleeping you could go to the middle - collect whatever weapons they have left, just in case but otherwise I recommend waiting it out. If they can't find you they can't kill you." The sentence left a bitter taste in your mouth, you had never pictured yourself recommending a child to wait her death out in your life. The Capitol Academy was sold to you with visions of wealth and power, and now you has gone from student to mentor.
"I don't want to kill anyone." She frowned. She didn't even care that she could die, only fearing harming others. You felt your heart ache and yet, you could do nothing. No words would be good enough to reassure her, no actions would be able to save her. For once, you were useless.
"Wovey-" You began your sympathetic speech though Casca cut you off.
"Snow, Y/N. Let's go." He said as peacekeepers arrived to escort you to Doctor Gaul.
You rose without another word to Wovey, aware nothing you could say would be of any help at this time.
You knew it was about Coryo's proposal which you had not helped in and yet you weren't too upset about it. You didn't need the Plinth Prize nor did you need Doctor Gauls' approval and so you set out to let her know of your lack of involvement in this task.
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"How is your tribute?" Coriolanus asked after minutes of silence.
"Her name is Wovey and she's fine. A little frightened but aren't we all?" You said, you were hesitant to tell him too much of Wovey's weaknesses and you didn't know why. This was Coriolanus. Your best friend of over ten years and your boyfriend of a few months and yet, you had a feeling whatever you said would be used against you.
"I suppose." He answered. You supposed his tone was meant to come off charmingly but all you felt was unease.
"This proposal. I haven't done it." You let him know, it was the least you could do before facing the psychopath known as Head Gamemaker.
"We have. I handed it in this morning." He answered with a hint of pride. Impressed with himself that he had taken initiative, helped you.
"I thought I made it clear the other day that I wanted no part in this plan to profit off of peoples lives, Coriolanus." You muttered, increasingly angry with his dedication to the Games and what they stood for.
"Well if you want to help Wovey, I suggest you don't tell Doctor Gaul that." He smiled, holding the door to her office open for you in a feign attempt at being a gentlemen.
As you walked into her office you couldn't help but feel disgusted. It was littered with mutants, clearly created to kill, all sat in glass jars on shelf upon shelf. Stacked all the way up to the ceiling.
"Mr Snow, Miss L/N. Come and see my new babies." Gaul said as she appeared at the back of the room. Where she had been hidden, you had no clue.
You did as she said, never one to disobey your superiors, climbing the snake tank alongside her.
"Is there a point to their colour?" You asked curiously. The snakes were surprisingly beautiful, chromatic as they shifted around on top of one another.
"There's a point to everything Miss L/N. Or to nothing at all, which brings me neatly to your proposal. Which one of you actually wrote it." She asked, as if to catch you out but you felt no remorse in admitting it wasn't you.
"Coriolanus, Doctor." You answer, sensing Coriolanus' hesitation in baiting you out.
"Well, how shocking. I expected more of a conflict." She replied, as though she were annoyed by your honesty as she reached into the snake tank, pulling Coriolanus' proposal out. "They're good your suggestions. I'm going to recommend my team implement as many as possible for tomorrow. Now run along you have an arena to promote, and Miss L/N I must say - I am most disappointed by your lack of involvement in these brilliant ideas."
"Well thank you, Doctor Gaul for your offer but, I thought Mr Snow had it safely under his control." You smiled politely before you both left to 'promote' but more so survey the new arena. "Wait." You said stopping Coriolanus before you got into the truck. "I don't know what has become of you Coriolanus Snow, but I want the little boy who fought to provide for his family while also caring for others back. You are turning into one of them, and I'm not going to be there to watch the world burn beneath your feet." You spat, leaving him to think as you sat in silence for the rest of the journey.
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It seemed Coriolanus felt spiteful towards your words as he too ignored you up until this very moment as you walked into the arena.
You smiled reassuringly down at Wovey who looked just so scared. You were only three years older than her and yet you felt a motherly protection towards her, one you couldn't shake off.
Infront of you was Coryo and Lucy Gray. At first you pitied the girl, coming from twelve must be hard as they were food deprived and worked to the bone and yet now, as she stood holding your boyfriends hand in her beautiful rainbow dress, you loathed everything about her.
Your eyes rolled as far back as they physically could, your disgust clear to anyone looking but only one person was. Sejanus. He looked at you with pity and for once, you appreciated it. You decided he must know about you and Coriolanus and seeing as nobody else did they all whispered about him and Lucy Gray, how sweet they seemed.
You walked around alone before he appeared at your side.
"You deserve better, Y/N." Sejanus said, eyes never meeting your own as you continued to survey the arena, never even noticing his eyes stuck on his watch.
"Debatable." You chuckled, feeling a sense of self responsibility for getting with a man as dangerous as Coriolanus Snow in the first place.
"I wouldn't worry. If there's anything I've learnt about Coryo it's that he likes shiny things, new things - and she's definitely a spectacle." he chuckled to himself, it was safe to say Lucy Gray's ability to impress a crowd hadn't been missed by anyone.
"He'll grow tired eventually. I was his precious rose once." You sighed as the reality of the situation finally settled in.
You soaked in the silence for a few moments before you realised Sejanus' lack of response, turning in annoyance to see his eyes following the hand of his watch clock closely as he mouthed a countdown of the minutes.
"What are you-" You began.
"We've got to go." He said, grabbing your arm and beginning to walk towards the exit cautiously, not catching the attention of any guards.
"What do you mean? Sejanus?" You asked as he would not slow, not for anything. You looked around, seeing everyone else still stood stationary as they calmly conversed.
"Just follow me, Y/N." He said, still attempting to stay calm but you noticed his wide eyes.
You walked in silence, your heartbeat getting louder in your ear with each step until you hearing went completely silent, vision going black as both you and Sejanus were thrown to the floor in a cloud of smoke.
It took a few moments for you to be brought back to reality as you sat up, dazed hearing the yells of people around you. Once again before you could even figure out what was happening Sejanus' grabbed you, pulling you to your feet as you ran out of the door. 'Enjoy the show' now sounding muffled.
"What about Coryo?" You cried out in desperation, no matter what he put you through he was your first love and you had always pictured him to be your last.
"If we go back now, Y/N, we'll die." Sejanus replied as he continued dragging you until you reached the fresh air outside. Your charred lungs welcoming it.
As you looked back through the doorway you saw nothing, no one. Simply black smoke. You felt guilty and yet still - deep down - your heart yearned for the death of Lucy Gray.
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It had been five hours now, sat around Coriolanus' bed alongside Sejanus and Tigris.
He hadn't so much as twitched and it had your heart racing with panic, if he died, you knew a part of you died with him.
Tigris comforted you as best she could in her own worry, noting how his chest continued to move up and down steadily and that the doctor only mentioned an injured arm, not that he was at risk of death.
The appearance of bright blue eyes caught everyone's attention as you rushed to be by his bed.
"Coryo." You said, a large smile on your face. You watched as his eyes flickered around in confusion, landing on you for a few moments. You don't know what you expected, a look of love? What you most definitely didn't expect was one of disgust.
"Lucy Gray, is she-" He stated, looking to Tigris for an answer.
"She's alive." Tigris responded through gritted teeth as she looked to you with sympathetic eyes. Her reply was lost to you as the ringing in your ears after the explosion returned. Your heart beating loud in your chest. You placed a hand over it, feeling it pound against your palm.
Your eyes glazed over as you walked away into a secluded corner, waving Sejanus off as he attempted to follow you.
It felt now more than ever so official, so real without a doubt. You had lost Coriolanus Snow. He no longer loved you, cared for you or even worried for you.
The cage that was his heart had opened wide, setting you free and instead capturing something new and desirable. A songbird.
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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months
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the lakes (1) // finnick odair x f. reader
summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.
next chapter
prequel
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warnings: ANGST, allusions to death/mental problems as a result of the games/trafficking, arguments, finnick had a savior complex, but reader also low-key has one, unedited, maybe ooc!finnick it's how I interpret him but maybe you don't, mentions of past breakups, may be more I didn't catch, no use of y/n, terms of endearment like my love, angel, sweet boy
1.6k words
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Snuggled up to his side on the couch is where you felt safest, even with the pit in your stomach as you waited for whatever cruel twist Snow would announce for the Third Quarter Quell. You could tell Finnick had been anxious too, even if he would never want to verbalize it. He'd spent the day finding an activity to keep his mind busy at every second, little home renovations he'd never spoken of before, catching more fish then you could possibly eat, bossing you around as he did each thing all of which was so him, but there wasn't a moment of peace. He didn't stop to just hold you or stare out at the waters, there was no time when he knew that this year being a mentor would be much more difficult.
You knew that too, you'd been doing it for less time then he had, but it was eating you up inside. Even though the day was nearly barren of sweet nothings or the usual honey of his voice, him holding you as you stared at the screen made all the difference. But then your world stopped.
“As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this Third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each District.” Snow’s voice was exactly that, cold and icy. You felt nauseous and dizzy the moment the words left his cocky, freezing lips. Then the warmth from Finnick was gone, leaving you just as frozen.
“Finnick-" You began almost robotically as he stood, exiting the room. He said something incoherently and you knew better than to follow him. Both of you dealt with things differently. It was a thought true and tested that he would pull away to handle and you would cling closer. You hoped that being with him for so long would remind him of the happy medium.
Feeling consumed by sadness, anger, and a tinge of selfishness for even wanting Finnick’s comfort when he had so much to process you rose from your position on the couch as you mechanically walked towards the bedroom. Hearing the front door slam shut you knew Finnick was long gone, off to seek the refuge of the oceans currents. The warmth of a singular tear straying from your eyelids brought a stark contrast to how you felt.
They say everyone deals with grief differently, so maybe that explained why you’d just continued with your might as normal. Nearly burning your skin off with the warmth of the shower, stiffly moving through your nightly skincare routine, doing the dishes Finnick usually insisted upon working on, and finally when you'd sat down at your vanity for the final steps of your bedtime routine Finnick had reappeared. 
“You can't go back." Was all he said and you stared at him somberly in the mirror.
“That's not your decision to make." It wasn't angry or malicious, it was just a sad truth. There was no control over any of it and quietly you cursed Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire for ever daring to defy the Capitol's rules. Even if you knew it wasn't her fault that Snow was harsh and cruel, maybe if she'd played safely like everyone else had you and Finnick could be still curled up on the couch chatting mindlessly.
“It can be, I can ask people to volunteer, you need to be safe.” He was like a flighty bird as he knelt down besides where you sat. You could tell he'd been crying by the bloodshot look of his eyes.
"My life isn't more valuable then anyone else's Finnick. That's not fair and you know it.”
"I don't care."
“Mags is too old, she deserves to be in peace when she goes, Annie wouldn't be able to handle that, and Ondine would say no and I wouldn't blame her.”
"You can't volunteer. You have to promise me that, I need you to promise me that.” His eyes were so desperate, so pleading and his hands clung to your knees. You felt your eyes brimming with tears as you shook your head.
"You know I can't do that.” It was true you wouldn't put poor, unstable Annie through that, Mags wouldn't survive, and Ondine probably could, but you'd be eaten by guilt if you let her. You doubted that you could be the victor once again, but it would be better than making any of them face it. 
Finnick hit the top of your table as he stood, “Goddammit, don't be stubborn about this, angel. I need you to stay here, you can't go back!" He was trying to hold back his own storm of tears which he was gulping down.
“Finnick, could you promise me the same thing? Could you swear to me that you wouldn't volunteer either?" He was silent and simply stared back at you. So you nodded and rose to your feet as well.
“That's different and you know it! There's been whispers amongst different Victors about rebellion and with this happening there has to be more imminent plans. I can be on top of them, angel, I can help end this." Your sweet, sweet boy who so vehemently needed to rid the world of the system that had hurt him so badly and so many others like him before it could do more damage.
“If you do that, if any of that happens. I need to be with you, Finnick. We can do that together, you don't get to just cut me out because you want to protect me. We're a team!” You made sure to keep your voice even, although all the built up emotions made you want to yell it all, to cry it out, and scream so gutturally that everyone would know what was happening.
"That's not fair." He repeated back at you, blinking away his oncoming tears. “I need you to be safe, to know you're gonna be okay. If I'm thinking about the future of the Rebellion then I can't be worrying about keeping you alive too.” His voice was harsher and louder, then suddenly you couldn't stop yourself from raising your voice to the same tone as his.
"I've won these before, Finnick, I'm not helpless! You have left me stranded before and I have dealt with it, and I won. I'm not some damsel you need to save.” The rational side of you knew that you were being unreasonable, but so was he. You did need him, you needed him so desperately that thinking of him is what had kept you fighting the first time around. You loved the fact that he didn't make you pretend to be all the things you were spouting out, you didn't have to act strong when you weren't feeling it and he would take care of you. But now, when it would be life or death, you didn't need that used against you.
"That's not what I meant and you know it. I know you can take care of yourself, but that won't stop the fear of you getting hurt from eating me up inside.” Suddenly his forehead was pressed to you're, it was so intimate and so soothing it was already balancing you out. You forced your voice back to the soft tone it had once held.
"Finnick if I'm here and the Rebellion you're planning happens, they'll come for me. Snow will make sure that I'm not safe, he could have me killed for being with Finnick the rebel. I would be safer with you then in the palms of the Capitol.” His hands caressed your face with heat that relaxed your tense muscles simply on impact. 
“I just want to come home to you." His muscular arms were wrapped around you as he whispered his confession and let himself fully break down with you. Sobbing down your back and suddenly you didn't feel your own tears. All of you just wanted to help him, to absorb with warmth and give it back to his tortured soul. Your sweet boy.
“I know." You said it so lightly it could have been lost in the breeze, but Finnick was tucked into you so tightly that he heard. “Can we just go to bed, please? I just want to be with you."
Finnick reluctantly pulled himself away from you only because he knew he could envelop you in the further safety of your blankets. “Of course, my love." He muttered as he pressed his salty lips to your forehead. The dilemma would be left here for now, but he would convince you. His brain and heart were still scrambling for any loophole to keep you out of the arena, as distanced from the rebel plans as possible, and as protected as need be from any and all who could pose harm. 
Even if you were strong, charming, and smart, the Capitol's Princess. He knew you were all he needed, you accepted him and his flaws so fully, so blatantly shared each crevice of your soul with him that none of that mattered because it was the domestic bliss that you were really built for, that you deserved. The life with the house on the beach, where kids could run around and you would garden that he would fight to give you, but couldn't allow any chance that could prevent you from getting there.
But it broke you knowing that he wanted to protect you so bad he didn't open up, that there was a lack of trust in what he said simply in omission. You wanted to protect him just as badly in a way he couldn't understand, you wanted to be consumed by his every moment. To be two halves of one whole in any way you could and you feared your own instability would show if he was gone. You'd hidden it so well when he was there to calm you, but as you held each other so tightly both of your thoughts were silly consumed with the threats of what was to come. 
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
more of this series to come because I have a lot of thoughts even though this part was shorter. thank you for reading and so many of you for the support! if you enjoyed them let me know by liking, reblogging, commenting, or any type of feedback. feel free to fill my asks with thoughts lmao because it's consuming my thoughts. love you guys 💋
taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore
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toothfa-1-ry · 5 months
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METAMORPHOSIS -finnick odair
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The capital has a way of messing up with your head. Finnick saw it happen to him, he saw it happen to Peeta and worst of all, he had to see it happen to you too
GENRE: Angst
PAIRING: Finnick Odair x gn reader,
WARNING: PTSD, mental illness and abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm on Finnick's part, reader want through a lot of psychological abuse and physical abuse, Finnick has panic attacks basically very hunger games coated abuses
A/N: back in for a hot minute with the new release of a the ballad of songbirds and snakes! I seem to be pulled back into the hunger games lol however since it's been a pretty long time since I've read or watch the movies this fic is probably not going to be accurate at all! Also I have no idea how to end this fic so I just did it in a hurry. I don't rlly like how it came out but oh well!
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You weren't supposed to get taken away
You weren't supposed to fall back down behind, you weren't supposed to be left behind while Finnick was distracted talking to Katniss.
Finnick wasn't supposed to leave you behind, he was supposed to stay by your side just like he promised. He wasn't supposed to let you be taken away and yet your there stuck in the capitol while he lies with wounds all over his body in the 13 district
It should have been him, he thinks, that maybe if he had switch places with you in that moment, that he was right next to you instead of ahead of you, that he would pulled you towards him, maybe..maybe you would be there next to him.
Maybe you would be lieing next to him, perhaps is bruises and wounds as bad as his but atleast the both of you would be safe in each others arms.
Finnick knows that he should get out of his room. The plain cold room with grey walls seem to surround him on all four sides and yet his grief seems to swallow him as a whole
The ringing sound in his ears continue relentlessly and the tremble in his hands refuse to go. He'd find himself picking his scabbed scars and almost healed wounds and waking up in the dead of night screaming. He finds himself scarring his once golden skin which now seemed rusted with red and all of his old wounds once which was kissed by you being reopened at the dead of night.
He screamed screamed for you, every night and even while he was awake he seemed to be mumbling your name over and over again under his breath. As if believing that if he did so that maybe you'd appear infront of him and tell him it's just a bad dream
Sometimes he'd be forced out of his room, sometimes it's by Haymitch or some other person. He couldn't care less, however he was also a beacon of hope for the people maybe not flaming as bright as Katniss the girl on fire but rather hope like the beach waves hitting the shore
But you were different. You were a different kind of hope, not burning bright and flaming with fumes like Katniss or calm and majestic in all its glory like Finnick but you were like moon.
Hope like the moon in the dark night sky guiding travelers for the past million centuries, sailors, prophets and even kings and helping them find way back to their homes, to their solace. You were the light in the dark, a elegant beam of radiance showing way even to a poor man.
You were Finnick's light. The only thing that helped him see, the only time he felt truly like himself not like the capitols charming prince, or the victor from the 4th district but rather just like plain Finnick. The boy who had golden tan skin, hair dry with salty sea water, the boy who smelled like the sea ans the boy he once was before the capitol got a hold of him.
Like the moon's reflection on the ocean bed in the calm, you were a beam of radiance to him that helped him sleep in night, safe and sound..and loved.
He misses you more than he remembered you. And it scared Finnick.
Being forced out was now a usual thing for Finnick. Being forced to sit in a cafeteria with a plate of food which would go cold and remain uneaten.
He usually stayed alone still away from the others which was unlike him but his mind would be plagued with the last look you gave him, his ears repeating your mortifying scream
Sometimes he'd talk to Katniss. She understood him, after all her Peeta was taken away to just you were taken away. Both Finnick and Katniss blamed themselves more than they should have,
He thinks, at first that he is a little envious of Katniss and the way she looks strong. She holds herself in a way he doesn't. He thinks, how does she do it? How does Katniss remain like a fire burning torch when Peeta the person she adores the most is gone like how you were
But then he hears a familiar voice, he sees a all too familiar face across the tv screen and he is immediately filled with desperation and dread. He looks at Peeta's stoic and unmoving face on the tv screen and he feels the tremble beginning in his hands again.
The capitol couldn't have..could they? They wouldn't have- they couldn't have done it. They didn't kill Peeta but..they seemed to have done something even worser
Finnick's thoughts are left troubled when it was disturbed a loud sound of a metallic plate dropping and a cry of despair
He sees Katniss, her tears and the way her hands fly towards her mouth and try to cover her cry.
Thats when he notices the bags under her eyes and the cuts on her hand. He notices the way her heart sank just like his did and he notices the way Katniss called out Peeta's name. He remembers the way she held him in the games and the way she begged him to live
He thinks, maybe they aren't so different at all.
"he's alive..he's alive" Katniss whispers under her breath and Finnick's holds his, his eyes scan the tv screen scanning for your face whi- and he sees it.
Your face in the background, your hair combed and slicked backed tightly into a bun. Your faced filled with white powdery makeup making you look almost as if you were a corpse. Your eyes seemed scarily full and your lips dry.
But you weren't dead, but you didn't really seem alive either.
The fact that you were alive had a unsettling feeling in Finnick but right now he couldn't care, you were alive and breathing
"y/n" Finnick breaths out as he runs towards the screen with no hesitation. His mind is no longer on Katniss or Peeta or the capitol but at you and your face.
His trembling fingers slowly trace your face as he cries your name out repeatedly, he isn't listening to what Peeta is saying or all the commotion in the back
Your alive.
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"they're back! Peeta, Johanna and y/n they- they're back"
Finnick runs faster than he has ever done in his entire life.
Faster than he did in the hunger games or faster than he did from the capitol people after they were done with their business with him in their bedrooms.
He throws down whatever he was holding in his hands, leaves whatever thought was occupying his head and runs faster than he ever did
He doesn't care about whether he hit someone or if he was making too much noise. He cried your name out as he ran calling you, searching for you before opening the door with a bang, his eyes red with tears and trembling body.
He sees you in a wheelchair lying lifelessly in the the chair which held your body.
He doesn't notice the way everyone else in the room looks at him, Haymitch, the doctors or nurses or even Johanna who was sitting in a similar wheelchair a few metres away from you. They way they all immediately stood up straight and their body tense, the way their faces were looking at him with pity
Finnick feels as if though he had stopped breathing, every single bone in his body moves automatically. The tears stream across his golden skin as his hands itch to touch you
All he needs is you. All he needs is your touch, your warmth
He runs towards you unaware of the way you tensed up when you saw him, he shouts your name as his hands stretch out to finally hold you, he begs for forgiveness again and again but finds you shaking instead
"Finnick don't go near her- wait Finnick don't" Beetee's immediate warning fails when you start thrashing against Finnick's touch
"y/n?- y/n my love? What's wrong?" Finnick panics as he tries to calm you down as you shout and scream
Just a few seconds ago you were silent and unmoving refusing to speak but here you were with Finnick, screaming and crying trying to get away from him like he was a monster
"my love please-" Finnick begs as his hands touches your face, the panic in his voice and the tears unhidden from anyone. The despair and regret dripping from his words and unhelpful touches which seem to drive you insane even more
"away! Get away from me! I- get away! away!" You try to push Finnick away but your not that strong. You seem to be repeating the same things again and again but you shake your head and scream even louder than before
"Finnick let go of her- don't Finnick!" Finnick's hears the others shouting at him but he can't let you go, not when you don't even recognise him
"it's me- it's me y/n. It's Finnick your sweetheart" his voice cracks at the nickname you gave him, his eyes search for a second of recognition or even love but your eyes are filled with terror and fear
"y/n it's me! I'm here now! I'm sorry I'm never going to let you go- please y/n..it's me" he begs and pleads you but you don't stop resisting against him even going lengths of hitting him with your hands helplessly
"Finnick let go!" Finnick hears Haymitch shout as he pulls him away from you "she isn't the same y/n you know- the capitol played with her mind"
Finnick feels his entire world go cold, his skin gone numb and his brain feels all muddy. There's a dark deep sinking feeling in his gut as he watches you look at him in complete fear, crawling away from him and into the corner of the room hugging yourself
Finnick takes a few steps towards you but is fiercely pushed away by a agitated Johanna "get the fuck away from her Finnick!"
Johanna glares at Finnick alongside with everyone in the room before she runs to the corner you were sobbing in and cradles you in her arms muttering "don't touch us, don't touch us" again and again.
"what- what do you mean? What's going on?" He turns and looks at the faces in the roomwhich was responded with a nervous glance. Finnick feels his blood boil and his anger consume him
"I said what do you mean" he shouts "what the hell happened" his eyebrows furrowed as he watches Betee struggled to form sentences
"we- we don't know exactly what happened" Betee says as he motions towards you and Johanna who was rocking you in her arms, shooting everyone in the room dirty looks still repeating the same words
"but-"
"but what? what...what happened to my y/n why.. why does she seem afraid of me? Why is she scared-" His voice cracks before he began to sob uncontrollably "why?"
The room goes silent and all that could be heard was Finnick's sobs and yours alongside with Johanna's muttering.
Haymitch walks slowly to Finnick and holds him in the shoulder "I think..you should sit down somewhere while we talk about this" he says grimly as he turns around and gives looks at the rest of the people in the room to give them some space
Finnick's breathing is shallow as he listens to Betee. The more he listens the more he wishes that he were dead, that it was all fake. He wishes even more that it was him who was taken into the capitol and regret and anger fills him up
"the capitol obviously wasn't going to let it slide, I mean y/n she- she was the capital's sweetheart. She was one of their favourite victor and seeing her being a part of the uprising? Snow would have never let her or any of them for the fact go unscarred but, we never expected this much"
Betee continues in a whisper, he stops every 2 minutes and looks at Finnick to say something but Finnick would always remain silent and unmoving.
"Johanna she- she's developed this insane fear of water- she was drowned multiple times by the capital and Peeta he..he was also brainwashed. He has developed this insane hatred for Katniss."
"and y/n?" Finnick finally broke his silence "what did they do to her?" You could hear the desperation leaking from his voice, his voice at the verge of breaking
Betee seemed to be hesitant to say, often refusing to make eye contact with Finnick but he sighed and looked straight at him
"y/n was strapped. She was strapped into this machine and they kept on fiddling with her memories. She couldn't differentiate with what was real and what wasnt. They inserted this entire new plot into her head which she now believes some parts of it to be true"
Finnick breathing stopped, a chill ran down his spine as he internally begged that it was not what he was thinking of
Betee looks up to Finnick with sadness and guilt painted in his eyes, he didn't want to break it to Finnick this way. He knew how much it would hurt him
"Finnick" Haymitch says instead, choosing to be the one to break the news to Finnick "y/n, she's scared of you. Just like how Peeta has developed hate for Katniss, y/n has developed fear towards you."
A all too familiar feeling came over Finnick. He was where he was in the beginning. He was nothing but a monster, a killer, a damaged product before you came along and showed him a new path but he had to ruin everything. He had to break you too, he had to ruin you too, it was all his fault
Panic engulfed Finnick as it hit his very core, today was the day he got you back and yet today was also the day he seemed to have forever lost you
"but-" he trembles as he talks "but why- what did they show her? What did I do to her" his breathing becomes fast
"it's not your fault" Haymitch says as Betee nods his head "we're trying to figure that out right now"
"is it only me?" Finnick's blood shot eyes pierce Betee's "am I the only person she's scared of?"
"she's scared of everything and everyone except for Johanna. Johanna was the only one who was there to comfort her but Johanna herself isn't in the right mind right now either" Betee replies
"oh" Finnick's voice is empty and hollow, he doesn't want to ask the question but it seems inevitable "will she ever stop being scared of me?"
Finnick is scared of Betee's answer, his heart hammered agains his chest in panick "do you think..I can get her back?"
Betee purses his lips as he continues "it won't ever be the same Finnick. Y/n.. whatever they implanted in her head has been recognised as real to her now but if we keep on pressing on with the truth maybe" he looks hopefully at Finnick "maybe you could get a piece of her back, not fully but a fragment of her"
"I just..I just want her, I don't care if it's a piece of her or whatever. I just..I want her to be okay"
Betee just nods his head wordlessly as he watches Finnick break down. Right infront of him was probably the strongest person he ever knew, he watched him during his games, watched him become victor and knew everything he went through but he never saw Finnick this broken.
"I'm going to get her back" Finnick says "if that's the last thing I ever do I swear, she's going to be okay"
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ervotica · 5 months
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hey babes, since we both have a raging crush on cato could u do something where a guy is harassing you and he comes to ur rescue 😍 (cliché ik but like he would be so hot doing it, we love a protective man) 
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pairing: cato hadley x fem!reader
warnings: cato is possessive and hot, the district 6 boy is a jerk (idk if this is accurate to canon at all but idc sue me)
hunger games masterlist
You're watching Cato practice throwing spears with Marvel on the first day of training. You observe the way his biceps flex, pushing the veins out of his arms as he lifts the weapon over his shoulder and puts his weight behind the throw- you really do pity the ones who will be on the receiving end of him in the coming weeks.
You glance down, twisting a knife between your fingers, watching enraptured as it glides through your digits and light bounces from the metallic blade, throwing a myriad of whites and blues across the other weapons hung on the walls.
You don't hear the boy sneak up behind you, his broad hands coming to rest on your waist in a place he most definitely should not be touching; your elbow drives back into him instinctually as you spin to face him, and you pin him to the wall by your forearm. It's the boy from District 6 - Jason, you recall. He's seemed to be keeping a low profile until now, until his disdain towards Cato has seemed to reignite in a bout of fury. And, well, he has to take it out on someone.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He hums noncommittally.
"I think they call this making alliances, sweetheart," Jason says, grinning crudely. Your blood is running hot, rushing in your ears as you push against his neck with your arm and bare your teeth.
"You call me sweetheart again and I'll cut your eyes out. I don't care where we are," you spit, stepping back. "Leave me alone."
His hand bunches into the back of your t-shirt as you start to retreat and he yanks you backwards; your back hits the wall with a loud thump and you hiss, kicking out at him as he presses his chest to yours and rakes his eyes over every inch of your body.
"You don't wanna do this," you laugh, a smirk creeping onto your face that you just can't hold back as you let him hold you there and wait.
"Why's that? I don't see anyone else around," he murmurs, his face so close you can feel his hot breath. "Just you and me."
You raise your eyebrows before you're tilting your head and screaming over his shoulder.
"Cato! Cato!"
Cato's head snaps up and he thrusts the spear he was using into Marvel's hands; he's across the training room floor before you can even shriek his name again.
Jason doesn’t have time to as much as step back before Cato is behind him, chest heaving in a barely concealed fury, pale face flushed and ready for another fight. Jason is lifted seemingly out of thin air by only the back of his neck and he starts to thrash as he’s tossed across the hard training room floor.
“Are you stupid?” he seethes. “She told you to leave her alone! You’ve just sealed your fate, you’re the first one I’m coming after when we get to that arena.”
You creep up next to him, leaning coyly against Cato’s shoulder as you stare down at the District 6 boy.
“I told you. You shouldn’t have done that,” you tease. Cato's thick arm comes up and over your shoulders protectively as he holds him to the floor with his boot clad foot.
"Come on," Cato says. "We're leaving."
His grip is like iron around your hand, his knuckles white as the blood drains from them. You can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves - shoulders squared, jaw ticking.
He drags you all the way back to the tribute quarters, slamming the door closed behind the pair of you and spinning on his heel to pace the length of the room.
"Cato, c'mon," you murmur. "He's just an asshole. He can be the first one we kill in there."
"It's more than that," he groans. "Why does he think he can come and talk to you like that? That prick has overstepped more than once."
"I know." You tug him back towards you and cradle the side of his neck; he's hot, and his pulse thrums under your touch. "It doesn't matter anymore, he's a prick and we'll get rid of him."
"Okay," Cato whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against your own. You hum and push out the creases in his forehead where his brow has knit. His eyes soften at the gesture, and you smile in response, scrunching your nose as he rubs his cheek against yours. He grumbles.
"Stop being so pretty, I'm trying to focus here."
You laugh and wrap your arms fully around his shoulders and neck, reaching up on your tiptoes to slot your lips between his. His muscles, coiled tight and tense, start to relax at your touch. He presses into you, deepening the kiss, hungry for you. He's consumed by it, by the possessiveness he feels over you, by the rage that Jason laid a hand on you at all. You lose yourself in it: in his smell and his touch and how he feels against you enveloping your senses. Reluctantly, you pull away and grin at him, knuckles brushing his sharp cheekbone.
"C'mon, we gotta start making a plan for the games. I'll put Jason first on the list."
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runningfrom2am · 2 months
Text
red blazer (c.s.)
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pairing: coryo x fem!reader
wc: 2k
tags/warnings: reader is arachne's "little sister" (they're like, a year apart lol but she GIVES little sister), sexual content if you actually squint, arachne is mean but in a big sister way, otherwise it's just cute and kinda funny. idk. enjoy!
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav / coriolanus snow masterlist
a/n: omg second ever coryo oneshot from me. LISTEN- i know i should do more of these BUT i loveee doing series for him bc his personality is SO fun to work with. anyway lol, check out my coryo series'.
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"Maybe if you spent less time annoying me and my friends you would make some of your own." Arachne hums, sensing you standing in the doorway to the dining room where she and her friends were apparently working on some kind of assignment.
"I didn't even say anything!" You whine. "I was literally just coming to say hi."
"Well, don't. No one wants to say hi to you."
You pout, staring at her and crossing your arms. "Can I sit? Just for a few minutes? I won't even say anything. I won't bother you, I promise." There was an extremely tempting empty seat across from your sister and next to her friend Coriolanus that you'd been eying since you walked in.
He was just so pretty, so well composed, so tall, you were in love. Your crush on him had been lifelong, and with him only thirteen months older than you, it wasn't at all weird or totally unattainable. That's what you'd been telling yourself, anyway.
Arachne rolls her eyes, slamming her pen down on the table. "I already told you, the fact that you even exist is annoying to me. So, no. Go. Away."
"Arachne, it's fine if she sits for a few minutes." Clemensia cuts in, eager to just be polite but it makes you smile, nodding excitedly.
"Yeah, not everyone is as easily distracted as you are." Your heart flutters in your chest as Coriolanus comes to your defense, and you're already across the room and sliding into the seat next to him.
"You underestimate how annoying my little sister is." Arachne mumbles through gritted teeth, already looking back down at her textbook.
Coriolanus looks over at you and smiles, making the butterflies in your stomach erupt into a panicked frenzy.
"Hi." You whisper, cheeks flushing red.
"Hi." He replies quietly, his tone apologetic.
To Coriolanus Snow, Arachne's little sister was an outlier to her incredibly stuck-up family. She acted out often, was no stranger to commanding the attention of every room she entered, and to him, was the most beautiful girl to ever walk the academy halls.
So every time a group project or paper was assigned, he was forcing himself into the seat next to the oldest Crane daughter and requesting that they work together.
"Maybe at your house? Like usual?"
And it worked, one hundred percent of the time.
"What are you working on?" You whisper, leaning your elbow on the table and looking at the books he had laid out in front of him.
"Nothing fun, I assure you." He chuckles quietly, and you ignore your sister's glare that you could feel burning into your forehead.
"That's boring." You sigh quietly. "What's your favourite class?"
"Law."
"Law?" The way you scrunch up your nose and question his answer makes him smile. "I am sorry for you."
He laughs even though you weren't joking, about to ask what your favourite class was when he's stopped by your sister shouting.
"Mom! Y/N's annoying us, make her go away!"
In a flash, you're shoving the chair back and darting out of the room, disappearing down the long hall of the penthouse.
You were adorable. He knew at that moment that he had to have you.
Being Arachne Crane's "little" sister was a nightmare all on its own. She was annoying, she hated you or at least acted like it, and despite being the baby of the family it felt like every day you were making desperate attempts to claw your way out of her and your brother's collective shadow.
Maybe that's all this was. Did you really like Coriolanus, or did you just like annoying your sister?
The thought crossed your mind only momentarily before Coryo tugged gently at your hair to turn your head so he could detach his lips from yours only to move his kisses and gentle bites to your neck.
Nope, there was no way this had anything to do with your sister.
You let out a soft sigh, holding his shoulders to support yourself as you straddle his lap on the edge of your bed. "Coryo..." You whine, pouting because you know he only has so much time before his absence from the dining room would be truly noticed, and he was dragging this out more than he probably should.
"Tell me what you need, pretty girl." He hums into your skin, his hold on you shifting your hips and tightening over the waistband of your underwear- the only remaining article of clothing on your body.
"Hurry." You mumble, tilting your head down to capture his lips again.
"I told her I was leaving." He tells you between kisses. "We have all the time in the world." You can feel the smile on his lips against your own, and you match it in excitement.
By now, you'd been sneaking around for months. It had been fun, but certainly exhausting.
Worth it. One hundred percent worth it. You think to yourself as he lifts you to turn you over and lay you back on your perfectly made bed, leaning over you and reattaching his lips to your neck.
"How will you leave?" You ask breathlessly as his large hand finds your waist again, gentle but firm in its hold.
"We'll figure it out." He mumbles, clearly very far from concerned about it.
You're almost too caught in the moment to hear the banging on your door that causes you both to freeze, heads snapping in the direction of the sound.
"Y/N! Where's my shirt?! I know you took it!"
Arachne.
"Shit, shit, uh-" You panic as Coryo very quickly jumps off of you, tumbling loudly off the bed and onto the ground getting caught on the edge of your duvet.
"What the hell are you doing? I'm coming in-"
"No!" You shout, panicked as you look around. "Uh- one second, I'm naked!" Not entirely a lie. While Coryo gathers his academy uniform that's scattered across the floor, having left him only in his black boxers, you pull a towel off the back of your door and wrap it around yourself.
You have to hide him. Quickly scanning the room, you have three options: your walk-in closet, under the bed, or in your bathroom.
"Get in the closet." You whisper, quickly shoving him toward the door.
"I don't care, I need my shirt!" Arachne says, the sound of her opening your door masking the sound of your closet door closing.
Your chest is rising and falling quickly as she marches in, immediately looking around. "God, what took you so long? You look like you're having a heart attack." She mutters, digging through the laundry basket that was yet to be taken by the house staff.
"I was about to have a shower." You answer, forcing yourself to not look in the direction of the closet.
"Right." Arachne rolls her eyes, stomping into the bathroom to begin looking there.
"Why the hell are you showering at six pm? We have dinner at the Creed's in an hour." She calls out.
"That's obviously why I'm having a shower." Honestly, you had totally forgotten about dinner.
"Yeah, you probably should. It stinks in here."
You roll her eyes at her comment, but they widen in horror as her warpath begins toward the closet. "No! Wait!" You stop her, clutching the towel to your chest as you step in front of the door to stop her. "Uh- what shirt are you looking for?"
"Which shirt? The white one, with the lace trim collar. Oh my god, do you have more than one?" She asks angrily.
"Oh, that one is in the laundry. They took it yesterday." You lie and she groans, walking back toward the door.
"I hate you! God, you make everything so difficult." She mutters, stopping on her walk back to the door and looking at the few articles of clothing scattered around your bed. You follow her gaze, biting your tongue and internally cursing when you notice Coryo's blazer that was dropped haphazardly on top of the pile. She picks it up, looking it over with a furrowed brow. You watch as she looks over at yours, which is neatly pressed and folded for the morning sitting on your desk chair.
"A men's medium." She says as she reads the tag, pausing before turning back to you slowly, this time, with an off-putting smile on her face. "Who's in the closet?" She whispers, and your face burns more than it already was.
"No one." You answer quickly, possibly too quickly.
"You're lying." She states, and you shake your head quickly. It doesn't go over her head that you look like a deer caught in the headlights. "Then you won't mind if I..." She says, starting off slow before breaking into a run toward the door which you instinctively block with your body, gripping the towel with one hand and holding out the other arm to block her while you fight for the door handle handle.
"I knew it!" She hisses, finally giving up and pointing a finger right at your nose. Quickly, she looked back over her shoulder toward the open door to make sure no one else was around before she spoke again. "Is it Allium?" She asks quietly, for some reason suddenly interested in who you spend your time with, and if it's with that boy in your year who continually gets on your nerves.
You shake your head again, swallowing thickly.
"Tell me who it is."
"No one!" You lie, already knowing the bit was up as she tosses the blazer back to where she found it.
"Ugh, you're no fun." She rolls her eyes, shoving you gently before turning to leave. "Whatever. I don't care. Just don't get pregnant- I know you're stupid and all but Mom will skin you alive."
"Get out!" You snap, walking over and shoving her out the door before slamming it behind her.
You hear her laugh as she walks away, steps receding down the hall back in the direction of her own room.
You let out a tense sigh of relief, waiting a moment to hear her door closed before going over to the closet and opening the door.
Coryo is still laughing to himself as he buttons up his shirt and tucks the back of it into his pants. "Stop!" You exclaim in a whisper, giving him a gentle smack on the shoulder but you can't help but laugh as well. "It's not funny!"
"It's pretty funny." He says lowly, leaning down to kiss you softly.
"It's not that funny." You roll your eyes playfully. "We could get in serious trouble, sneaking around like this! God- it's crazy." You sigh, shaking your head as you step back into your room, suddenly serious.
He follows, sensing your worries as you drop the towel with your back facing him, quickly pulling a t-shirt on to cover up. "We can't- we have to stop." You shake your head, talking mostly to yourself.
"Hey, woah, that's a little rash, don't you think?" He asks as you turn back to face him.
"I don't!" You insist. "I mean, it sucks, but this is far too risky. We're done with... whatever this is."
Coryo shrugs, clearly unaffected by your concerns. "Let's just... next time, let's just go for dinner or something."
You tilt your head at him. "What? That's not, we can't-"
"Why not?" He asks, closing the space between you and reaching his hands out to grab your waist. "Your sister will suck it up eventually. Once she realizes how in love you are with me."
"I- I am not in love with you!" You protest, cheeks flushing pink again. "And even if I was, which I am most definitely not, she would scalp me. She doesn't care, I can't date one of her friends."
"Let me handle her." He insists, once again shrugging it off. "I'm being serious. I really like spending time with you, would it be the worst thing if we were together?"
"Wait, like, you're asking me out?"
He gives you a quick nod, still smiling at you.
"I- I mean sure, if that's what you want." You nod, blush spreading evenly across your nose. You had to blink a few times to confirm you were awake and that this was real.
"I'm asking if that's what you want." He chuckles.
"Yeah, yes. Of course." You shake your head, trying to get your thoughts straight and pull yourself together. "I would like that, Coryo."
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catindabag · 5 months
Text
TBOSAS CRACK! TAKE: ✨HIMBO CORYO SNOW✨
⭐️❄️⭐️
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So I was drinking and talking with my friends about TBOSAS yesterday and I remember one of them joking and saying something about how the story would’ve been so much different if Coryo Snow had the same ✨goofball energy✨ as Tom Blyth (his actor).😂
I think I choked on my drink on that one, ‘cuz imagine thee Coriolanus Snow (Le Poor Cabbage Boy) with the same himbo goofball energy and carefree attitude as Tom Blyth. The Hunger Games would’ve died right there and then. Heck! Dr. Gaul would rather feed herself to her mutts or die from aneurysm than consider Himbo!Coryo as her apparent heir and apprentice.
Also, Dean Highbottom would probably be too busy dying inside whenever he sees a happy Coryo Snow smiling and skipping like an idiot while hanging out with his genuine BFF, Sejanus Plinth.🤣
Dean Highbottom be like:
Casca: *is drunk AF* Oh Panem, why am I even here? Just to suffer-
Coryo: ✨Good morning✨❤️, Sir! I hope you’re having a great day today. *waves like an idiot*😊
Casca: Fml. The bane of my existence is here again.😩
Coryo: My dear friend Sejanus gave me some chocolate cookies earlier. Do you want to try one, Sir? They’re very delicious~.🥰
Casca: *dumbfounded* How the heck are you even Crassus Xanthos Snow’s son?!
Coryo: Well, people say that I look like him. So yeah, I am his son.😀
Casca: No you ain’t! You’re too nice and too happy to be his! So you must’ve been adopted!
Coryo: But sir, I really am his son.🥺
Casca: Please just tell me you were adopted-
Coryo: But sir-
Casca: Look me in the eye and tell me you hate me! Please, I beg you!!😭🔪
Coryo: Sejanus! Sej, help! The Dean is drunk again! He’s saying weird things to me!
Sejanus: I’m on my way, my love- I mean, ✨bestie✨!😘
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