Tumgik
#thg x you
faetreides · 2 days
Note
Would modern!coryo like being called daddy? Like reader is all dumb from him overstimulating them and it just slips out.. how would he react?
This is so me, like i’m scared of this happening. no one has made me cum tho so i’m probably safe
╰ • ✫ - ❛LILY OF THE VALLEY!❜ ✎ᝰ.
cw: daddy kink, typical coryo warnings, reader is so baby in this and he’s so bf like 😖, school stress, cunnilingus like he EATS you out to the bone fr, pain play, mentions of blood kink and piss kink, pet play coded, unedited porn for the soul, afab reader, THIS ONE GOES TO OUT TO ALL MY FREAK MODERN!CORYO TRUTHERS, reader and coryo at their most real, pretentious use of latin pet names, hinted breeding kink
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You’ve been keeping it to yourself for so long, still wallowing in the idea that you should be shy about your kinks. You’ve never had a partner like Coryo before, you haven’t had a partner, period. Normally you just muffled it into a pillow while you fingered yourself to an unsatisfying orgsm and called it a day. But now you had an insatiable boyfriend with a sizable sadistic streak… among other things.
Are Daddy kinks the worst thing someone could be into? No, and you know that perfectly well. You also know that there’s enough stigma around it for you to keep it yourself. You didn’t need conversations about “daddy issues” or creepy men who assumed that that information gave the green light to do whatever they wanted to your body.
You had never admitted this to Coryo, but one of the reasons you were so nervous about your first time was because you knew it was only a matter of time before it slipped out. All the rumors and spilled stories from his past flings and hookups (things you prefer to not let get to you too much) made it even more clear that if anyone could drag that out of you, it was him.
It’s a miracle you didn’t blurt it out during your first time, you were so fucked out he could’ve told you that you said anything and you would’ve believed him. No, despite Coryo’s casual dominance that is apparent in how he pecks your lips after every bite you take from the fancy finger food held in his hands, your secret is kept safe.
That is… until the stress of assignments piling up builds up to a boiling point, and you’re left sobbing into your boyfriend’s chest.
“Shh, petal, get it all out.” He hums, slowly dragging his fingertips up and down your shaking back. “You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t calm down, baby. Let’s take some deep breaths, okay?”
“Okay..” You heave.
Coryo gently pulls your hair and directs your forehead to knock against his. It startles you out of your teary state for a moment, you blink in confusion and he chuckles. His eyes are so warm, they could set you on fire right there on his lap. His hold on your head doesn’t let up, and you sniffle as you place your hands on his chest.
He directs you to breathe with him, “One… two… three… four… hold it… now breathe out through your mouth, do that a few times with me, alright, dove?”
“One… two… three… four…” You repeat his words, which helps you center your focus on the pure love in Coryo’s stunning eyes.
After every set Coryo makes a childish ‘woosh’ sound, purposefully blowing hot air into your face. It has the intended result and he grins triumphantly at your watery giggles. Once he’s calmed you down enough, he’s leaping into action and raining down an army of kisses all over your cute face.
You’re too sensitive for it, but he wants to tease you for being “Daddy’s little crybaby” so fucking bad. This isn’t the moment though, perhaps when it’s something different, like tears of joy because of how much your engagement ring sparkles in the sunlight.
Yeah, he knew before you came right out and said it, have you forgotten who exactly you’ve promised your soul to? Don’t be silly.
After a certain point the sticky kisses become more and more heated, and by the time he reaches your lips he’s pressing your mouths together. Coryo slowly tilts your head to the side, opening up your mouth and lazily sucking your tongue. Like you always do, you start bucking your hips against his crotch in short and subconscious movements. He smirks into the kiss, pulling away to speak.
“I bet I know just the thing to get you all fixed up, huh petal?” He coos, nodding your head for you. “Come on then, up you go. Don’t trip on your way to the bedroom.”
That’s just the start of his well intentioned meanness, that and the spank he gives your ass as you obediently hop up from the couch and speed walk to the bedroom. You’ve gotten so thirsty for him in the months you’ve been together, he’s almost proud.
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t to feel your brain leaking out of your ears and Coryo’s pink tongue deep in your puffy pussy.
Your hips are kept pinned to the bed by his nails clawing into your flesh, you’re honestly surprised you haven’t started bleeding but you wouldn’t mind if you did. He jabs his tongue again and you squirm, attempting to kick your legs out on instinct. Coryo tightens his grip on your hips, smacking your inner thighs and digging his nails in your hips even further.
It’s his mission to tear you apart in any way possible, in every way. A small hidden part of you is soothed at the reminder that there are some things you never have to ask for. He already knows, he’s the best like that.
Coryo stops tongue fucking you to spit on your clit, staring all wide eyed and whorish up at you as he gives it little licks. You whine when he doesn’t adjust his slow pace, wishing you were in love with someone who didn’t like teasing you as much as he adored spoiling you rotten.
You ruffle his blonde curls, pouting and having a fit. He smacks your thighs harder and scratches lines down your legs as he purses his lips around your clit. He honest to god somehow laughs as he latches on the swollen bud and firmly sucks. In between sucks, his tongue roughly plays with your now throbbing clit, viciously slapping it around like it wants to beat it up.
“Fuck-fuck-uhhhhhhhhh-you’re gonna make me cum-Daddy-shit, yes-just like that, Daddy, just like that just like that-oh my god, Daddy!”
Your squealing makes him laugh again, and when he registers your slip up, he clutches onto you so hard his nails break skin and blood starts trickling down your body.
He pats the area where your womb is a couple times, a silent ‘Good dove’ that goes straight to your core. You’re lucky you aren’t ovulating right now, or the sheets would be even more soaked than they already are. His eyes narrow at the little pouch on your tummy and there’s the slightest hint of teeth in his sucking, but he backs off to spit on your dripping pussy again.
“Mmm-that’s all sweet pets need to do right? Lie back and drool from every hole for their Daddies?” He asks, nuzzling the patch of pubic hair at the top of your mound and taking a deep whiff.
And you’re so good for him, you don’t even need a warning glare or a fierce hit upside the ass.
“Yes-yes, Daddy-um-um- ‘m your bunny-all for you, Daddy.” You pant as you try to catch your breath.
“Glad you’re smart enough to know that, baby.” Coryo bites the skin over your womb, caressing the indents of his teeth. “Never have to doubt my intelligent little flower, do i?”
“Nuh uh, Daddy.” You shake your head in agreement so fast you get dizzy, and he smiles before bringing his attention back to your warm pussy.
He flattens his tongue and licks fat stripes over your folds like a wild animal giving his mate a tongue bath. Simultaneously meant to induce arousal and bring comfort to his partner. He winks at you several times and regularly darts up to french kiss your aching clit, burrowing his nose so deep in your slutty pussy.
The sensual nature of it has your eyes rolling back, and this time you’re the one being savage, your bedazzled extra long acrylics make a mess of his shoulders. He lets your trembling legs go, keeping you in place by his raw determination to literally eat your heart out. His curls bound and fly as he shakes his head vigorously, pushing your clit and hood back with his thumb so he can focus on slurping your slick from your hole like it’s his job.
“No no no-stop, please-fuck- ‘m gonna make a mess-feels like i have to pee, Daddy- shit shit-no, Daddy wait ‘M GONNA!-”
Your orgasm rudely cuts you off, and you gush on Coryo’s mouth. You always say shit like that when you squirt, but you never know when your boyfriend wants your words to be true. You squirt until you can’t hold yourself up anymore, and you collapse against the bed in a huff. Coryo laps up your release with his signature pleased grin, he’s so glad to put you in your place and give you what you deserve. Trust him, petal, he’ll never fail you when it comes to that.
You don’t speak, you’re still twitching and coming down from your euphoric high. Coryo lays his hands on either side of your head and cages you in, hovering above you and cooing loads of praises and sweet nothings into your sweaty hairline.
“How about it? Feeling any better, dove?” He gingerly delivers the question with a loose hand around your throat and a quick squeeze to your tit.
You lean into the barely there pressure on your throat, too out of it to be embarrassed, “Uh huh, thank you, Daddy. ‘Love you.”
“Oh you are so very welcome, mellilla (little honey). Daddy loves you too, more than your bunny brain could ever imagine, don’t you ever forget that.”
It's 2 am by the time you’ve come back to earth. Coryo makes you pancakes with your favorite strawberry syrup after you eagerly show him your appreciation in the shower. He wipes your mouth clean when you’re done with the star shaped pieces. You fall asleep during an elimination on MasterChef, but he’ll rewind it for you tomorrow.
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bruisedboys · 4 months
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This celebration is ADORABLE! Finnick Odair with ❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜
hi honey, thank you so much! join the celebration
finnick odair x fem!reader (r is implied to be a past victor)
You feel a bit silly standing at Finnick’s door in your pyjamas, your face damp with tears, bare feet sinking into the carpeted floor. The train hums beneath you, almost hypnotising. You’re a bad sleeper in general, but being on this train has resurfaced so many things you wish you could forget. You don’t know why you expected any better, but tonight’s been dreadful.
You’re not sure if Finnick will even answer the door. You want to try anyway because your heart won’t stop racing and he’s the only person you’d ever want to see at a time like this.
“Finnick?” You swallow around the thick lump in your throat and knock softly on his door. “It’s me.”
He’s at the door faster than you expected. Perhaps he was having as bad a night as you.
“Y/N?” Finnick blinks at you. His hair’s a mess, his shirt crumpled. “Hey. Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”
You blink away fresh tears that threaten to spill. “I’m— I can’t sleep,” you confess. Red hot embarrassment creeps up your neck like flames. “I’m really sorry I woke you.”
Finnick shakes his head. “No, no, don’t be,” he murmurs, a pinch between his brows. “It’s okay, honey, I get it. Did you want to come in?”
You nod silently. He encourages you in to sit on the end of his bed, letting the door shut behind you. You and Finnick, you have a strange relationship. You’re very close, he knows you inside out, has learnt all your secrets but one. You think you’re in love with him, and you really hope he feels the same, but you’re worried that sparkly hope is blinding you. Either way, he’ll do anything for you, which is why you’re here.
You sit on his bed, silent. Your chest feels tight, like someone’s gone and tied a knot with all your organs. Tears well in your eyes and you blink them away desperately.
Finnick moves to stand over you, tall and firm but buzzing with worry. He takes your face in his hands, achingly gentle.
“You wanna tell me what’s the matter?” He asks softly. He swipes at your lower lash line where fresh tears are starting to gather. “What’s made a pretty girl like you cry so much, hm?”
You’re so upset you miss his blatant flirting. You’ll remember it in the morning, though, and you won’t be able to look him in the eye for the rest of the day.
“I keep having these awful dreams,” you say, your voice a strained, weak thing. You take a deep breath, determined to get through telling Finnick what’s bothering you without crying. “I thought they’d gone away, but I guess being on this train, it’s all come flooding back. It’s horrible, Finnick. I don’t …”
Your voice breaks. Your face crumples. So much for not crying. The first of a fresh round of tears spill over Finnick’s hands. He makes a sad, pitying noise and wraps you up in a strong hug.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He encourages your head to his abdomen, seemingly not caring that your tears are quickly dampening his shirt. He rubs your back with a big, warm hand. “It’s okay.”
He lets you cry into his shirt for as long as you need. You know he knows there’s nothing much he can say. Not that he’s said already, anyway. You’re always gonna be haunted, always followed by the sharp bite of grief and guilt. Still, it’s nice to be understood. To be touched like he’s trying to hold all of the pieces of you together lest you crumble.
Finnick rubs your back diligently until the tears ebb and you’re breathing normally again. He pulls back and you miss his warmth. You wish he’d hold you forever. His hands feel grounding as he tilts your face up to look at him.
“You’re safe with me,” he tells you softly. “Yeah?”
You nod. Your head hurts. Your chest burns from crying so much and you’re bone-deep tired. Finnick must notice, because he strokes your cheek fondly.
“You’re tired, lovely girl?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement. His warm hand where it loves on your cheek is enough to send you to sleep. You feel very safe with him indeed. “You need sleep. You’re welcome to stay here, if you want. Would you like to?”
“If that’s okay,” you whisper hoarsely.
Finnick smiles, a soft pretty thing, enough to make your heavy heart soar. He chucks you under the chin fondly. “Of course it’s okay, sweetheart. I think we’ll both get a better sleep if you’re here with me.”
You’re too tired to ask what he means, but you can guess.
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you-til-i-die · 16 days
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wishin’ I could write my name on it
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f.odair x fem!reader
summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives
warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing
song: august - ts
wc: 1.9k
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺
You and Finnick have one rule.
Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.
When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.
But they are.
And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.
It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.
It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.
It’s everywhere and it’s everything.
There’s no escaping it.
It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.
Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.
————————————————————————
It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.
You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.
You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.
You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.
“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”
His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.
You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.
You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.
You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.
Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.
You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.
It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.
You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”
It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.
He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.
“Oh.”
“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.
“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.
“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”
No no no no no no no please no.
You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.
You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.
But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.
You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.
“Honey?”
You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”
“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.
You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.
“‘M just thinking.”
“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.
You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.
“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”
It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.
“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”
“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.
He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”
You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.
You’ve won.
“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.
He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.
“Ow.”
“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”
You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.
Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.
You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.
You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?
Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.
He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.
“Are you drawing on my back?”
You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺
A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3
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phoward89 · 19 days
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Masterlist
Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, etc
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Chapter 4:
“You know, you might want to change into something more casual later- for when we go to the Hobb.” You told Coryo, who had an arm slung over your shoulders possessively while still carrying his sack over his shoulder. It had a few of his personal items in it so you didn't blame him for carrying it around instead of leaving it on your front porch.
“I will, darling.” Assured Coryo, walking with you towards the meadow. “So, how much farther to the meadow?”
“Not much.” You simply told him, spotting the vast green sprawling meadow and the large oak tree in the distance. Pointing it out, you said, “See, it's right over there.”
Gesturing to the meadow and tree up ahead, Coryo chuckled, “It's still quite a walk in this heat to get there.”
“The heat won't really start calming down for another month or so, but sometimes there's an Indian Summer.”
Having never heard of that term while living in the Capitol, he asked, “What’s that, darling?”
“An Indian Summer’s when it's unusually hot in late November, feeling like summer during late autumn.” You explained, causing the peacekeeper to nod.
“I hope District 12 doesn't get that this year.” Coryo grumbled, shuddering at the thought of breakthrough summer weather during late autumn. Ugh, he hates the climate of 12. He prefers the crispness of the Capitol; he's sure that you will too once he gets you there.
And mark his words, he's getting you there. No matter what it takes, Coriolanus is going home to the Capitol with you hanging on his arm.
“You and me both.” You told your new man, electing giggles and chuckles from the two of you. “You know, I still can't believe that I'm your girl.'' You admitted to the platinum peacekeeper when silence settled between you.
“Why not, Y/N? What's so hard to believe?” He asked, pulling you to a stop; tipping your chin up gently so that you'd look at him.
Coryo's crystal blue eyes bore into yours as you admitted, “I dunno, Coryo. I just wasn't expecting you to like me like that’s all.”
“Actually, darling, I don't like you. I love you.” Your peacekeeper confesses with a Cheshire cat grin.
He loves you? But you haven't known him for that long. And, yes, he's sweet and makes you smile- is handsome too, but you're not there yet when it comes to being in love.
“You love me?...” You trailed off in disbelief, your eyes wide as you stare up at him.
Coryo gently cups your cheeks in his hands, while confessing his undying love *cough* obsession *cough* for you. “Y/N, my sweet darling girl, I just knew it was love at first sight when we smiled at each other. That we're meant to be; I’ll show you my love and devotion every chance I get, my little dove.”
You felt a bit overwhelmed by his sudden love confession. You weren't expecting it. You know that Rein and Ashlie aren't going to be so accepting of your relationship with Coryo; that they'll flip if they hear him say that he loves you.
“You don't have to be shy, darling. You can tell me that you love me too.” Coryo sweetly smiled, tenderly swiping his thumbs along your cheekbones.
Coryo looked so hopeful, like a puppy that was excited to see their new owner, and you didn't want to ruin that by telling him you didn't know how to feel. That you weren't in love with him, yet.
Coryo was a nice guy; a good friend that went out of his way to protect you and keep you safe when you first met him. He was concerned about your safety walking alone in the district and he also had no family nearby. He seems easy to get along with.
Maybe you're just nervous because you've never had a boyfriend before?
“I've never told anyone that wasn't family I love you before, Coryo.” You confessed, hoping that would get you off the hook.
Actually, your family rarely exchanges those sentimental words. Life’s harsh in the districts, sentiments aren't viewed as important by your brother: survival is.
“I told you, Y/N, my darling, that you don't have to be shy with me when it comes to such things.” The platinum blonde boy told you, his baby blues shining brightly with obsession- although to you it seemed like adoration. He tilted his head slightly, only to ask in a too sweet tone, “You do love me, don't you, baby?”
You just couldn't say no to him. It'd crush him. Coryo seems so vulnerable right now. You couldn't be the reason that his bright cerulean eyes turned dull. So, you nod and tell him, “Yes, I love you.”
If only you knew how damning uttering those 3 little words would be.
Coryo was a bit unhinged; by telling him that you loved him back you had literally just tethered your soul to him. In this messed up, delusional, touch starved, admiration craving, power hungry, obsessive mind he truly thought that the two of you had some love at first smile bullshit. Coriolanus was desperate for somebody to love him, to be gentle, soothing, comforting, and just unconditionally kind to him, since he's never had that.
To Coryo love is to possess, to obsess, and to own somebody. He over thinks so, of course, he over ‘loves’. But, the thing is, the platinum blonde peacekeeper's so twisted that he doesn't even know what real love is, despite being shown it by his cousin, Tigris. Of course he’s sweet and soft to the object of his affection, it's only natural to be. Plus, if he was mean he wouldn't get the love he craves back, now would he?
Coryo pressed his forehead against yours, feeling like everything was right with the world since you vocalized your love for him. He knew how you felt, but hearing you say it was like heaven on earth. Oh, how he can't wait to ‘make love to you’ err fuck you nicely, to show you the depths of his feelings.
He decided that tonight, after spending some time at the Hobb, he'll have you.
“I'll show you just how much I love you tonight.” Coryo vowed before capturing your lips in a kiss.
Unknown to you and Coryo, Lucy Gray was under the tree in the far off meadow; watching what she assumed was lovers sharing secrets. Seeing Coriolanus twisting you around his finger made her heartsick. She couldn't stick around and wait for the two of you to join her under the meadow’s oak tree.
So, she slung her guitar over her back and took off towards the woods for a quick hike. The songbird was just walking to clear her head; give you and Coryo some time to defile her meadow, her safe space, before having to go to the Hobb and get ready for her show with the Covey tonight.
A show that she hopes you're not bringing Coriolanus Snow to.
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“It's beautiful out here.” Coryo told you, leaning against the oak tree while you nestled between his legs with your back resting against his chest. “But not half as beautiful as you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
The word beautiful to describe you is an understatement in Coriolanus' mindset. To him, you're the most precious thing in his life. Your kindness and friendly demeanor makes you shine like a diamond in his eyes.
He's never met anyone quite like you before. Back in the Capitol girls are very superficial and shallow. They're caked in makeup, sprayed in artificial scents, and squeezed into the latest fashions- may that be corsets, velvetene jumpsuits, silk dresses, or sky-high heels. But not you.
No.
You're genuine, bright, and vibrant in a world full of misery and falsehoods. You're a ray of sunshine in his life. You, in a way, remind him of his mother. From what little Coriolanus can remember of his mother, Demeter, he remembers how gentle and kind she was. How she always smelled of roses, how she was such a caring person; loved him unconditionally.
Yes, you remind him so much of his late mother. No wonder he loves you so much.
Looking up at the man whose arms were wrapped around your waist, you smiled, “And you're a very pretty boy.”
Coryo bent his head down and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Then, I suppose, we make quite the pair. A beautiful girl and a pretty boy.”
Sighing, you told him the harsh reality of, “Rein and Ashlie aren't going to like us being quite the pair, Coryo.”
Shaking his head, Coryo scoffed, “I don't care what they like or don't like, Y/N. You're my girl, so they need to accept that.”
“What if they never accept you?” You asked, hoping that he wouldn't make you choose between him and your family.
Little did you know that he wouldn't make you choose in that traditional sense. No, he'll make you think that he's supportive; paint your family out as the ones that can't get along with him. And when your family gives you an ultimatum, Coriolanus will be the one telling you that he's the only one that truly loves you; that'll always take care of you.
“Let's just hope that they do, darling.” Coriolanus said, taking one of your hands in his; linking your fingers together. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Of course you're not going anywhere, you're stuck here for 20 years.” You reminded Coryo of the conditions of his peacekeeper duties.
Coriolanus prays to gods, he doesn't even believe in, that he won't be stuck in District 12 for the next 20 years. Honestly, to him that'd be a fucking living hell. The only thing he likes about the muddy, depressing, coal district is you and the meadow. Other than that, the district could burn for all he cares.
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Your house was empty when you and Coriolanus returned from the meadow. Rein and Ashlie had gone to the Hobb earlier than they needed to. Neither you nor Coryo brought it up, you both know they're avoiding him. No need to talk about it.
“I know it's not much, but this is my room.” You told Coryo, opening up your bedroom door and leading him inside.
Setting his bag down on the floor, he gave you a thin smile. “It's nice, Y/N.” His baby blues took in the simplicity of the room, only to say, “Looks like the bed might be a tight squeeze tho, darling.”
Coriolanus made a mental note to buy you a full size bed when he gets you your own apartment, closer to the barracks. And he's going to get you your own place. In fact, he'll be looking into it come Monday.
Your eyes widened. You didn't think too much of Coriolanus staying at your house for his weekend leave, but now you're realizing that he's expecting you to share a bed with him- being a couple and all. You feel like it's all very sudden; maybe too much too soon.
“I've never shared my bed with a boyfriend before, Coryo.” You admitted as the two of you went over to your bed.
Sitting down, he smugly remarked, “Of course you haven't, baby. I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had.”
The platinum blonde’s proud that you'll only know him as a lover. He honestly can't wait to claim you tonight.
And talk about tonight…
“How long do we have before we need to meet up with Rein and Ashlie at the Hobb?”
“I dunno. Few hours, maybe.” You shrugged.
“Ah.” Coryo simply nodded.
“I made a wild berry pie earlier, we could have a slice to kill some time.” You offered, figuring that Coryo might be hungry.
“I'd like that.” Coriolanus smiled. “How about you go slice us up some pie while I change into my denim fatigues, yea?” He suggested, causing you to just nod in agreement before leaving him alone in your room to change.
So, while you busied yourself with pulling the berry pie off the windowsill and slicing it, Coryo was getting changed. You'd just finished placing your plates and silverware on the wooden table whenever you heard the heavy bootsteps of your boyfriend coming from down the hall. As you grabbed the small bottle of cream, courtesy of your neighbor Tam Amber's goat, you heard Coryo enter the kitchen.
“The last time I had pie was before being sent here; my friend Sejanus' Ma gave me a slice when I was visiting their apartment.” Coryo told you, his baritone full of nostalgia, as he walked up to the table and took a seat.
“What kind of pie was it?” You asked, sitting next to him at the table.
“Blueberry; Ma Plinth put a scoop of ice cream on it too.” He answered, reaching for the bottle of cream set between your pie plates. Pouring some cream onto his pie, he said, “She sends Sej treats; he shares them with me and our squad.” Gesturing to your pie with the glass bottle in his hand, he asked, “Cream?”
Figuring that he was offering to pour some cream onto your pie, you nodded, “Yes, please.”
“Do you bake often?” He asked, pouring some cream on your pie.
“We can't afford baked goods from the Mellark bakery, so I have to bake pies for us.” You honestly told Coryo as the two of you began to eat your berry pie.
It was true, living in the Seam meant that you're so poor that it's a miracle your family has electricity. Hell, your family doesn't have hot water or a bathtub/shower in the bathroom. The bathtub's an old tin tub. You're lucky your shack house has plumbing for a toilet and a kitchen sink.
You live at the end of the line of the Seam; it's considered the poorest place in District 12. And here you are, sitting at your modest kitchen table sharing a pie you baked with a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper. You couldn't help, but start to feel a bit embarrassed at how poor you were compared to the platinum blonde boy sitting next to you.
If only you knew how Coriolanus grew up in a crumbling penthouse without a pot to piss in, eating watery cabbage soup and congealed potatoes for every meal. Then maybe you wouldn't feel so inferior.
Hearing you tell him that you can't afford to buy anything from the bakery breaks Coryo's heart. It also makes him feel for you in a way he's never felt for anyone before- ever in his life. Yes, what he feels for you is empathy.
Which is a feat in and of itself since Coriolanus Snow is not a naturally empathetic man.
“How ‘bout we go to the bakery tomorrow; I'll get you anything you want.” Coryo suggested, his tone saccharine as the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile.
The idea of going to the bakery to get something excited you. You've never been able to do that before because you've never had the money to. But now Coryo’s in your life and wants to treat you to something from the Mellark Bakery.
Just the thought of it puts a smile on your face.
“I’d like that.” You told Coryo before taking another bite of pie.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence while eating pie together. It felt nice, just spending time with him. If only you knew that he'd be making sure that he's the only one you ever spend any of your time with, ever again.
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It was dusk whenever you and Coryo emerged from your house to go to the Hobb. He kept a protective arm wrapped around you while walking to your destination. You got a few judgemental or dismayed looks from people wandering around- mostly headed to the same place you are.
The Hobb.
“So, is the Hobb a bar or a nightclub?” Coriolanus asked as street lamps started to appear, signaling that the two of you are entering the Merchant Sector of the district.
Coriolanus knew that Lucy Gray and her Covey performed shows at the Hobb, but other than that he didn't know much about the place. He wondered if it was something like Pluribus’ nightclub. Or maybe it's smaller, more plain since it's in 12 after all.
“No.” You shook your head. “It’s an old abandoned coal warehouse that's been turned into a large black market and dance hall. In the very back there's a wooden stage made of crates that my neighbors perform on; there's also a makeshift bar that separates the market part of the Hobb from the dance hall part.”
“Lucy Gray's your neighbor?” Coryo asked, his baritone full of anger and resentment, as you walked along the cobblestone streets of the nicer part of the district. “I hope you're not friends with the little songbird.” He said very condescendingly.
“Of course I'm friendly with her. Why wouldn't I be?” You told him, only for your brows to knit curiously. Looking up at the platinum blonde, whose buzzcut brightly glows like a halo due to the streetlights, you ask, “Have you heard about her?”
“No, I had the unpleasant experience of meeting the manipulative little bird-boned girl myself in the Capitol.” Coryo spat out, as if the words were sour on his tongue. The peacekeeper wouldn't leave it be. No, instead he went on a rant of, “She's no victor, just a manipulative whore living off her charms while I'm forced to serve here. If it wasn't for me getting her out of that arena and back to her Covey, she'd be dead in a den of rainbow snakes.”
Oh no…The lightbulb went off and suddenly, you figured out that Lucy Gray batted her eyes at him and he wooed over her; causing him to cheat to ensure she became the victor. You don't have a tv, so you don't know what happened, other than Lucy Gray saying that she had to sing for her life and use her snake charming skills at the end. But now you're pretty sure that Coryo cheated; somehow got her scent aka pheromones to the snakes to make her a friendly familiar to them.
You didn't like snakes, but you knew enough about them from what you read in your apothecary book. So you know that your boyfriend had to get your neighbor’s scent into their cage or something before the snakes were dumped into the arena. Dens and pits of snakes will attack strange scents; especially when they feel endangered or threatened.
And now you know why Coryo looks at you like a puppy. He literally has no one, but his friend from home, because he was drafted into Peacekeeper service as punishment for cheating: for rigging the games for Lucy Gray's survival.
“You dropped something of hers into the snakes’ cage, to get them familiar with her pheromones.” You stated, not asked, in a whisper as you spotted the arch up ahead that marked the end of the Merchant Sector and the entrance to the warehouse and coal headquarters.
Coriolanus looked down at you, a proud, but slick smirk on his face. Your background in apothecary aided you in your aha moment about how he cheated. Of course you're smart, you're his girl. His other half. Only his girl would be intelligent enough to put the puzzle pieces together about what he did without having to see the physical evidence.
You're smarter than those fake twists back in the Capitol. Kinder and more beautiful too.
Oh, how he's blessed to have you by his side. He wonders if this is how his father felt when he met his mother? His father was gone a lot, ironically General Crassus Snow was the Commander here in 12 and refused to have his wife and son live in such squalor; would take leave to make family visits, so he doesn't remember much about him. But he does remember how his father's cold icy eyes would lighten up slightly when his mother was by his side; how his deep, stern voice would soften by a slight octave while talking to her.
Yes, the way Coryo feels about you has to be the same way his father felt about his mother. It just has to be; nobody can tell him otherwise.
Coriolanus knew that he couldn't tell you the exact truth of what happened to land him here in 12 as a Peacekeeper, but he also knew that the best lies were actually twisted half truths.
So, he spun you the half-assed truth of, “As my Academy graduation project I was assigned to be her mentor in the games. During one of our strategy meetings, she cried and I wiped her tears with my handkerchief; then when I learned the snakes would be unleashed in the arena, I placed the handkerchief in the terrarium.”
“You got caught when the cleanup crew found the hankie on the floor because it had your name or initials on it, right?” You concluded as the two of you walked under the arch; entering the area the Hobb was in.
“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. It's just his dumb luck that he has the same initials as his late father; that he had to use his father's old handkerchiefs because, despite being talented with a needle, Tigris couldn't afford to make him shirts and handkerchiefs- the material has to be used sparingly and wisely.
“Then Dean High-as-a-kite-bottom sent me here as punishment.” Your boyfriend hatefully hissed, sounding like a snake about to strike its enemy.
You wanted to ask why he called his dean what he did, but you never got the chance.
Turning to you with disapproval blazing in his baby blues, he ordered, “I don't want you hanging around Lucy Gray or the Covey anymore. She's no good, Y/N.”
“But, Coryo-” You started to object, only to be roughly cut off by Coryo's bitter snap of, “A girl like her, a lying, manipulative whore that sings on live Capitol TV about living off her charms; whoring herself out, while her ex runs off with the Mayor's daughter, isn't somebody I want my girl to be around.”
Dragging you towards the warehouse people were flocking to, Coriolanus seethed in a sickeningly sweet baritone, “If I say you can't talk to somebody then you better listen cause I love you; just wanna keep you safe.”
Not wanting to ruin the night, which was meant to be a good time dancing with Coryo at the Hobb, you nod and squeak out, “Okay.”
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Coriolanus feels that the Hobb's a crowded, dirty, dingy, smoke infested, shithole of a dive bar. Hell, calling it a bar's a bit much since the place’s a warehouse turned into a bar with dancing and live music- courtesy of Lucy Gray and the Covey. Being in a tin building meant that the clanking of boots on the wooden dance floor loudly echoed into the air, bouncing around in the platinum blonde peacekeeper's head like a pinball.
He didn't like it one bit. He'd rather be back home in the Capitol at a proper nightclub. Oh, he makes a mental note to take you to a posh nightclub when he takes you back to the Capitol with him- when the time comes. And hopefully it comes soon because he doesn't know how much longer he can handle living out in the districts like some filthy scumbag peasant.
The excited smile on your face makes him crack a smile. Despite the Hobb being a shithole, being out with him made you happy. You're proud to be seen with him, so he decides to stop getting lost in his head and just enjoy the night with you.
A night that's going to be full of drinking, dancing, and fucking.
The fucking will be after he takes you home, but he's sure that you'll enjoy that too.
As he guides you down some rickety steps that are so rusted he's afraid they'll buckle under his weight let alone yours, in order to get to the main dance floor of the Hobb, Lucy Gray spots you. She nearly fumbles her song at the sight of Coriolanus’ large hand in yours, your fingers laced together, as he leads you downstairs to the dance floor. The look in his eyes unnerves her. His crystal blue eyes seem dark, sinister almost, with an unchecked emotion.
One that Lucy Gray's only seen gleaming in not so nice men.
She continues to sing, watching as Coriolanus spots somebody seated at the tables against the wall. Her worried brown eyes follow you as Coriolanus leads you over to where a big-boned young man with a dark buzzcut and a baby face was sitting. His fellow peacekeeper rose from the table, only to clasped Coriolanus on the shoulder before giving you a friendly hug. The small he gave you and Coriolanus was warm and genuine.
Lucy Gray just hopes that Coriolanus' friend can keep you safe from the cold blooded snake. Because any young man that can lead on a girl, who's afraid to die, and convince her that he cares so she'll stay alive to win him a prize is a man that'll do and say anything to get what he wants.
You're her neighbor and friend; she'd hate for something to happen to you because of Coriolanus.
“Thank you, thank you, everyone!” Maude Ivory called out to the crowd as soon as her cousin finished her song. “This next song, well, you all know it; it's a good’un to do some two-steppin’ dancing, to.” The blonde tween cheerfully announced, stomping her feet. “So, 12, let's have a good ol' time tonight! Let's have it for Lucy Gray Baird and the Covey!” Maude Ivory shouted, causing the rest of the members of the Covey to appear on stage with their instruments in hand.
“Sej, can you get us some drinks? I'm gonna dance with my girl.” Coryo told his friend, who reminded you of a big teddy bear, before dragging you off to the dance floor.
Sejanus didn't even get a chance to blink let alone give his best friend an answer. But, seeing him spinning you around on that dance floor with a look of love in his usually hard eyes and a bona fide smile on his face made it hard for Sejanus to be annoyed with his friend. Without giving it a second thought, he left the table to go grab some jars of moonshine for you and Coryo.
Leaning against the bar was your brother, Rein. He was nursing his umpteenth jar of shine for the day while Ashlie, his girlfriend, worked the bar. He spotted you on the dance floor with Coryo, smiling and giggling as he spun you around with his fancy Capitol moves. Showing off like some big fucking hot shot.
Rein just shook his head and tipped back his jar. He wasn't drunk enough to watch you fall victim to some peacekeeper's affections and advances.
But you know what they say:
Like mother, like daughter.
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167 notes · View notes
underoospeterparker · 3 months
Note
i need dad!finnick
he was literally born to be a girl dad
thank you for requesting!
oh and i named their daughter emma!
"Daddy!" As soon as Finnick opened the door, your daughter rushed into his arms, smushing her face into his thigh. His entire demeanour softened as he dropped his bag and lifted her into his arms, wrapping her tightly in them.
"Hi Em, baby," he murmured, his voice deep and gentle as he made his way over to you, lying on the couch.
Finnick then leaned over you to press a kiss to your forehead, greeting you as well with a soft, "Hi, honey," as you let out a quiet sound of appreciation.
He sat down next to you, shuffled slightly to make room for Emma in between the two of you. She whined a little and so did you when Finnick slightly moved, but he was just getting comfortable. He shot you an amused look and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly in his own.
"How was your day, sweetheart?" he asked, clearly to you, but your daughter decided she wanted to respond.
"'t was good," Emma whispered, her voice sweet and dripping with honey. "How was yours, daddy?"
Finnick looked like he was about to cry of happiness, his heart squeezing almost painfully in his chest. "It was good, honey, thank you for asking. It's better now that I'm with the two of you."
She smiled, so bright that it reminded you of Finnick's, and he mirrored her face on his own.
It wasn't long before Emma fell asleep, her head lolling against your shoulder. Finnick squeezed your hand before moving to get up, so quiet so that he wouldn't wake her up. He was back in a minute from her room, so you didn't have enough time to miss him before he pulled you in a tight hug.
He rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you softened in his arms as he massaged away all of the stress that had built up today. "You must be tired," he whispered, pressing bundles of kisses along your hairline. "How are you, really?"
"Mmm," you agreed, pulling away slightly from his chest to look at him. "Exhausted. But my day was good."
He smiled, a soft one saved just for you. "I'm glad."
201 notes · View notes
cherrsnut · 3 months
Text
Hostage - Chapter 1
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Finnick Odair x Healer!Reader
Summary: Up until now, your life has been a solitary one. Being the sole owner of an herbal shop, and apothecary to many fishermen who have been injured. Just when your life seemed to follow the routine you were so used to, your life turns a 360 when you’re suddenly taken away for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. This turn of events forces you to accept the idea the Grim Reaper is stalking close behind you, faster than you had hoped for. 
Tags: Extremely Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Typical THG Violence, Forced Prostitution, Forced Lab Rat, Injury, Mental Health Deterioration, Psychological/Physical Torture, Death, Alcohol/Drug Consumption, Medical Malpractice, Fluff (bc they deserve it).
Word Count: 3.8k
Previous // Next
Chapter 1
Silence echoed throughout the walls of the streets, and for once it looked like the town had been abandoned, just like everybody had agreed to up and leave it in search of a better fate than what lay ahead of them, or perhaps all the citizens just simply vanished from sight. The breeze of the sea, just as icy as the ocean, seemed to catch on with the mournful mood of the alleyways. The tense atmosphere signaled the hidden mice to not even voice a squeak out of respect. 
Even at the plaza, everyone was quiet, and their usually lively ambiance ceased to exist. Just by the sight of the ocean, you noticed just how the wind didn’t spare any mercy for all the attendees of the Reaping. Making this already melancholic ambiance much harder to ignore. 
You looked around and followed behind the big agglomeration of people queuing up, making another step further into Panem’s hell. You pursed your lips together and gulped down nervously, patiently awaiting your death sentence. 
There were people everywhere, too many people for it to be so quiet to your liking. Although the great majority were adolescents of the oceanic village, you had previously realized the older folks stood far behind you, their suppressed anxiety over their children’s safety due to the men in white, the Peacekeepers, stance in front of them. Their threatening military pattern removed any type of confidence of any caregiver to sneak in and take their child away without facing heavy repercussions. Stationed there to install and make the proceedings of the Hunger Games go as smoothly as possible from outside the Capitol. 
The sea of heads that appeared in front of you made the stage barely visible, but you came across what looked like a Peacekeeper setting up a camera, of course, the Reaping was to be live-streamed. Just on top of a platform and above the stage, you were sure the crystal lenses would take up the view of all the adolescents present. 
“Everything will be alright” You turned to look beside you, surprised to find a voice breaking the quietness you were starting to getting used to and assume it would prevail for the rest of the annual event. At least before the cries of children as they break their realization of being chosen, or the burning point of a mother’s distress breaks out in a horrible scream. 
You assumed it was a pair of siblings, taking notice of the facial traits to be almost identical. Very blonde locks, both wearing the same warm coffee color eyes with freckles of the same hue spotted all other cheeks. And while they represented themselves in the body of the other gender, you found the boy to look somewhere about your age, his sister was a head smaller than him, and you thought it was plausible she just came of age for the nauseating event. 
“I promise” he made an oath to his sister, interlocking his finger with hers. She breathed heavily, the limit of her sanity crossing over a soon-to-be panic attack. She tried to fixate her eyes on him, fighting off a barrier to gain herself back together, a battle she looked like she was going to lose. Her brother, which you finally recalled his name to be Philip, crouched down and enveloped her in his arms. An arm protectively around her back, while the other moved around her head in an attempt to massage it to calm her down. 
Even in his arms, the little girl was visibly trembling, probably both from the fear and anxiety, that were purging an acidic bile up to her taste glands. The little girl’s forehead pressed on her brother's chest, finding comfort in his protective body. 
“Just breathe deeply, ‘kay?” he reassured. His hard fingers were full of little lines of scars, some of which you could recall treating at the herbal shop, and crept up to hold her face. Philip always found himself surrounded by District’s 4 aquaculture, and it was bound to happen after long shifts handling the wires of the nets to eventually cause multiple physical damages. 
Philip removed himself from the little girl and looked at her features. She struggled to do so, every time she tried she’d be under attack from another uncontrollable shaking. She could only grab onto his shirt, the shaking becoming increasingly harder with each passing second. The hand that was used to the hard labor of the sea, wrapped itself on top of his sister’s hand, much bigger in comparison. The warmth of their bond calmed her down just slightly, and he went to kiss her forehead affectionately. 
“I’m here” his whisper was carried by the breeze that brushed her ear, which tickled her slightly. Upon noticing your heavy stare on them, Philip looked over to you. Both of your eyes interlock with each other. You tried to give him an encouraging smile, but the heavy situation still weighed you down, and your smile came across as a sad one. One that showed pity and understanding toward his sister. 
He gave you a knowing look, before his eyes went to his sister, and suffocated further in his embrace to help her to get back to the queue. “I’m here” he repeated. 
The stern voice of a woman, announcing a “next” brought you back to reality. You’d forgotten just how the line always moved rather fast, especially so when you had a tendency to drown yourself in self-pity. You were always alone while queuing up to sign in, and never had people you called friends. But you were content with the short company clients or injured patients gave you, just like Edna’s until she died. But you did wonder how it would feel in this moment to be in the company of another person, would you cry together? Maybe hug each other? Or maybe just stay silent unable to utter anything that wasn’t bitter. But this year you felt differently, you wished for the little girl’s safety just like your own.
You gave your hand to the Peacekeeper just as you told her your name, and she took it with the rubber texture of the black-gloved hand of hers. The way she held it was rather rough, but you understood it as wanting to keep you completely still for the pinch in your finger and not mess it up. The end of the buzzing sound coming from the long mechanism suggested the dna withdrawal was finished, accompanied by the slight pain of the tiny nick, so small you’d never consider it an injury. 
The Peacemaker guided your finger, a blood drop visible forming, and pressed it on top of the inky empty box drawn on a piece of paper. Your name was attached next to it, with your general information written in smaller letters below it. You assumed the pieces of paper that were attached just like a book, were the enlistment of the possible Tributes of your District. But then again, you didn’t care enough and let that thought drift away just as fast as it came. 
Another mechanism, this one much larger and formed just like a box had been stepped and decided to stay in that flat shape. A laser came from the bottom, scanning the blood accompanied by the noisy sounds of mechanical beepings. When it was all set, the Peacemaker simply bid you farewell and called for the child behind you. 
You left defeated, another step closer to the selection process. The idea of you being chosen terrified you, and you could feel the anxiety taking hold of your bones. You prayed again in self-pity. Edna always mentioned the idea of sirens existing, and while you never truly believed in it, you prayed for them to listen to you. Every time, at the Reaping, for the past four years you prayed for them.
With an exasperated sigh flying out, you walked around the plaza trying to find a place to stand by and wait for your trial. That was until a hand tapped your shoulder and a raspy voice called out your name. You turned, even more surprised to find Philip along with his sister, both holding hands. 
You looked at the boy standing in front of you, expectant as to why he had called you. He gave a quick glance to the little blonde beside him before he spoke.
“Hey, umm, you mind taking Emi with you?” your eyes trailed off to the girl, finally being able to give her face a name. Emi looked at the floor, a mortifying expression coming across her face. 
“It’s just-” he tried to continue his explanation. 
“Sure” you smiled at the girl gripping onto dear life to her brother. You took out your hand for her, and with unsettlement pumping over her brain, she brushed her finger across yours. 
“So, Emi is your name” The statement oddly sounded like a question, but you wanted to make her feel more comfortable even in this terrible situation. To communicate with her, and make her see you as someone she could trust momentarily before she would hopefully turn back with her brother. 
Her crystal eyes moved up to you and murmured an mhm before walking indecisively toward you. She looked at the ground when you told her your name, but you couldn’t feel any type of annoyance by it, not when her hands were trembling exaggeratedly. So you squeezed hers lightly in an attempt to make her feel more at ease in your presence. 
Philp sighed and you noticed the heavy burden that lifted off of him. He gave you a small smile, the one he hadn’t reciprocated before. 
“Thank you” his eyes shone, which only suggested to you the tears he wanted to pour out in that moment. You empathized with him, he probably didn’t have much time to take in the Reaping for himself, and rather give away his attention to his sister who needed him to be strong in her stead. A thought appeared one which you respected and showed sympathy for the mental work they put in for the sake of the younger family members. 
“Don’t mention it” you smiled with him. You rolled your eyes at the girl holding your hand, and with the same smile, you muttered. “Let’s go Cupcake”
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“Hello Cuties” Sing sang the woman on stage. Her peculiar fashion style nationally known for the Capital’s trends flied around with her sparkling personality. With the color theme of purple pink and pale yellow, shades lighter of the sunflower petals, she wore a design that resembled a kimono. The notable way how the coat of the fabric was placed on top of the other to keep it in a steady place, and with the addition of the belt, covering the whole of the waist until just below her chest, as a means to keep the clothing stuck and not untie itself. The completely yellow obi, name of the kimono belts, was adorned with some sort of lacing at the top and bottom of purplish-dyed sheep wool, with the addition of a pink bow wrapped around the obi. 
The star of the fashion design was the sleeves. With a hole showing the shoulders and a few inches down the arm, the rest was covered in the beautiful colors of the spring. With many odd shapes and colors on the fabric. Which later opened up its sleeves up to three feet long. It gave off the impression of wings when the arms were pulled up. The rest seemed to just be decorations around her figure, from a fabric choker of purple as well as the striking head ornaments of the same color scheme presented. 
Her voice was too optimistic for your liking, and the singing tunes brought up were as distasteful as her color choice. 
“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be in your favor” The District 4 escort celebrated baring her teeth out with that pink tint across her lips, the same tint that decorates her eye shadow.
“But before we begin, The Capitol has brought us a special film for us” she again songed, and you were already starting to be filled with the irritation of her voice. 
Emi was still holding your hand. She had kept a close distance from you, practically stuck to your form from the moment we were placed here. She tugged onto your long skirt, and you looked down to find her somber eyes looking up at you. Although you agreed to stay by her side, her added melancholy was starting to affect your already distressed mood, and even though you tried to calm her down she seemed focused on her overwhelmed state. 
You smiled at her, with the film starting in ahead of you. 
“War. Terrible war” You rolled your eyes up while making a hand movement in a sign to poke fun at President Snow’s repeated speech. Your mock seemed to finally crack a little smile on the little girl, and you were pleased to see her relax a tiny bit. 
The film carried on, and your attention span had been but all gone. The Hunger Games were a devastating reality, that had already taken hundreds of children away. You couldn’t see the point of this little speech anymore, and right before the selection process at that. And it seemed Snow was trying to ridicule the Distrct’s anxiety. It exhausted you to no end to have to listen to the same words and the same images, and it got you wondering just why it had to be the same recycled film every single year. 
You thought of Emi again. The very same thought appeared every single year, just why were we taking the consequences of a revolution none of us partook in? The only person that you knew who was alive from when the Revolution was still afloat was Edna, and she still lamented that she was just a child when it ended, and luckily enough she never got chosen as Tribute. And that thought only led to helplessness because even though it wasn’t in the least bit fair, there was nothing you nor anyone who would be able to do anything about it. 
“The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness” It was the voice of a pragmatic leader giving a speech, sprinkled with sentimental music that made your stomach stir uncomfortably. The crease in your eyebrow knitting as you tried to forget the nauseating feeling from inside you, represented exactly in your self turmoil, you were disgusted. 
You gulped down hard as the film finally ended. You gave Emi a quick squeeze to comfort yourself. She only gave you a pointed glance before directing her attention to the colorful escort on the stage. 
“Alrighty. Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman” she informed, as you bit back your tongue to correct her misuse of words of man and woman for children. 
“For the honor of representing District 4 in the 67th Annual Hunger Games” she continued. She then started walking over the large crystal sphere. Inside laid the names of all the girls that had been forced to sign in, inside a folded piece of paper. “Ladies first” she giggled further. 
Her hand moved around the pieces of paper messily scattered around the sphere before choosing one. She quickly picked it up to her eye level, a sneaky smile appearing on her face. 
You let out a breath, you had done your best to try and calm your nerves. The anxiety was way past the boiling point, and you swore your legs felt drunk. 
The escort walks back to the microphone, and the only thing missing for her to further mock your emotions was to make a little dance around the platform, kick up some moves, or simply jump in excitement.
She opened the piece of paper. Your heart beating fast in the back of your throat, as another wave of anxiety filled every single pore in your skin. Her long nails made it difficult for her to open it, and as time passed on, you could feel yourself growing insane. You internally cursed at the escort, every cell in your body screaming at her to just finally read it. And before you knew it she called out a name, your name. 
Everything just stopped in you, and if it weren’t because you’d be a dead corpse from organ malfunction, you could’ve sworn your heart just stopped. Your eyes were locked on the colorful woman, but you weren’t looking at her. You were staring into space, you were trying to assimilate the situation you just got yourself involved. But you couldn’t, there was something in you, and that something didn’t connect the wires that you were going to die sooner than you hoped for. The idea of being picked for the annual event was always at the back of your mind, what would be your reaction? You thought that rationally, you’d be upset, maybe crying as well, or perhaps straight screaming and begging to do a re-drawl. 
But you weren’t, you were simply still. The look of every girl that had known you looking at you, and it wasn’t melancholy that invaded their intense gaze, but rather they were grateful they weren’t the ones chosen. As hypocritical as it made you, you were mad at them. Your internal anger was justified in your eyes, maybe because you needed someone or something to be mad at. But no matter how irritated you were, you’d done the same in their stead the previous three years you had attended the Reaping. 
With another exhale, you came to yourself. You needed to get on the stage. You walked out to the corridor, but barely made a step when Emi tugged back on your fingers. Her eyes were scanning your facial expression. And the way she spoke your name suggested to you, she was beyond her shocked stage.
You gulped another chunk of saliva and got to your knees. You smiled at her, as brightly as you could force it out. And it occurred to you to close your eyes, because you knew you couldn’t force a reassuring look without the fear lurking behind it. 
The military steps of the Peacekeepers echoed within every corner of your body so quickly and in a rushed matter. You kissed her forehead, as gentle as a flying feather, to put her at ease. 
“I’ll be fine, Cupcake,” you told her as confident as possible, trying not to let the fear accumulated in you spill over the beautiful young girl. And so you stood up, another quick smile flashing over your face before walking the hall that would send you straight to a living Hell. You kept muttering those words “I’ll be fine” as if you wanted to console yourself unknowingly. For now, if lying to yourself is what kept you sane enough to act normally, even suspiciously so, you’d go for it. And once the situation avalanched over your entity, you could collapse and lament for yourself on your own.
You held your head high while walking, your form an empty shell void of any emotions. The very pink hue colored on the escort’s face became clearer with each step, she smiled brightly at you. The wrinkles shown at the corner of her eyes signal of her enjoyment. 
“Wonderful! We have our female Tribute for District 4!” playfully expressed the escort, looking straight at your eyes. You walked up the stairs, with Peacekeepers in tow behind you.  
The escort held up a hand to you, helping you get up faster, so she could back to her selecting process, although this time it would be a boy. All in her chillingly joyful manner. 
Without hesitation, she placed the mic in front of you. 
“So, dear, tell me, was that your sister?” she asked you, although it seemed she was asking on behalf of the whole Capitol. 
“No…” your voice was weak, the intimidating audience just looked up at you which worsened your nauseating bitter taste. The escort eyed you, waiting for any further explanation.
“She’s my… friend” Her impatience only made your voice quieter, which she must have been content that your husky and throaty tone was speaking through the loud microphone. 
The sudden realization came crashing now. Seeing the look of pitied people just below you, wishing you luck before you left for the Capitol, filled the shining of water in your sclera and, you hand was lightly shaking beside your thigh. 
“Everyone, please! A round of applause for our lovely Tribute!” she called your name again. Her clapping was soon stopped at the awkwardness that she was the only one celebrating this. You breathed in and out heavy air. 
“And now, for the gentlemen” announced the woman standing beside you. Of course, she was trying to salvage the situation. You looked at everyone, and they were all looking back at you. You were lucky enough to connect eyes with Philip, and while you never considered him to be a friend, you were happy to see a familiar face. He was the only one to provide you with that comfort. He looked like he wanted to say something through his eyes, and you responded with a tear swimming down your cheek, and following its path further down your neck. 
“Vito Rosechaser” was called. The look of another adolescent, about your age or older roamed around his fellow friends, that gave him a sad look. He opened his mouth, surprised, and as the situation sunk deep into him, he walked down the hall, again with the Peacekeepers around him like frustrating flies.
Just then you’d taken in his appearance, from afar his eyes seemed dark just like his hair. Big build and muscles that suggested he’d worked hard in his life, and you lamented that he propably didn’t deserve this.
You looked at Vito at the end of the stairs, and his eyes briefly grazed yours before he stopped to look at the public. The mic was stolen from you.
“And finally” the hyper tone echoed throughout the plaza, loud enough to quiet down the crashing waves of the beach nearby. The breeze cold as snow felt like it had punctured your veins, and that icy hurt traveled through your body. 
“Our Tributes from District 4” her white teeth never failed to show at the camera. 
“Come on you two, shake hands” The oddly dressed woman grabbed onto the hems of your and Vito’s shirts, encouraging you two to do the action and let it be over. She stepped back, and the both of you looked at each other before gripping both of your hands. 
“Happy Hunger Games!” she sang happily. It echoed in every single rib, deep inside your abdomen. A voice you’d never forget, you were sure of that. Even long after the Games, if you’d even be able to survive, you’d be waking up with this chilling lullaby she was singing. 
“And remember, may the odds be ever in your favor” 
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celestialbeing2 · 3 months
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daffodils.
a finnick odair x fem!reader story
summary - as the flowers were blooming, so did your anxiety. why? a household slip up. it happens to the best of us. lucky for you, there is only one other person in district four that can calm your nerves.
warnings - not the best grammar, not proofread (fluff!)
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maybe it was just you allergies getting the best of you. or was it seasonal depression? no that's not likely. either way a wave of anxiousness had hit you. hard.
it was about that time in district four. the flowers were blooming, and the sky and water were a breathtaking shade of blue. the district filled with vibrant colors. spring made its way. and you weren't here for it.
on these days when you weren't feeling 100%, you would find your designated "comfort spot". it was a small patch just large enough for you to lay down without feeling suffocated. the patch gave you the best view of the sea. it was also surrounded by yellow daffodils. it was all far too amazing for the eyes.
as you made your way over to your patch, your chest felt heavy. thoughts were swirling around in your head and it was extremely hard to process one complete thought. you felt sticky from the sweat beads on your forehead. even though there was a strong breeze that day, you still managed to sweat buckets. the tears rolling down your cheeks could have also played a factor in the stickiness.
you weren't really sure what exactly happened, but the last thing you remember is dropping a vase. not just any vase, it was a family heirloom. before anyone in your home got the chance to figure out the source of the crash, you were out the house. to say you were nervous from the potential outcomes of the accident was a understatement.
as you finally got to your patch and sat down, your focus was on the ocean. the serene waves made you feel slightly better. but hearing the waves crash immediately brought the nervousness back. you tried to redirect your focus on the small insects around you, but the buzzing of the bees made you think of how your ears rung after the crash.
the ocean and the animals were checked off of your fixate list. that left the plants. in front of you was a collection of flowers. bu the daffodils caught your eye the most. some were white, some were yellow, while some were both. you love daffodils. they only bloom once a year, and they only live for a few weeks. so you have to soak in their beauty for as long as you possibly can.
however, the footsteps behind you snapped you back into reality. who could even be out here? no one knows about your little spot. no one besides...
"mr. odair" you said, turning your head around slowly. not ready to meet his sea-green eyes. his stare could be too intense sometimes. nonetheless, you loved it.
"no need to be formal with me, honey" he replied, squeezing his way into your area. you adored the pet-names he gave for you. the way they rolled off of his tongue made you love him more day by day.
once finnick sat down, the silence between the two of you grew louder. you stared at the daffodils on your fingertips, while finnick looked straight ahead at the sea. he has always had a desire to be around the sea. no wonder why hes the best fisher you know.
before you could fill in the silence, he jumped in. "why are you out here? i stopped by our home to see if you were busy but when your mother told me you were gone i was extremely worried. is everything okay?" he said, positioning himself to face you with his classic big doe eyes. this time they were glassy, as if he was about to cry. he truly was worried.
"sorry. i broke something and i just panicked. i thought i was done for. you know how my mom gets sometimes. i just acted impulsively, i didn't mean to hurt you." you answered him. you probably were too focused on finding the rights rather than on him, because he was in a different position, with something in his hands.
his fingers were moving quickly, weaving something together. you couldn't see what it was. his hands are always at work in some way. that wasn't new to you. what was new to you was his sudden vulnerability. he quickly wrapped up making the thing that was in his hands. he held it out to you.
it was the stems of the daffodils in front of you. they were tied into a intricate pattern that resembled a headband. on the side on the band, a white and yellow flower sat on top of it.
"i know you didn't mean to hurt me. you never mean to hurt anyone. i know you. you're selfless and kind. don't take my feelings to heart. i just care about you a lot." he said, averting his gaze to the band. he then placed the band on your head.
"it fits perfectly" he said, fixing the band and smiling to himself. if only he knew how adorable he looked. his smile was large. crescent dimples were indenting his cheeks, and the soft blush over the tips of his ears and cheeks nearly made you melt.
"i..i don't even know what to say" you mumbled, grasping one of his hands. finnick lightly chuckled.
"that's fine, let me do the talking" he said proudly. he then brought your head to his lap and placed it down gently, like it was made out of glass. he didn't live up to his previous statement though. instead of him talking and you listening, you two sat in silence again. like how it was when he first came to your spot.
this silence was more comfortable. finnick and comfort mixed well together.
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pixiexdusts-world · 3 days
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Incorrect Quote
Coriolanus: Did you take out Lucy Gray as I requested?
Y/n: Lucy Gray has been taken out, yes.
Coriolanus: You have my grat-
Y/n: It was a great restaurant.
Y/n: We had a romantic candlelit dinner.
Y/n: Lucy Gray proposed afterwards- we’re filing the wedding papers.
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d4yl1ghts · 18 days
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hey! so i had this idea where it’s Peeta x reader and they take a bath together. yknow just pure fluff and they take care of each other
close
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peeta mellark x fem!reader
summary: you and peeta share a peaceful moment in the bath
warnings: nudity
A/N- this is post-mockingjay by the way
-
You cautiously stripped yourself of your clothing before stepping into the bath where Peeta was waiting for you. You sat in between his legs with your back pressed against his chest. Peeta pulled you closer to him. You both loved physical touch as it would remind you that you weren’t alone. It especially helped after your games.
Peeta sighed contentedly as he gently massaged your shoulders where he knew you enjoyed it. As you turned to look at him, you noticed the peaceful gaze in his blue eyes and smiled at him. You loved moments like this, when it was just the two of you intimately bonding. You reached over to place your hands in his blonde hair.
He softly kissed your lips as he lifted you onto his lap. He poured some body wash into his hands and began rubbing it onto your skin. Once he was finished, you took the bottle from him and placed it on him as you stroked it onto him.
This was a weekly thing that you and Peeta did as you both truly felt at peace.
Peeta then playfully splashed some water on you. You gave him a death stare as you pushed a massive wave of water towards him. He chuckled as you were always so dramatic but he loved it. You sprayed some at his face and he ducked your head under the water, careful not to make you swallow any.
You ripped your head up from below the surface and pushed his head down below the water but he brought you down with him. Instead of fighting, you joyously pecked his lips as he passionately kissed you back before you had to get out of the water for oxygen.
Once you were both washed, you stepped out of the bath and Peeta handed you a towel as he had gotten out before you and was already wrapped up in one. You dried yourself and got yourself a robe as you headed to your shared bedroom. Peeta was waiting for you on the bed. He put on a movie and you curled up beside him. Before long, you were fast asleep. Peeta smiled down at your sleeping form before he too was taken by sleep.
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mysadcorner · 2 years
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Finnick Odair Dating Headcanons
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- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters in requests -
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Requested: No
• Finnick is going to be extremely sweet with you no matter how long you’ve been together or known each other. He’d a literal sweetheart when it comes to being nice to those around him and to you this is only amplified.
• He’s not exactly used to taking things slow in a relationship, but that’s mainly because he’s never been given the genuine chance to. If he’s willing to be in a proper relationship with you then he’ll savour the pace and try his best to go as fast as a real relationship should, since he’s always wanted to do it that way.
• Finnick is wonderful at commitment as he absolutely loves you and couldn’t even imagine being with anyone else. He may come across as flirty to others, but that’s just to keep up appearances and keep people happy so nothing backfires on either of you.
• If he’s in the Capitol then he definitely hides you and wouldn’t even let any hints slip as to you two being together, or even knowing each other if he wants things to be very secure. But if this isn’t something you need to worry about then he’ll show you off whenever he can and display yourselves as being the wonderful couple you are.
• Finnick isn’t a huge fan of PDA (at least overbearing PDA that makes others uncomfortable). However, he will gladly hold your hand and give you quick little kisses while out at every opportunity he’s given.
• Hobbies are a wonderful way for you to spend quality time together and this varies depending on where you’re from the same district or not. If you were then the two of you would already share interests in similar things, but if not then he’s always willing to learn or teach new things.
• At first you would have been slightly weary or Finnick due to his public personality and reputation, but this is quickly overlooked once you actually started to get to know him. He’s very down to earth and honest when he’s allowed to be, so it wasn’t surprising when you actually fell for him and vice versa.
• If Finnick ever thought that you would be in any sort of danger then he would be there for you immediately no matter what it was. He’s protective of you and always puts you first, so you’ll never have to worry about being scared or hurt when you’re with him.
• He isn’t really the type to get jealous of you being around others or being close to them. He knows quite a lot of deep secrets about everyone so he knows whether they have good intent or not, and he trusts that you live each other equally as to not be unfaithful on either side.
• Argument with Finnick wouldn’t last long, especially with how charming and listening he is. He’s always been able to figure out what calms you down and makes you feel better rapidly, and as he’s so wholesome towards you there could never be a reason that you stay mad at him for long for.
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faetreides · 2 months
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i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him
CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.
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So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.
So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.
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He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.
The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.
You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.
A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.
"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"
"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.
Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.
It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.
C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)
"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.
The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.
Welcome Home.
The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.
"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."
His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.
Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.
"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.
You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.
You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.
You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.
Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.
"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."
Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.
You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.
Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.
You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).
His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.
He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.
"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.
It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.
But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.
"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"
His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.
You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.
"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."
You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.
He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.
"Smile, petal."
The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)
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faetreides 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!
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bruisedboys · 4 months
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FINNICK X SHY READER PLS PLS PLS
okay okay here’s a few of my thoughts on finnick x shy!r … as a little treat 😁
finnick odair x shy!fem!reader
finnick odair who always has a hand on your hip, or the small of your back, when you’re in public places because he knows how overwhelming it can get for you. he’ll keep his hand there to let him know he’s with you, and he’s there if you need anything, and if you want to escape and go somewhere quiet he’s more than happy to help you with that.
finnick who lets you cling to him at all times, whenever you want, you can hold onto his arm or hang off his chest like a leech, he doesn’t care. he enjoys it, actually, loves feeling like you trust him enough to know he’ll look after you. he’ll let you play with his fingers when you need to, hook your hands around his elbow when you want him to lead the way. he feeds into your shy clinginess as if it’s his sworn duty to look after you. and, well, he’s pretty certain it is.
finnick who praises you after you attend big events with lots of people, like after a capitol party where you had to plaster a smile on and talk to so many people you didn’t know, dance with strange men, shake hands with important capitol officials, who you knew only wanted to get to you to get to finnick. after all the formalities are over, he’ll find an excuse to leave the party early, then take you to his room and colour you with kisses. between heavy kisses he’ll tell you, “you did so good, sweetheart,” and “you were so brave tonight, baby,” and you think you’d do it a million times over if it means he gonna talk to you like that afterwards.
finnick who has fun teasing you, because you get so, so, shy from the smallest things and he thinks it’s really cute (and it maybe boosts his ego just a little bit). he loves whispering overzealous compliments or dirty jokes in your ear while you’re in public to see your reaction. usually you’ll just get hot in the cheeks and avoid looking him in the eye, but if you’re feeling brave you’ll elbow him in the ribs or step on his foot. he loves hovering over you with a knee between your legs and telling you how pretty you look, loves burying his face in your neck to kiss your sweet spot, loves the way you shiver when he does.
finnick who looks after you the best way you could ever imagine (and more!) he’s so soft on shy!you and it’s just a dream <3
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bumblesimagines · 3 months
Note
you have no idea the lengths i would go through to keep you safe.
i know i'm not supposed to have feelings for you, but i do.
you're not just my best friend, you're my... nevermind. forget i said anything.
Katniss Everdeen
you're not just my best friend, you're my... nevermind. forget i said anything.
i know i'm not supposed to have feelings for you, but i do.
you have no idea the lengths i would go through to keep you safe.
Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader
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You gingerly plucked the small black-colored berries from the bush, treating them delicately to not squish them with your fingers. The forest felt tranquil, with only the occasional hum of a tune of a mockingjay flying overhead or the soft rustling of an animal in the brush. There'd been a time when venturing into the forest frightened you but most days, you preferred it, even if it meant missing out on some quality time with your two childhood friends, Gale Hawthrone and Katniss Everdeen. 
But after the 74th Hunger Games, you'd begun to regret not spending more time with Katniss.
You barely saw her after her return from those wretched games where she'd been forced to go from an animal hunter to a human one. You believed in her, of course you did. You'd seen her ups and downs, her breakdowns, the way she pushed forward to keep her family safe and afloat. You saw the brave and caring girl underneath her tough and quiet exterior. She'd taken a risk with the nightlock berries, all to save a boy she hardly knew because he'd been kind to her. And in doing so, she made all of Panem believe the two were madly in love. 
Gale - after all was said and done and she was back home safe in 12 - thought it'd been hilarious. Katniss had never even so much as held hands with a boy, let alone been in a relationship with one. Yet, there she was, pretending to be head over heels for the baker's boy. Gale laughed whenever he saw her, even when she gave him that silent deadpan Everdeen stare, and teased her relentlessly over her fabricated relationship with the meek blonde. 
"I bet lover boy misses you, Catnip," He'd whispered during one nice Sunday evening while out in the woods. The skin around his hands and arms remained tinted black from working in the mines, no matter how hard he tried scrubbing them clean. "I bet he wants to give you a kis-"
"Shut up, Gale," Katniss had huffed in return, her cheeks and ears flushed in a soft pink. "You're going to scare the animals."
You hadn't yet figured out if it bothered you or not. Their relationship was fake, sure, but Panem believed otherwise. How long until they'd be urged to marry or have children? Would there be repercussions if they 'broke up'? Would the Capitol have them killed without the relationship protecting them? Those questions swam around in your mind as you finished plucking one last berry and plopping it in your bag.
Your ears picked up the soft crunching of leaves behind you, too gentle to be an animal but too calculated to be anyone other than Gale or Katniss. You tied up the bag and carefully set the berries inside of your bag, listening to the crunching come to a stop as you rose and dusted off your knees. You turned around, expecting to see a grinning Gale with a handful of game but instead, you looked right into the gray eyes of the Girl on Fire.
"Kitty Kat," You murmured the same nickname you'd been using for her since childhood, back when you'd seen firsthand how much she and Buttercup despised each other. Once upon a time, she'd roll her eyes at the nickname, now she smiled, albeit rather awkwardly. You hated the awkwardness, the distance, the uncertainty of where your friendship stood. She had a new life now, a new home, enough money to keep half of 12 from starvation, a new boyfriend. Not to mention, she'd largely avoided you the first couple of weeks of her return. You chalked it up to her getting readjusted to life in 12 but then Gale had mentioned how strange it was given that she'd been fine with hanging out with him.
"Gale said you come out here alone a lot now, with him in the mines and busy at home." She said, adjusting the bow slung over her shoulder. "I thought I'd join you and see if we can catch anything."
"We can wait til Gale's free." You responded. "He'll probably drop by before his date with Madge."
'No, I... I want us to spend time together alone. I hardly get time with you-"
"And whose fault is that, Katniss?" You huffed and the girl visibly flinched, eyes widening. "You don't get to ignore my existence until you want something. That's not how this friendship works. If you want to go back to how things were when we first met, then just say that. I wouldn't want to cause trouble between you and your sweetheart if that's the problem."
"You know nothing is going on between Peeta and I, (Y/N). It was for the audience. For the Capitol. Without it, I might've died, you know that." Katniss snapped, and there was that fiery temper of hers. "I had to keep my distance! I had to- to be sure you wouldn't get hurt, (Y/N)! You know how much it killed me to not be there? To not talk to you for weeks 'cause I was scared something would happen to you? You have no idea the lengths I would go through to keep you safe from the Capitol, from President Snow."
"Why would you need to do that? Nobody's said a word about the hunting, much less to the damn Capitol."
"Because you're not just my best friend, you're my-" She abruptly cut herself, the tips of her ears turning a deep shade of red. Katniss shook her head, her stare directed at the leaf-covered ground as her hands curled into fists. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything." She breathed, brushing away locks of raven hair and turning around to leave."
"I'm your what, Katniss? Don't do that. Stop leaving me in the dark and just say it already." You moved forward, cutting her off before she could trek back to the fence and go back to acting strange around you. Katniss refused to look at you and instead focused her attention on different things around the forest until you brought your hand to her face and forced her to look you in the eye. "Spit it out, Katniss. You know I don't like stuff like this."
Katniss took in a deep breath and released it in a shaky sigh. "I know I'm not supposed to have feelings for you, but I do. And- And I hate it 'cause if anyone finds out, who knows what the Capitol will do to you or my family or even Peeta. I was going to tell you on Reaping Day but... I couldn't. I didn't know what to say and by the time I did, I was already heading to the Capitol. Nobody knows. Not Haymitch or Peeta or Gale.. I can't risk it. I can't risk you."
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phoward89 · 23 days
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Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.
Series Masterlist
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), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus
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Chapter 4:
You just resumed chopping up the vegetables for the quick stir fry you were going to make for dinner whenever a knock sounded at your door. Oh, so Coriolanus came back for his forgotten jacket. That's good. So, without giving it much thought, you put down your knife and left the kitchen- to go into the main room and answer the door.
But when you opened the door, it wasn't your platinum blonde ex that greeted you, but your current bronze haired boyfriend. Odysseus.
“I brought you some dinner from North Italia.” He smiled, holding up a couple of cardboard boxes with the restaurant’s label on them. “It's squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu.” Odysseus informed you with a bright smile, making his way to your kitchen. “I think you'll like it; it's what I always get when I go there.”
“I usually get the chicken parm and some cannolis, but I'm sure what you got me will be good.” You half lied. Oh, you were honest about what you always ordered from North Italia (a place that you and Coryo seemed to both order out from and attend his business dinners at), but not about how you felt about what Odysseus got you. Just the thought of eating something made of squid ink made you cringe.
Like, really? Squid ink? Food made with squid ink… You know that Odysseus is really into his District 4 roots, but isn't squid ink food a bit much.
“Hmmm…” Your boyfriend skeptically hummed.
“I was chopping up some veggies to make a stir fry with, but I guess I'll just put them up in the fridge for another day.” You told your boyfriend, following right behind him.
Upon entering the kitchen, Odysseus stopped dead in his tracks. The takeout containers fell out of his hands, due to his shock at seeing a red suit jacket and a large bouquet of red roses on your kitchen island.
Your eyes went wide as you remembered the roses and Coriolanus’ forgotten jacket that are on your kitchen island. Oh no…Odysseus saw them.
“Odysseus?” You tentatively asked, coming up next to him and placing a hand softly on his arm.
He could react one of two ways…
Either lash out on you or cry, but both would come with an accusation.
Pushing your hand off of his arm, Odysseus turned to you only to incredulously exclaim, “We've been together for over a week and you're already cheating on me!” Shaking his head, causing his bronze waves to rustle around his shoulders, he rhetorically asked, “What the hell's wrong with you, honey? I thought you were a nice girl.”
“I am a nice girl, Odysseus.” You told your boyfriend, only to quickly deny the cheating (that you finished doing not that long ago) with, “I didn't cheat. An old friend from my Academy days came over. He's a gentleman; has a thing for bringing roses, and forgot his jacket when he left.”
“You expect me to believe that, Y/N?” Odysseus bitterly scoffed. “Please, don't lie to me. We both know that you're not an Academy graduate, honey.”
That took you aback. Why would he assume that you weren't an Academy graduate?
“But-” You began, only for your boyfriend to cut you off with, “We both know what kind of people attend the Academy, Y/N. Hell, I attended it because it's for rich people, and sadly, honey, you're not rich.”
You felt a heavy, sad feeling welling up in your chest, but you pushed it down. You didn't want your new boyfriend to see you get upset from his words. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Plus you only felt comfortable enough with one man to let yourself show emotions around them. Or at least you did, before everything went down the previous month…
Trying and failing not to let your boyfriend's words get under your skin, you retorted with, “I know I'm not rich, Odysseus. I never said I was, but I was raised around rich kids despite growing up not having a pot to piss in.”
“Look, you don't need to impress me by trying to fluff up your background with Academy cred. I’m not into the social hierarchy of the Capitol, unlike my father.” Odysseus told you, clicking his tongue in a slight reprimanding manner. Crossing his arms over his firm chest, he revealed, “I like you, honey, but the fact that I can't trust you now cause of-” Waving his hand towards the red jacket and roses on the island. Refolding his arm over his chest, your boyfriend sighed, “I think we need to take a break for a few days, so I can clear my head and see how I feel about us.”
Of course, he wanted to take a break. You don't blame him one bit for that. If the roles were reversed, you'd probably want a break too.
“I think that maybe you should take a few personal self-help mental health days. Uh, 3 of them should be good.”
“What? Odysseus-”, You began, feeling that 3 personal self-help mental health days was uncalled for just because the two of you got into a fight and decided to take a small break, but Odysseus cut you off dramatically with, “I suspect you of cheating and you need to think about what you did. Plus, honey, we don't need tension in the company, you do work in the marketing department of the Odair Luxury Cruises.”
“You can't expect me to stay home because we're having a misunderstanding, Odysseus. Hell, we don't even work on the same floor.”
“I don't need any company drama, Y/N, and we're not having a misunderstanding. I caught you cheating, honey, and now I have to decide if I want to give you another chance or not; I don't need to be seeing you around my Pop's company while trying to figure out what to do with you.” Odysseus told you before exiting your apartment; leaving you alone in your kitchen entrance to stew in your thoughts.
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You’re alone in the elevator, holding the large bouquet of red roses in your hand; red jacket draped over the crook of your arm, furiously rubbing away the tears that are trickling down your cheeks. Your eyes were starting to blur as you saw the floor numbers begin to reach double digits.
You had to quickly dry your eyes. You couldn't let that platinum haired ex of yours see you crying.
No.
You just wanted to give him back his jacket and roses; thank him for fucking up your new relationship too.
Suddenly, the elevator reached its destination and came to a stop. The doors opened with a loud ding, causing you to step out and into the foyer. You didn't even bother to take in the foyer’s modern decor, just made a beeline towards the penthouse door. The sooner you give Coriolanus his stuff back, the sooner you can go back to your apartment and wallow in your misery. Think of something to say when you call up your boss in the morning to take a few impromptu self-help healing days.
Coming to a stop in front of the ornate door, you scrubbed your eyes dry for a final time and let out a sigh. Balling your hand into a fist, you knocked- quickly to signal that you didn't want to wait in the foyer too long.
It felt like hours as you waited for Coriolanus to answer the door, but in reality it was only minutes.
And when you saw him leaning in the doorway, eyes taking in your upset form, you didn't hesitate to throw his forgotten jacket and roses at him while shouting at him to take his stuff back and to stay the fuck out of your life.
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When Coriolanus heard the knock on his door, he was on his sofa watching the P-PANEM (Political-PANEM) channel on TV to see how he was doing since announcing his Senate run. And, sadly, he was ranked at the bottom, which pisses him off. So, your knock was actually a nice distraction from the bullshit he was listening to about himself.
And he knew it was you too. How did he know? Eh, call it lover's intuition.
It only took Coriolanus a few minutes to reach his front door and answer it.
But when he saw your red puffy eyes paired with the roses and his red jacket in your clutches, he knew that his plan worked. He just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Wow, seems like Odair just had to see you tonight. He was expecting the big cheating breakup fight to happen in the morning or tomorrow night. But it happening so soon worked in his favor.
“Take your roses and jacket back.” You told the tall, sinewy man in front of you while throwing the stuff at him. The jacket and roses flew over his shoulder, landing on the marble floor with a loud thud. “And stay out of my fucking life, you damn bastard.”
Coriolanus figured you'd be upset about a breakup with Odysseus l, but he wasn't expecting you to order him to stay out of your life. Okay, now he wants to know what Odair said to you. What happened to make you start calling him a bastard with a hateful tone of voice.
“Baby, what happened?” The platinum blonde asked, placing his hands on your shoulders in a show of concern and sympathy.
“My boyfriend, Odysseus, came over to bring me some squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu from his dinner meeting at North Italia, but he saw your jacket and the roses you left in my kitchen and now my life's ruined.”
“God, I hope you didn't eat the squid ink shit? That sounds like a case of botulism just ready to happen.” Coriolanus dryly jokes. On a serious note, he did think that the food sounded disgusting- but to each their own.
But hearing you say that your life's ruined did concern him. A simple breakup doesn't ruin somebody's life. So, he was getting the feeling that more than a breakup occurred.
“How is your life ruined now, Y/N?” The blonde asked, needing to know how bad he needed to punish Odysseus for making you cry; ‘ruining your life’.
“Odysseus wants to take a break for a few days and told me that since I work in the marketing department for his father's company that I have to- well he ordered me to- take a few days off for personal self-help mental health days; that Odair Luxury Cruises doesn't need any issues due to me cheating on him.”
“What? He told you that?” Coriolanus asked, not believing the bullshit manwhore Odair was pulling on you. You two didn't even work on the same department, with you being in marketing and him on the top floor playing VP.
“Yes, he did.” You confirmed with a nod.
You're a hard worker and great at your job. Coriolanus was awed that Odysseus was putting your career in jeopardy over his bruised ego. Fuck, even Coriolanus wouldn't do that. In fact, he'd do the opposite. He'd be up your ass at work, trying to work things out.
Then, the aspiring politician had a wonderful idea. Yes, yes, it was perfect. He'd surely win you back with his sudden spur of the moment idea.
“Come in, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you, grabbing your hand in his and leading you inside of his lavish and modernly designed penthouse.
“There's nothing for us to talk about, Coriolanus.” You objected, trying to pull your hand out of Coriolanus'.
Your ex just tightened his hold on your hand while closing the door behind you. “Yes, baby, we have something very important to talk about.” You just rolled your eyes at him, prompting him to say, “You're fearful about your job, so let's talk about a new career opportunity that’ll make you 92 thousand a year.”
“And what would that be, your personal mistress?” You sarcastically scoffed.
“No.” Coriolanus shook his head, leading you around the items you threw on his floor (the maid’ll get it in the morning). “You'd be my campaign manager; my public affairs advisor.”
“What?” You asked, feeling as if the air was knocked out of you, while entering the large living room with Coriolanus.
“Well, you'd be working with me at the Citadel as my assistant, but I'd have you running my Senate campaign and PR.” He told explained, leading you over to the large white leather sofa.
“Part of your PR would be me promoting your engagement and wedding to Livia, Coriolanus. I don't know if I can do that.” You honestly told him while sitting down on the sofa.
Coriolanus sat down next to you, only to cup your chin and say in a manipulative and soft baritone, “It's a money match. And arranged between Strabo Plinth and The Cardews, nothing more. You can do PR on it because, my darling rose, I hate Livia and she hates me right back.” Tenderly stroking your jaw, he went on to assure you, “I have no feelings for her, whatsoever. But it's you that I feel rather fond of.”
Hmm…so he feels rather fond of you. Nice to know that you're on the same level as an old stuffed animal or a memory. Things that people are fond of are usually things that get forgotten or tossed to the side.
Of course, you're easily expendable. You're something that's perfect to be fond of.
You loved (you still love him, but refuse to admit it since you're moving on from him) Coriolanus, but he's just fond of you. Just your shitty luck, huh?
But, despite how you feel, the yearly salary that Coriolanus promised you was more than enough to rent your apartment and to give you a life that your mother and brother always dreamed of for you. A life where you're able to be successful. And perhaps you'll be able to find love again while attending various social events that are only exclusive to high Capitolite society.
“Fine, I'll do it. I'll take you up on your job offer.” You told him, hoping that you wouldn't regret saying yes.
“Wonderful, darling.” Coriolanus smiled widely, pearly whites on full display. He thought that he'd gotten you right where he wanted you, but he has no idea that you're just using the new career move to secure a future in Panem.
A future without him. One where you can rely on yourself and show everyone that you're perfectly capable of being successful in the dog eat dog world of Capitol City, Panem.
Plus, there won't be any work drama at the Odair company if/when you and Odysseus decide to work things out and get back together.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @dcylight-fciry
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underoospeterparker · 2 months
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finnick w/ a reader who ate something bad or has a tummy bug (yes I’m projecting) n just takes care of her really well. Like rubbing her back n holding her hair, n being all nice cause in the middle of the bloody hunger games is not a nice time to get sick to ur stomach :((
hope you feel better soon, anon!
finnick odair x fem!reader, set in catching fire, 0.5k words
warnings: description of throwing up, stomach ache
You vaguely heard them start to talk about a plan but all you could think about was the fish you had eaten earlier. It was raw, but you ate raw fish all the time back home. You started to feel slightly queasy but you tried to focus on what Beetee was saying.
"Here's what I propose," he said, his tone serious, and Finnick and Johanna turned to listen to what he was saying. "We leave the beach at dusk. We head to the lightning tree. That should draw them back to the beach."
Finnick's eyes met yours, and you must have looked really bad, because he moved to crouch in front of you. His eyes were worried as he assessed your face. "Is something wrong?"
You looked like you were about to burst into tears. "I don't know," you whined, quiet so as to not attract the others' attention. "I feel sick," you admitted. "Maybe it was the fish I ate earlier?"
His gaze grew understanding. "Maybe," he agreed, offering you a hand and pulling you up. You leaned against him gratefully. You felt the nausea start to rise and you pressed a hand to your mouth.
"Finnick," you whispered, and he knew what you needed. He pulled you to a tree out of view and you knelt down, bile spewing from your mouth and onto the bed of grass.
He stood behind you, rubbing diligently at your back, soothing sweeps up and down as he held your hair away from your face. "There you go," he murmured, "good job, sweetheart."
A stray hair fell in front of your face but he was quick to push it behind your ear. You lay in a heap at his feet, exhausted, eyes big and watery as you clung to him. Finnick looked like wanted to kill someone, but his touch softened when he stroked your hair.
"You okay to stand?" When he heard no response, he kneeled down on the ground with you, bringing his sleeve up to wipe the corner of your mouth. "Hey." Your eyes started to water and Finnick leaned down further to catch your wavering gaze. "Hey," he cooed, pressing you to his chest, "you're okay."
You let out a quiet whimper, tremors racking your frame as Finnick tried his best to hold you together. He gave you one last squeeze before pulling away to assess your face. "You feeling better?"
You gave him your best smile, the biggest you could manage at the moment. "A little. Thanks, Finn."
"You don't have to thank me, lovely girl," he watched adoringly as you stayed clutching to his leg like a leech, "I'll always be here."
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cherrsnut · 3 months
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Hostage - Prologue
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Finnick Odair x Healer!Reader
Summary: Up until now, your life has been a solitary one. Being the sole owner of an herbal shop, and apothecary to many fishermen who have been injured. Just when your life seemed to follow the routine you were so used to, your life turns a 360 when you’re suddenly taken away for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. This turn of events forces you to accept the idea the Grim Reaper is stalking close behind you, faster than you had hoped for. 
Tags: Extremely Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Typical THG Violence, Forced Prostitution, Forced Lab Rat, Injury, Mental Health Deterioration, Psychological/Physical Torture, Death, Alcohol/Drug Consumption, Medical Malpractice, Fluff (bc they deserve it).
Word Count: 1.4k
// Next
Prologue
The waves brushed the seashore, singing that beautiful melody only the sea could voice out, a blessing from mermaids, Edna always told you. To keep you safe from the sea monsters whilst you were away in the treacherous ocean. It was an old tell-tale the older folks liked to conspire, while you weren’t sure if you believed it, you weren’t totally against it either. Many accidents occurred deep in the sea, and you had seen firsthand the gravity of those injuries. From scratches to open lacerations with immediate need of stitching. But for you, the worst ones by far were the infections, which naturally happened from a bite injury from a contaminated fish, often leading to amputations, and in some instances, you had to dismember a whole limb off a fisherman.
You looked up again at the scenery before you,  the ball of flame just waking from its slumber was reflecting each ripple in the sea, echoing its color towards you. Edna often told you a mermaid’s voice was the most beautiful sound any human could come across, so much so she was convinced we weren’t prepared to listen to their songs. But at that moment, if what Edna was even half true, you were sure you’d be hypnotized to believe the sun rays had created a hallway for you to walk, to travel down that shiny path further from the horizon to the end of the world even. 
The sky’s creativity brushed their colorful clouds given by the warm colors of the sun. With the pale blue of the sky´s natural form as a canvas, the clouds had been painted into shades of oranges and pinks. A truly ethereal sight, but for you, it only took you a second to take in before your attention was back on opening up the building, already too used to the sight of the waking hours of the sky. 
As if you weren’t cold enough from the night breeze, the building welcomed you with its silent frost air inside. With the signal of the cold shudder creeping up your back. You let a sigh escape, the vapor making itself known, to test if it was simply cold or icy. The visible physical reaction was enough to answer your question, so you got ready to warm up the frozen iglu you were standing. Opening the wooden back door, you frond yourself upon wooden shelves with the same pattern and color as the rest of the store, as the same wood had been used to construct the whole building, the tree of the artist being rustic pine.
Containers upon containers of unopened herbalism knowledge, each one of them sealed and numbered by none other than yourself. Nature itself had been manifested in there, some plants had been slowly growing for you to collect their fruits and eventually put them away here, to be used shortly after.  Others had been cut and placed with a bow and tag wrapped around it. Many types of plants and flowers existed within the store, some intact within the vase, otherwise, others had been churned and sliced or made liquid for your clientele, from medicinal or aromatic to poisonous antidotes. So it was natural when the herbal shop had the attraction of those who were in need of some sort of healing, whether it be physical or spiritual, the herbal store was open for those in need.
In reality, the owner of the shop had been Edna from the beginning, all before she passed a year ago. And since it seemed you were the next person who could almost mimic Edna’s miracles, or so the city named it,  it seemed you were the best fit to further her legacy. Of course, adding the fact that you were the closest person to Edna. 
You found the dry wood, and you were pleasantly surprised to find some logs to be completely dried off, you stacked them up onto the basket. Edna was especially adamant about using pine woods because their value came from its easy way to burn right off the bat. Of course, that meant that pine wood was more prone to burn faster, and that’s when oak wood made its shining appearance. Its harsh, hard, and thick texture made them burn for longer hours without constant checking up, and while Edna often complained about their prize difference, she still seemed to have some sort of dependency on the fiery warm calmness the chimney gave. Just a nice safe haven from the cold weather outside.
You often had Edna in the back of your mind throughout each passing day, especially the constant reminder of her stubborn and disciplined nature. So much so, many things, which you’d get abused over, were as simple as things, whether be it moving a flowerpot barely an inch to the right because “it just looked wrong before” or cutting rosemary “the proper way” and to “never disrespect the ways of herbalism again”, which quite frankly exhausted you to no end, earning her the name of Old Hag, only spoken when she wasn’t present of course, because, the thought of her finding out about her secret nickname was more terrifying than straight-up kicking a peacemaker in the ass.
Firing up the hungry insides of the chimney, you left the pine inside as its first dish, a quick little snack. With that thought in mind, you couldn’t help but murmur a joke to the chimney to be patient for the main dish because “good things take time”. 
Still, with a jacket covering your frame, you leaned against the window facing the perfect view of the port just a few feet away from you. Fishermen, with their young disciples, already untying their boats to take them to a new adventure, which most times led them to Edna’s shop.
You tended to think of those memories as a pleasantry, sure it had become ordinary and almost a monotone routine that you expected to face on a daily basis. Still, as you saw their dark silhouettes, and came to face with the much smaller silhouettes, you couldn’t help but frown with the slight pitching of your heatrings painfully.
 It was hard to forget tomorrow was the Annual Reaping. Unconsciously you gritted your teeth, it was something about their loud laughs while leaving the seashore, their shouts which were provoking the sea to give them tough challenges during the day, and just how they were signing joyful tunes, ignorant of what laid the very next day made you immensely uncomfortable. You gulped down hard, and as per usual you recited a little blessing for their safe return.
You blinked away from their overly optimistic sight, something you somehow found you couldn’t handle, the taste of bitterness present all the way to your heart. It left you with bubbled thoughts that popped into your mind. Pessimism and dejection were writing desolate letters in your brain, words too melancholic you regretted you could never send to anyone.
The little cling from the bell resonated, signaling the announcement of an early client. You had no choice but to brush aside your powerless thoughts and assist the woman who had just come in. Brown short curly locks bounced until they hit her shoulders. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Ashwood! Strange for you to be an early bird!” you trailed to a very much familiar face. You forced your learned charm out on display. Mrs. Ashwood took a second to look over your features, her sad eyes roamed over your figure, to take in all your shape. You could only suspect the reason behind it being much darker, she probably wanted to take one last look at you in case they were to take you away.
She tilted her head uncertain about the upbeat mood you were in. Then it dawned on you, that the fish children were doing the very same thing as you. It wasn’t necessarily ignorance or lack of knowledge of what was going to transpire, but rather trying to grasp any sharp shard of normalcy they had left before it would be too late. Before they’d be far away from home, fending for themselves in the arena, and before their untimely and cruel fate. So before the surface of the water rises atop your head and drowns you, you’d rather play along the unawareness card for a little while more. At least just until the Reaping hour tomorrow. 
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Hey guys!! this is my first fic here on Tumblr. If you like just how the story goes lmk and I'll put you in the Taglist. Anyways, love you guys MUAH <3
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