#district one marvel

[fanfictiongirlie]

The Hunger Games Masterlist:

❥ Smut - ❀ Fluff - ★ One Shot - ✶ Multi-Chaptered - ☹ Angst

Marvel:

➶ His Games ✶☹❀

➶ I'd Die For You (Sequel to His Games) ✶☹❀

➶Her Games (Prequel to His Games) ✶☹

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

I think at this point everyone has different opinions on each of the Districts and honestly I love that. It's so fun to read people's thoughts.

(I'm sure I'm not the first person to think or say this but) I have a theory on why District One/Two win so many of the games beyond just being Volunteers in a game full of people going in blind.

It's something I've thought heavily about and even incorporated into my own fanfics.

But District One, I think, they win by raising their volunteers to be pretty. They train them to fight, yes, but I think they pull sponsors by making their kids "sexy." In both the book and movie, Glimmer is heavily sexualized. In the book, she's in a sheer gown that shows everything. In the movie, they tone it down but still show quite a bit of her body during the interview. Even the two victors we get to hear a little more about (Cashmere and Gloss) are mentioned to be pretty. Despite being a sibling duo, they're incredibly popular within the Capitol.

But even after they get 'popular' they don't turn down their attractiveness. She still dresses pretty with make up and smiles like she's been taught to do. He's still beefy and hot. You would think if they had any bodily autonomy they would start to tone themselves down in order to get away from the sex slavery.

I think sex appeal is what makes them a victor. Literally. People 'sponsor' them in the hopes of getting to fuck them. They get told that these people are who they're indebted to and most likely are forced into sex as a way to 'repay' them. Everyone says if Glimmer had won she would become the next Cashmere. Which is true. But no one points out how this is planned and a tactic that one consistently uses. Once they win they realize how fucked they are. They don't know they shouldn't want to win until it's over. It's too late to back out. Part of why Cashmeres life is devastating is because Gloss knew what was coming and he wanted better for her. But it happened away. And now they're stuck repaying the Capitol with their bodies.

In Two I think they raise fighters. They put all their effort into skill, endurance and survival. Out of all of the districts I think they do the best at giving them a chance. They make sure they send the best trained, the most skilled and the smartest. Clove is such a good example of this. She never missed her target. (Except for when Katniss moved the backpack making her miss). She was brilliant. Cato too. He was strong and a fantastic fighter. They only lost because the story demanded Katniss win. Hell there's so many moments where Katniss almost dies at their hands only to **magically** get away. (Thresh owing her, tracker jacker nest, not seeing her a few feet away) all of it. They weren't stupid meat heads. They were warriors. Children raised to kill.

I think they delbrately send plain victors. They don't want want to send "pretty" kids. They tone down any sort of beauty their tributes have. One of my favorite examples is Enobaria. She's pretty. And I think that's her downfall. It's mentioned in the series that she wins by ripping another tributes throat out with her teeth. (A popular theory is she was raped and used the very last thing she had in order to get away.) But she ends up getting her teeth filed down. While a lot of people think it was the Capitol, I believe it was her mentors. They filed them down, knowing she wouldn't be able to be raped again. I mean, who would have sex with her knowing one wrong move and you could be dead? She can bite your dick off in seconds if she wanted to. (Not to say she doesn't get booked) It would sway a lot of people away. I think much like Haymitch fighting against Katniss's breast implants, her mentors fought to get her teeth sharpened.

If they're able to I believe Two will alter the victors in order to make them less desirable. One plays it up, Two tones it down winning off skill and merit alone. Any sponsors they get isn't driven by sex.

It's why they win so much, and why the other districts have such a hard time getting sponsors.

I also think that District Four, the last of the career pack, has it's own way of creating victors. They send tributes like the rest but I think they do something different from the rest. My own headcanon is that they send orphans. It's fucked up but if I remember correctly they never mention Finnick having family.

I think they take the kids with nowhere else to go and put them in a training center. Whoever scores the best goes that year. Unluckily for Finnick, he was picked at 14. He was attractive, and part of me thinks Mags played into that to give him the advantage, thinking he didn't have family to leverage. It would have been fine, but then Annie happened. They use her as a control tactic.

I also think Finnick is the reason it was a one and done on leaning into the sex appeal. It fucked him over. Annie was pretty too but she wasn't used. (No one has ever said ah yes she's crazy let's just not rape her, fuckwads do it anyways.) But I think Mags learned from her mistake and played Annie down. Made her less pretty like they do in Two.

It's fucked. The entire system is fucked. But I think each 'career' district creates winners any way they can. No one in Four would volunteer they're disillusioned unlike one and two. So why not send the kids who have nothing, no one to come back to? In Two why not train them and maim them after to keep them safer? In One why not make them fuckable to win? They won't understand until its too late?

Maybe I've overthought this. Probably have. Idk. Just a thought.

[inarmes]

so anyway when anyone holds the belief that the career kids were evil and were natural born killers you are equally dehumanizing them like the systems of training they were put in. you are adultifying children who were brainwashed and forced to learn the ways of slaughter for sake of glory. we could talk about their parallels to war also, but the main thing here are these are children taught that in order to appease their district they must kill ruthlessly and without second regard for anyone else in th equation. their win and their path of success only, even if in the end they're still cannon fodder like all other victors. like how many time does it have to be said that the careers are VICTIMS. not villains like they're portrayed as by the narrative.

[ellyraeken]

do you guys ever sit and think about the career tributes in the hunger games. how they wouldn’t be the way they are if they were simply born in another district? how clove was 15, cato was 16, and glimmer and marvel were 17? they were kids too, manipulated from the time they were conscious. people who hate them completely missed the point of the franchise.

remember who the real enemy is.

[cloverskentwells]

i know the careers already have fucked up childhoods on their own but just imagine clove with a serial killer for a dad!! you know, like a tara carpenter/hope mikaelson situation. it makes a lot of sense for her character and explains why she's slightly more unhinged and feral than cato or glimmer

[clatoera]

What’s D1’s victor talents in your au? Cash Gloss Glim & Marvel

Okay so I made that post, got this ask and then immediately had to go to surgery so I stood there thinking about this and then stewed about it all night long after. This is a big one. Okay.

I want to start with Gloss. I actually implore you to once again read a work by @bodyelectric77 (loml) in which he's blowing shit up and calling it science. That being said I'm going to answer this in terms of how I was saying earlier that talent training is PART of D1 training just like media training would be (to me). So in that note Looking at him I feel like he was definitely trained in like..extreme Men's Gymnastics skills. Like the kind that take immense strength. I don't think that ends up being the talent he pursues necessarily, but it was probably the one he was trained for.

Cashmere I almost also said gymnast however, I had another conversation the other day with @bodyelectric77 about how Glimmer and Cashmere in the setting of like a modern-er au would be like the family that is really competitive dancers. I think Cashmere specifically has the vibes of being trained Classically in Ballet. Like think Vaganova. I think the way her body is maintained by D1 is very reminiscent of a ballet dancer. Like she has that very classic Ballet grace in my head, as well as like the dancer legs we all know dancer legs. In that same note I think the flexibility of her body is absolutely weaponized and used against her by her abusers. Cashmere would be a ballet dancer.

Glimmer I think is a unique case. As we know I did mention quite a few times that she really would have designed designing dresses (like formal event dresses). That is not what I think she was like..trained in. I think people saw potential to like advertise Glimmer and Cashmere as this sister duo (and unfortunately they ARE advertised like that just not..for their talents) and so I think Glimmer also underwent intense dance training but in a different style like I can see more of a lyrical emotive style? In that SAME note I think they had yet another backup and Glimmer is the unique case in that they were like okay no cant bank on that we may not need Cashmere 2.0. I think towards the end of her training the plan derailed maybe towards singing? Then you have a singer and dancer sisters. I don't think she was like a classical singer but there was the potential to essentially turn her into like..the equivalent of a pop princess. Think of Britney Spears and what happened to her, that likely would have been the same trajectory. I don't think she's amazing but she isn't bad either. People weren't looking at her because they liked the way she spoke. So for that reason I think she had kind of extensive cross talent training in both dance and singing, but really if she could have chosen she would have done like a fashion design. Her dance training was also used against her. I've had a few conversations about Glimmer being a lil dancy girly with @kentwells so! Credit to her as well!

Of note, Glimmer, Gloss, and Cashmere all have I think like genetic flexibility and hip mobility. So that allows them to do a lot of it. Good genes.

Glimmer's definitely the type like at 30 to still stand on her toes and see how long she can force the arch in her feet or sits in really weird positions. Cash can stick her foot next to her head in the shower to like make sure she shaves her legs perfectly. They all have insane posture.

Marvel is going to feel a little out of left field but hear me out. I think he ends up like...idk he think he should be a comedian. He could be a FANTASTIC late night talk show host. However, I think he was trained on playing the piano. The reason I say that is like..he has long gangly fingers. He's tall he's lanky. With that comes like...long fingers that are skinny and pretty flexibile. I think he was actually really really good at it. Like to this point if you put him in a room with a piano it all comes back like muscle memory. Clove and/or Cato would be mouth open jaw dropped in shock because noone expects it from him. I don't think he has much opportunity to show it off but..he feels like a piano guy to me!

Thank you friend!! i thought of this ALL day!

[startgame]

how i would dress each district for the opening ceremony in the hunger games: district 1 - luxury

district 1 may be one of the few districts with access to luxurious fabrics and materials, so when i think of district one i think of diamonds and jewels.

i see the careers wearing jewel embellished gowns, with diamonds or pearls. made with light colors such as white, gold, and silver.

for the girls i envision something with wings, something that really stands out. we ain't gonna let the luxe girlies flop

and for the guys something similar, with matching color scheme. maybe a suit is too basic but for me nothing says classy like a well tailored suit. i think a well designed piece could rlly make a statement.

all in all, the opening ceremony is supposed to astound the audience. the capitol is already so extravagant so why not dress the careers like royalty? category is: HEAVENLY.

[i'm gonna tag these all under #the hunger games fashion if y'all wanna follow along.]

[daydreamer-in-reverie]

Started rereading the Hunger Games series and I feel like it’s so overlooked how in 74th and 75th Hunger Games, we don’t know every Tribute’s names, with Katniss only referring to them by their District numbers but in TBOSAS, we knew every single Tribute by name. We associated them with the clothes they wore on the Reaping Day and Suzanne even goes so far as to describe how they looked, however briefly. We see these Tributes and we’re familiarized with them by the little tidbits provided to the mentors and to Snow and Lucy Gray. But we never get this in the original trilogy.

In two generations, President Snow alienated the Districts from each other so much that Katniss didn’t even care to know all the names of the Tributes sent into the Arena with her, with the exception being those who posed great risk against her safety and those she felt great compassion for (e.g. Cato, Thresh, Rue, Mags, Betee, Wiress etc.). Katniss even went so far as to call the D6 Tributes in the 75th Hunger Games morphlings, for their affinity to imbibe in the drugs that help them forget their own traumas (an incredibly hurtful description, in my own opinion, to be known by the qualities you hate the most about yourself). We never know the real name of the 74th D5 girl, with Katniss only referring to her as Foxface and we don’t even know Marvel’s name until we get to the second book and he was Katniss’ first personal kill. Katniss even kills the D4 girl in the books with the same tracker jacker venom that killed Glimmer and yet still, we don’t know her name. We are so removed from the identity of the other Tributes that we don’t even know what some of them looked like beyond brief descriptions of mangled bodies and dead Tributes in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.

And, the thing is, Suzanne established the importance of names in the series. Even in real life, we recognize the importance of being named. It is a fundamental aspect of being human. If you’re ever in a perilous situation where a person might be placing your life in danger, we’re told to remind the person that you’re human. “Keep saying your name, how old you are, where you came from. Remind them you are a human being just like them.” Before any propaganda can work against a group of people, refusing to recognize a person’s name is the first step to dehumanization. And just like the people of the Districts, we don’t care enough about the other Tributes to even want to know their names. Their propaganda worked on us, the readers.

In two generations, President Snow completely wiped out any sense of familiarity and camaraderie the Districts may have shared with the other. In two generations, Snow sowed the seeds of distrust and division into the Districts so deeply that even we, the readers, were affected by the effects of Capitol propaganda. In two generations, the Districts ceased to genuinely care about the others beyond the vague sense of injustice they feel for their shared plight. It’s why Career Districts don’t seem to care about killing the other Tributes. How can you care, to show your compassion and humanity, when you can barely see them as people? Yes, they may have been in the Arena with you. Yes, they may have been starved and beaten and forced into labor like you were. Yes, they might be children just like you. Yes, they might be subjected to the same deplorable system that turned you into virtual slaves. But they are not your friends. They are not your allies. They are strange, with different customs and traditions that you have. You do not share the same values. They do not care about you. At the first chance they get, they will kill you with your bare hands and they will do it with alacrity if it meant their survival. There can only be one Victor and it can’t be them. It has to be you.

[gogogodzilla]

peeta mellark being you to let him eat your 🐱

Just a Taste || Peeta Mellark

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, cunnilingus, porn with plot, panty sniffing, reader is wearing a dress, panty stealing masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

The stage of the training center under your heels was a familiar feeling. The stage lights shone brightly, and you squinted slightly as you walked out with Peeta hand in hand. The air practically crackled with energy as the booming applause from the audience of Capitol citizens nearly deafened you. 

Caesar Flickerman warmly welcomed both of you. He gave you a good-natured kiss on the cheek and shook Peeta’s hand. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to how touchy the Capitol people were. 

Once the crowd settled down, Caesar gave the two of you a beaming smile. “It’s an absolute delight to have the two of you here once again,” he exclaimed and you wondered how he got his teeth to be so white. “The Victory Tour has been a success, wouldn’t you say? What has been the most memorable moment for you both?” 

Peeta squeezed your hand before answering, “As much as I’ve loved spending some time in all of the districts, the most unforgettable part was spending time with the person I love and sharing our love with the districts.” 

You feigned embarrassment at his words and looked away. You couldn’t avoid the heat that flooded your cheeks, which brought a boisterous laugh from Caesar. “You two are adorable. I love it!” he gushed. 

The audience cheered in response, and Peeta kissed your knuckles. After a few moments, Caesar settled the audience down and turned back to the two of you. “I’m sure you both know that we have immensely enjoyed seeing your love blossom in front of us. It’s truly a marvelous sight.” 

“Thank you, Caesar. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to be here with you and the rest of the Capitol citizens,” you give him a dazzling smile before turning to Peeta. “I am also incredibly grateful to be here with the love of my life. I couldn’t ask for anything better,” your gaze softens as you look at Peeta. The audience ‘awws’ and cooed at the two of you while Caesar pressed a hand to his heart. 

“Ugh, we can’t get enough of you two. What does the future look like for the two of you? I’m sure we’re all eager to see more of your love blossoming,” Caesar questioned and the audience buzzed with excitement. 

You shared a glance with Peeta. You gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and he turned to Caesar. 

“The future looks bright as long as I have my love by my side,” he answered, allowing a hush to fall over the crowd. Damn, he was good at this. “And I would like to have my love by my side for as long as we both shall live,” his voice trembled slightly as he pulled out a small velvet box. He got on one knee and looked up at you. Your hand covered your mouth in feigned shock. “My love, you have been my light in the darkest times, and I can’t imagine a future where you’re with me. Will you make me the happiest man in Panem and marry me?” 

Emotions swelled within you. Peeta was laying it on a bit thick, but you didn’t care. You nodded your head, forgetting to speak for a moment. He slightly raised his brow, and you forced yourself to speak. 

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding rapidly. Your voice returned and you spoke louder, “Of course I’ll marry you.” 

Applause and cheers thundered throughout the room as Peeta got to his feet and slid the ring onto your finger. Peeta’s smile was radiant as he pulled you into a kiss which caused the audience to roar even louder. You grinned as you kissed him back. You truly did care for him, and didn’t mind being stuck with him forever. You would’ve been dead without him. 

As you pulled away, Caesar dabbed his eyes theatrically and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Peeta kept his hand around your waist as you curled up against his side.  

“Ladies and gentlemen, a proposal during the Victory Tour! This is certainly a night to remember, wouldn’t you say?” Caesar beamed as he swept an arm out toward the crowd which roared in response. 

Peeta held you close as the interview wrapped up. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and you couldn’t fight the grin that graced your features. Eventually, your time with Caesar was over and you were ushered off the stage. 

Effie met you as you exited and she clapped her hands in excitement. “Wonderful work you two. Now, time to get ready for the reception President Snow offered to throw to celebrate the two of you. It’ll be a party of the ages,” she declared, walking quickly as you returned to your quarters. 

Cinna intercepted you as you stepped off the elevator. You clung onto Peeta’s hand until the last possible second. 

Cinna grinned as he led you away, “Don’t worry, you’ll have some time to catch up before we leave.” 

“Can’t I just wear what  I have on?” you thumbed the fabric of your dress as you walked, frowning slightly. 

He chuckled, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

He led you to your room and helped you onto your podium in front of the mirror. Cinna got to work almost immediately, fluttering around you with practiced movements. The soft rustle of fabric accompanied his steps as he brought the dress over to you. He quickly got you changed, his gentle hands working wonders as the fabric draped over your body. Cinna’s hands danced delicately over your hair, weaving it into an elegant style perfect for the celebration tonight. 

“You look radiant,” Cinna complimented as he stepped back to admire his work in the mirror. 

You met his gaze in the mirror, a grateful smile on your lips, “It’s all because of you.” 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and a knock sounded at your door. You both turned and Peeta poked his head in.  A soft smile made its way onto your features as he stepped into the room and finally got a good look at you. His eyes widened as they raked over your form, and your cheeks flushed. 

“You look…” Peeta’s words faltered as his gaze remained on you. “Wow,” was all he managed to come up with as he took a few steps toward you. 

Cinna chuckled, “I’ll let you two have a moment. You have 15 minutes before Effie’s going to come knocking.” 

He gave you a suggestive look as he left, and the flush of your cheeks spread. Peeta held out his hand so he could help you down, and you graciously took it. 

You ran your fingers over his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his suit. “Portia outdid herself… You look amazing,” you grinned, tugging him closer. 

His hands wrapped around your waist, enveloping you like they had done so many times before. This time it was different though. The soft scent of his cologne engulfed you as he leaned in. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, but there was something more to it. Something hungry. 

“Is it bad that I’m glad we’re stuck together forever?” you whispered as you pulled away to catch your breath. 

He grinned, “You make marriage sound so pleasant.” 

You chuckled in response and pulled him into another, deeper kiss. You tugged him by the lapels toward your bed, acutely aware of the seconds ticking by before Effie would be knocking. 

His hands wandered across your hips as the backs of your thighs hit the edge of your bed and you slowly fell back. You parted for long enough to scoot back and Peeta eagerly followed you. His lips were back to devouring you within moments. You let out a small noise as he slotted his knee between your legs, the smooth fabric of his slacks brushing against your inner thighs. 

 You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath. Something shifted between you, and your entire body seemed to hum with need. Peeta caged your head between his forearms and his nose bumped against yours. 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” you trailed off as Peeta scattered kisses across your neck. 

He grinned against your collarbone, “I’m sure they’ll understand if I want to take a few minutes to ravish my fiancée.” 

Your cheeks flared at his words. There had been rumors going around all tour that Peeta’s nightly visits to your room were far from innocent cuddling. You did little to dispel them, though. You couldn’t deny that this was the first time you’d felt this hunger for Peeta. 

He ran his hands up the bare skin of your thighs, and your heart fluttered. 

“Just a taste,” he murmured as he scattered kisses across your covered breasts and moved down your body. “Please, my love. I just need a taste.” 

He ran his fingertips over your thighs as he situated himself between them. You craned your head to look down at him, and the sight of him had heat pooling between your legs. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes you couldn’t resist, begging for permission to ruin you. With the slight inclination of your head, he was sliding the fabric of your skirt to the side, letting his hands wander across your hips and thighs. 

He pressed featherlight kisses across your inner thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin there. He wrapped his arms around your legs, keeping them in place. His breath fanned over the thin fabric of your panties, and you instinctively clenched them together. His grip held you in place as you squirmed, aching for more. 

He hooked his fingers in the sides of your under and tugged them down and off your body. Your eyes widened as he brought your panties to his nose and inhaled your scent. He let out a noise that was something like a whimper combined with a groan, and you flushed. 

He set your panties to the side and settled between your thighs. A gasp escaped you as he swiped his tongue through your folds. His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to his eager mouth. His tongue worked relentlessly against your sopping core, circling your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance. 

You wanted desperately to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, but you settled for the blanket below you. You were sure that Peeta’s prep team might have your head if you messed up his hair. 

You slapped one hand over your mouth, muffling the desperate pleas and whines that escaped your lipstick-covered lips. Peeta eagerly lapped up everything you were giving him, and his nose bounced against your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. Peeta reached up to intertwine his fingers with yours, grounding you.

Peeta whined against you, sending vibrations coursing through you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your hips jutted against him, grinding against his tongue. Every fiber of your being was tensed and ready to snap. 

Peeta’s tongue circled your clit once more, and your release had you arching against the mattress, pushing you closer to his mouth. Your thighs attempted to clamp around Peeta’s head as you spasmed against him. He helped you to ride out your high, and his fingertips dug into the plush of your thighs. 

After a few moments you stilled, and Peeta pressed comforting kisses against your inner thighs. You lifted your head to look at him, and your cheeks flushed at the sight. Your arousal had covered the bottom half of his face, and a satisfied grin covered his features. 

“You did so good,” he praised as he crawled forward to kiss you. You tasted yourself on his lips, and a groan left you. 

You were able to sneak in a few more lingering kisses before Effie’s knock sounded at your door. Peeta crawled off of you and helped you to the edge of your bed, your skirts only slightly getting in the way. 

He grabbed your panties before you could and shoved them in the front pocket of his suit. 

“For safekeeping,” he murmured with a grin plastered across his face as he leaned down to kiss you. You scowled at him in response but kissed him nonetheless. 

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the rest of your arousal off his face before neatly tucking it back in its rightful place. You shuffled to the bathroom to clean yourself up, returning moments later looking slightly more put together. 

Effie knocked once again, more insistently this time. You cringed, sensing the inevitable lecture you’d receive later. 

Peeta held his arm out for you to take, and you gladly clung to him. 

“Shall we?”

You rolled your eyes, “Let’s get this over with.”

[ervotica]

hey babes, since we both have a raging crush on cato could u do something where a guy is harassing you and he comes to ur rescue 😍 (cliché ik but like he would be so hot doing it, we love a protective man) 

pairing: cato hadley x fem!reader

warnings: cato is possessive and hot, the district 6 boy is a jerk (idk if this is accurate to canon at all but idc sue me)

hunger games masterlist

You're watching Cato practice throwing spears with Marvel on the first day of training. You observe the way his biceps flex, pushing the veins out of his arms as he lifts the weapon over his shoulder and puts his weight behind the throw- you really do pity the ones who will be on the receiving end of him in the coming weeks.

You glance down, twisting a knife between your fingers, watching enraptured as it glides through your digits and light bounces from the metallic blade, throwing a myriad of whites and blues across the other weapons hung on the walls.

You don't hear the boy sneak up behind you, his broad hands coming to rest on your waist in a place he most definitely should not be touching; your elbow drives back into him instinctually as you spin to face him, and you pin him to the wall by your forearm. It's the boy from District 6 - Jason, you recall. He's seemed to be keeping a low profile until now, until his disdain towards Cato has seemed to reignite in a bout of fury. And, well, he has to take it out on someone.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He hums noncommittally.

"I think they call this making alliances, sweetheart," Jason says, grinning crudely. Your blood is running hot, rushing in your ears as you push against his neck with your arm and bare your teeth.

"You call me sweetheart again and I'll cut your eyes out. I don't care where we are," you spit, stepping back. "Leave me alone."

His hand bunches into the back of your t-shirt as you start to retreat and he yanks you backwards; your back hits the wall with a loud thump and you hiss, kicking out at him as he presses his chest to yours and rakes his eyes over every inch of your body.

"You don't wanna do this," you laugh, a smirk creeping onto your face that you just can't hold back as you let him hold you there and wait.

"Why's that? I don't see anyone else around," he murmurs, his face so close you can feel his hot breath. "Just you and me."

You raise your eyebrows before you're tilting your head and screaming over his shoulder.

"Cato! Cato!"

Cato's head snaps up and he thrusts the spear he was using into Marvel's hands; he's across the training room floor before you can even shriek his name again.

Jason doesn’t have time to as much as step back before Cato is behind him, chest heaving in a barely concealed fury, pale face flushed and ready for another fight. Jason is lifted seemingly out of thin air by only the back of his neck and he starts to thrash as he’s tossed across the hard training room floor.

“Are you stupid?” he seethes. “She told you to leave her alone! You’ve just sealed your fate, you’re the first one I’m coming after when we get to that arena.”

You creep up next to him, leaning coyly against Cato’s shoulder as you stare down at the District 6 boy.

“I told you. You shouldn’t have done that,” you tease. Cato's thick arm comes up and over your shoulders protectively as he holds him to the floor with his boot clad foot.

"Come on," Cato says. "We're leaving."

His grip is like iron around your hand, his knuckles white as the blood drains from them. You can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves - shoulders squared, jaw ticking.

He drags you all the way back to the tribute quarters, slamming the door closed behind the pair of you and spinning on his heel to pace the length of the room.

"Cato, c'mon," you murmur. "He's just an asshole. He can be the first one we kill in there."

"It's more than that," he groans. "Why does he think he can come and talk to you like that? That prick has overstepped more than once."

"I know." You tug him back towards you and cradle the side of his neck; he's hot, and his pulse thrums under your touch. "It doesn't matter anymore, he's a prick and we'll get rid of him."

"Okay," Cato whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against your own. You hum and push out the creases in his forehead where his brow has knit. His eyes soften at the gesture, and you smile in response, scrunching your nose as he rubs his cheek against yours. He grumbles.

"Stop being so pretty, I'm trying to focus here."

You laugh and wrap your arms fully around his shoulders and neck, reaching up on your tiptoes to slot your lips between his. His muscles, coiled tight and tense, start to relax at your touch. He presses into you, deepening the kiss, hungry for you. He's consumed by it, by the possessiveness he feels over you, by the rage that Jason laid a hand on you at all. You lose yourself in it: in his smell and his touch and how he feels against you enveloping your senses. Reluctantly, you pull away and grin at him, knuckles brushing his sharp cheekbone.

"C'mon, we gotta start making a plan for the games. I'll put Jason first on the list."

[cherryredstars]

hello cherry!!

I really love your work, and I was wondering if you could do a second part of Miguel being CEO (In the job description)

I'm very sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my first language

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Vibrators, Penetrative Sex, Mirror Sex, Slight Slapping

Summary: Don’t accept gifts from your boss…or wear it. 

A/N: I made an alternate version of this (basically part 1.5), so let me know if you guys want me to post that one!

Word Count: 3K (Not Edited)

Reverse AU Part 1 Part 1.5

It was extremely unprofessional.

That’s what you thought when Miguel passed by your desk the morning after your little… moment in his office. He gave you a fleeting smirk as he placed a medium-sized black box right in front of you. A deep blush spread across your face, unable to meet his eyes while he stared at you for a few minutes before walking away and shutting the door to his office. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach as you watched the door before sliding your eyes over the box.

It was the type of box someone would get clothes in for Christmas, only pricer and better quality. A pretty silk ribbon held the lid and bottom together, in a matching matte black color. Carefully, you pulled at one of the ends, the bow easily unraveling. When you took the ribbon off, a deeper blush spread over your body as you saw the words engraved into the cardboard. 

Stamped on the box was the name of the popular lingerie store in the shopping district. It was a store you passed by daily on your way to and from work, and a store that was most definitely out of your price range even with the gracious salary you had. Your hands instantly slapped over the words, leaning over your desk to see if anyone was coming or if Miguel was making any move to leave his office. When the coast was clear, you hesitantly sat back down. 

You cleared your throat nervously, staring at the box before giving into your curiosity. As gently as possible, you lifted the lid of the box, face slightly hiding behind it to obscure your view. An exhale leaves you as maroon tissue paper covers whatever is inside. You take another deep breath before leaning forward and lifting one flap of the tissue paper. A surprised gasp leaves you, staring at the 3 pairs of lacy underwear in the box. 

Each panty is made from lacy material, making them slightly see-through. When you run your hands over them, they’re delicate to the touch and you can tell its high quality stuff. Each one is a different color. The first is a set of white panties to replace the ones from yesterday that Miguel claims to have no idea about. The second one, a deep navy blue that is fairly similar to the navy blue of Miguel’s favorite designer suits. And lastly, a blush color that rivals the one across your cheeks. 

You’re so caught up in just marveling at the contents of the package, that you don’t realize Miguel is standing in front of your desk until he starts speaking. “I take it you like them?”

You’re instantly jolted and clumsily try to cover up the panties and close the box. You’re sure if someone saw your face, it would be a damn near perfect color match to one of those pairs of panties. You shyly look up at Miguel clearing your throat and leaning back in your chair to create more distance between the two of you. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A lazy smirk spreads against Miguel’s face before he shakes his head in amusement. “I was calling you into my office, but you didn’t seem to hear the buzzer.” He hums, eyes trained on the black box he gifted you. You can tell he’s tempted to say something by the way his mouth straightens and his brows furrow slightly, but he ends up not commenting on it and continues what he was saying before. “I was going to tell you that the charity fundraiser is this weekend, and we have to attend to meet the new potential merger.” 

His words make you want to grab the box on your desk and slam it against your head a few trillion times. It’s no secret that both you and Miguel hate the monthly fundraisers. Okay, that sounds bad. Both you and Miguel are happy that somewhere over a hundred grand gets donated to great charities, it’s just the whole business aspect of it you hate. Having to sit around with smiles that are so fake that they cause the muscles of your cheeks to ache, listening to some old CEO who is in dire need to retire spew on and on about very old fashioned beliefs, and the undercooked batches of pasta they serve at the venues are barely anything to gush about. 

Miguel can sense the discontent rolling off of you in waves, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “Do you need a dress or shoes? It’s the Unique charity this year, black-tie event as per usual.”

A heavy sigh leaves you and your finger traces the edge of the box. You mentally go through your closet, trying to remember if you have any appropriate dresses that you haven’t worn in previous years. You come up blank, an oncoming migraine forming at your temple. “I’ll figure something out.”

Miguel gives a displeased hum, knocking his fists against your desk. He leans away, fixing the sleeves of his button up and ruffling his hair. “No worries, I’ll have LYLA send you authorization for my business card and a few dress and shoes options.”

You’re about to protest, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupts you. Miguel rolls his eyes as he sees the contact, answering it and turning away as he grumbles out a greeting. He walks towards his office and turns to give you one last nod before entering. A deep sigh leaves you and you close your eyes as you lean back into your chair. You squint one eye open, eyeing the box before stuffing it in your bag with a huff.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” 

You run around your small apartment, nothing but a towel covering your body. Your hair is the only thing done, going for an easy blow drying and curling. You groan when you see the pile of laundry in your room, rummaging in your panty drawer to find nothing but a few that are in desperate need to be thrown away due to their worn out state. You’re on the verge of crying when you see the black box thrown carelessly on top of your other drawer. 

You bite your lip, nerves swallowing your being. You weren’t ever planning to wear them, I mean they’re from your boss for god’s sake! But really, you have no choice. With an annoyed groan and exhale, you grab the box and grab the navy blue pair, the color matching the color of your dress. You hastily slip them on, rushing back and forth between your bathroom and your bedroom to do your makeup and get dressed. 

By the time you finish the struggle of zipping up your dress, your phone rings with Miguel’s number. You grab your phone and your purse, answering as you slip on your heels. Miguel’s gruff voice echos as you press the speaker option and unlock your door. He grumbles that the driver is outside your house and you hum in acknowledgement as you check your bag for everything you need as you shut the door behind you after locking it. You rush down the hall and into the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait to reach the ground floor. 

Once the doors slide open, you’re speed walking to the exit and instantly spotting the sleek black car right against the curb. Miguel stands by the car door, a loud ping ringing from his phone that causes his brows to furrow. He looks up at the sound of your heels, that furrowed look still on his face as he eyes you up and down. You copy his facial expression, asking him what’s wrong. He only looks back down at his phone, dismissing whatever it was and opening the car door for you.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

You have no idea how you got here. 

The second you and Miguel entered the venue, the both of you had down a flute of champagne and gone through the agonizingly long process of greeting every current and future business partner that was present. Everything was going fine, your fake smile was yet to ache and the desserts looked promising. That was until, of course, a sharp zap ran up your spine as you felt something vibrating against you. 

You had choked on your words, trying to play it off with an abrupt sip of alcohol and a strained laugh as you conversed with some of Miguel’s business partners while he dismissed himself for a quick run to the bar. It had been sudden, maybe a trick played on you by your own mind, until it started again. But this time, it was more intense. You had hurriedly excused yourself, making up some excuse before dashing towards the bathroom. 

You rushed through the door, sighing in relief when no one else was inside. You hurried to the counter of sinks, leaning your elbows on the surface as you bent over and hissed. The vibration, that was most definitely coming from your fucking panties, just seemed to be more intense as you shifted from leg to leg and clenched your thighs to relieve the feeling. A struggling whimper left you as you lifted your head to look into the mirror, jumping when you see Miguel leaned against a bathroom stall and staring at you. You must not have heard him enter through the foggy mess in your head. 

You instantly snap up, legs crossed as you turn around and clutch the edge of the counter tightly. You open your mouth, about to scold Miguel for being in the women’s bathroom, but another desperate whine leaves you as the vibration around your clit focuses on the perfect spot from your new stance. Miguel’s brow raises as his eyes ghost down your form, catching the way sweat begins to break on your hairline. A lazy smirk crosses his face when he pulls out his phone from his dress pants, tapping around it a few times before you slouch. 

A sense of relief fills you as the strong vibrating stops and your clit is given a break. A heavy sigh leaves you, head tilting down before the realization hits you. Your head instantly snaps up, your wide eyes meeting Miguel’s mischievous ones. Of course. What else would he do but give you fucking vibrating panties. Your eyes trail down to his phone, watching as he taps it with his thumb again and suddenly the vibration is back. Your body tenses up again, and you watch helplessly as Miguel walks over to you. 

He presses his hand into the front of your dress, directly over your panties. The pressure of his hand makes the vibration stronger, and a choked gasp leaves you. Miguel hums, feeling the strong vibrations through your dress, his eyes moving to your face. “I didn’t think you’d ever wear ‘em.”

That makes two of us, You think as your eyes squint into a glare, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a noise threatening to spill out. Your hands come up to hold onto Miguel’s wrist, trying weakly to take his hand away. He only chuckles, pressing his hand harder against you before taking it away. Your hands fall from him, insead returning to grip on the counter when he turns you around quickly. A wave of deja vu hits you when he presses down on your lower back so your chest is fully pressed, his hands hurriedly gathering your dress so the surplus of fabric bunches around your waist. 

His hand skims the center of your underwear, two fingers pressing against your clothed clit. A moan leaves you as the vibrations grow stronger under his fingers, your hips squirming to get away. Miguel’s hand tightens around your waist, making it harder for you to move. He watches you from the mirror, enjoying the concentrated and tortured look on your face. 

“You know,” Miguel starts lazily, fingers starting to draw slow circles on your clit, “You never answered my question before.” A loud gasp leaves you and you hiss out his name after his hand comes to give your clit a firm slap. “Do you like my gift?”

A weak sound leaves you as you bite your lip. Your hips try to press into Miguel’s hand when he starts his slow circles again, crying out when he removes his hand completely. You hear the rustling of a belt buckle and pants, your gasp in sync with the hiss Miguel lets out when he presses the head of his cock into your panties. The vibrations play against his head, his hand holding his base as he rubs himself up and down the length of your panties. His eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he enjoys the feel of your increasingly wet panties and the vibrating. 

His hand pushes your panties to the side, his cock falling forward to poke at your glistening entrance. Even though the vibrating panties aren’t directly over your clit, you can still feel them from their place right besides it. Your own eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel before Miguel’s hand grasps your face from behind. His large hand squishes your cheeks together and your eyes flutter open to see his face right besides yours in the mirror. Both Miguel’s and your eyes meet in the mirror, his demanding while yours are hazy. 

His tip slightly slides into you and you groan. Miguel’s hold tightens on your face when he pulls out. “Answer the question, preciosa.”

A weak nod leaves you, a puff of air escaping your nose as you lean your hips back to grind slightly against Miguel’s cock. A strangled grunt leaves him and His eyes fall down to where you’re grinding before looking back at you. His breath is hot against your cheek, causing shivers down your spine. “Don’t look away. Just watch.”

Without warning, he slams into you. A loud scream leaves you, eyes threatening to roll back as you watch him. His eyes are dark and focused on where he thrusts brutally into you, your body sliding closer to the mirror before he pulls you back towards him. You make a weak attempt to talk, stuttering out something about the door before he grunts and replies it’s locked. It does little to conceal your worries. As if sensing it, Miguel’s hand slides up to your mouth to cover it, muffling the noises you’re letting out. 

The only sounds that can’t be muffled are the soft, wet sounds that come from his heavy balls hitting against your wet heat. You’re so wet that you’re coating him, a stickiness connecting his balls to your cunt as he thrusts. Your eyes roll back and a harsh slap is thrown against your cheek. Unfocused eyes meet Miguel’s angered ones, his thrusts turning harsher and more punishing as he looks at you disapprovingly.

“I told you to watch. Keep your eyes on the mirror or I'll stop.”

A sound of protest leaves you, mumbling out sorry repeatedly as you try to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. The view is shaking from the way your body jolts with each pump of his hips, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him go faster and try to see how shaky he can make your vision and your legs. His hand gives you one more smack to the cheek before covering your mouth again. 

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out and that hotness is forming at the bottom of your stomach. Miguel’s is fast approaching too, the sensation of your tight, warm walls sucking him in and the slight vibrations running through your walls from the vibrating panties. His hand leaves your hip, moving in between your legs and moving the shaking fabric back over your clit. The angle is awkward, trying to find it under layers of falling fabric from your dress while he’s hammering his cock into you. But eventually he gets it, and you instantly fall apart. 

Your scream is muffled by Migue’s hand, your body shaking as you clench tightly around him and gush all over his cock. Miguel lets out a curse, his thrusts stuttering and becoming clumsy. You call out his name weakly, and he’s gone. He stills with a deep groan, filling you up with his warmth. You both stand there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure before you start suffering from overstimulation from the still vibrating underwear. 

You weakly cry out to Miguel, who hurriedly turns on his phone and kills the vibrating. A deep, grateful sigh leaves you as you slump forward. A small moan leaves you when Miguel pulls out, reaching up to the tissue paper dispensers to wipe you and him down. He rebuckles his pants, pulling your panties back in place and your dress down. You flinch when the drenched fabric meets you, half expecting for it to start vibrating again. Instead, another piece of paper tissue is dabbed against your face and neck as Miguel tries to rid your skin of sweat without fully removing your makeup. 

A grateful noise leaves you before you stand up when Miguel steps back. When you turn your head towards him, a soft kiss is pressed to your cheek. Miguel strokes the spot with his thumb, eyes trailing to yours before he looks away and moves towards the door. 

“Not going to steal my panties this time?” You can’t help but call out, hands still gripping the edge of the sinks tightly.

Miguel turns with a teasing smile and shrugs. “Nah, you can keep them this time. Just make sure to wear one of the other pairs to work on Monday.”

A deep flush flows across your face at his innuendo, watching as he unlocks the door and slips out. A deep sigh leaves you as you turn towards the mirror again, an annoyed noise leaving you as you spot imperfections in your makeup. You open your bag, working on small touch-ups as you think back to what occurred a few minutes ago. A small smile crosses your face and you shake your head before you head to follow Miguel back out for another hour of socializing.

Just benefits of the job.

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[fanfictiongirlie]

The Hunger Games: His Games Chapter Four

Parings: Marvel x Female OC

Description:

The Hunger Games, (Katniss' Hunger Games) from the perspective of Marvel's girlfriend.. Whom is a previous winner of the games, but something is happening in the Capitol, something secret, something that could change the lives of the Career Tributes.

Rating: Teen and up Audiences

Warnings: Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Death, Alcohol Abuse

Overall Words:  7,385

The next two days were exhausting and long. They were painful, emotionally for me, and physically for the tributes. Gloss had been working with Glimmer, and I worked with Marvel. 

Gloss had been showing Glimmer how to shoot the bow and arrow correctly, without missing. He also got her to do some weight lifting too. 

Marvel let me show him out to build a trap, knowing him he will not use them, but it made me feel happier that he knew. We also went over different types of berries, and things you can and can't eat. I told him, never to make a fire, no matter how cold he was. Grab a blanket instead. 

And once the physical training was over, we had to train them for camera. Glimmer and Marvel had to know how to act, no swearing or acting stupidly, the entire District was watching and wouldn't be happy if they looked bad.

Marvel was first to be interviewed. He walked onto stage with a confidant dementor. It made all the women in the crowd cheer and scream, I rolled my eyes. 

"Our first tribute, Marvel!" Caesar Flickerman cheers. Marvel sat down with him after they shook hands. 

"Marvel, Marvel aren't you a strapping young lad, are you confidant?" Caesar asked. 

Marvel smirked and winked to the audience. 

"You could say that" 

He asked Marvel a few questions about District One, and then the question all the boys get.. 

"Have you got a lady at home, waiting for you to win?

Marvel chuckled and his cheeks blushed for a split second. He suddenly looked nervous. 

"I'm not sure if I can say" Marvel grins, looking in my direction. I nod slightly, to give Marvel the okay. It wouldn't hurt everyone knowing, I was just hoping it wouldn't impact his popularity in the game. 

"Come on" Caesar laughed, the audience all joined in, practically begging for Marvel to answer. 

Marvel chuckled. 

"I actually have a fiancée" He finally answered. That made my breathe caught, I still had the ring on that he gave me, but he said it was a promise ring. I felt myself smiling like a goof, I loved him so much.. 

"Her name Is Rosalind, she's a victor from my District" Marvel explained, Caesar had a pretended shocked look on his face. 

"Wow how wonderful, that's all the time we have for Marvel!" Caesar cheered and Marvel bowed a few times before walking off stage, he ran right into my arms, picking me up and spinning me.

"I hope that was okay?" He asked, kissing my cheeks over and over again. 

"It was fine" I smiled, Glimmer had walked onto stage now, in her gorgeous dress, she looked like a star. Gloss stayed with Glimmer, so I walked back to the floor with Marvel.

"Marvel, tonight I want you to stay with me" I whisper, holding on tightly to his arm. He nodded. This could be our last night together. 

He kept telling me over and over he would win for me, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe him so bad. But all I felt was hopelessness.  That sinking feeling was consuming me again. 

We laid together, legs wrapped around one another's, arms tightly secured around each other, and our forehead's resting together, our eyes shut, breathing. I don't think either of us wanted to talk. What would we even say? 

"I love you" I whisper once I realised Marvel was asleep. "I'll always love you"

__________________________________

I woke Marvel up early, maybe too early? He was thankful for it regardless. We spent the morning alone in the dining room, eating our breakfast quietly. 

"I am going to win for you, my darling" Marvel smiles, reaching down for my hand, he brings it up to his lips and kisses my knuckles. 

"Just, try to stay you" I say, he nods, understanding. 

Soon, Gloss and Glimmer join us, and we leave for the games. We take them to a jet carrier which will take the tributes to the arena. This is where we said goodbye. Despite all the other victors and tributes being here, Marvel pulls me into a tight hug. 

"I love you" He whispers into my ears. I nod, and kiss his cheeks, I wasn't sure if my voice was going to work if I tried to used it. 

"Let's go tributes!" A gamekeeper yells. Marvel pulls away from me and steps into the carrier with one last look at me and blows a kiss.. Gloss took my hand and we left, we could now go to our very own security room. The room was wired so cameras would always be on our two tributes. We could also control their sponsor gifts from here too. 

Gloss and I got comfortable, it would be a while before the cameras were up..

___________________

Soon the canons boomed, and it was carnage. I watched Glimmer and Marvel run with the two from District 2. They had teamed up, and were killing left right and centre. 

I watched Marvel kill... I think watching that was worse than me killing someone. 

Soon the cameras were quiet, everyone had dispersed, besides Districts 1 and 2. They had the Cornucopia. 

Gloss smirked at me, thinking he was so smart because he was right this time. I rolled my eyes, it doesn't matter if I was right or not. Basic survival skills were always handy. 

"Look they've build a fire?" Gloss said, almost startled. 

"Yes, but they have all the weapons, no one would be stupid enough?" I answer. 

Marvel and the other boy; Cato I think, were building up the food supplies inside the Cornucopia, and the weapons were hidden in different boxes.  They had a boy with them, from District 3 I believe. He was, doing something to the mines around their camp. 

I knew I was crying, I could feel the tears slipping from my eyes, and falling down my cheeks. I couldn't stop them anymore, Gloss didn't comment on them. But he left when it was night to sleep in his quarters and he would come back with food for me, he would sit with me for a little while and watch the cameras. But after a few hours he would leave, probably chatting up the people of the Capitol for sponsors. 

And I...

I stayed in camera room, sleeping only when Marvel did, and even then, I woke before he did. I maybe slept for an hour a night? I was so on edge. I could barely concentrate. 

They were two days into the games, and they had lost so many tributes. Marvel and Cato kept bumping heads, and Glimmer was all over Cato, and Clove, well Clove honestly scared me. She was small, and deadly. 

It was so unpredictable what could happen...

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

Something fitting about District One naming their children after 'Luxuries.'

Gloss. Cashmere. Glimmer. Velvereen. Marvel.

Power and Luxury.

Their children are just another commodity to sell.

[lqveharrington]

Bugs and Creatures | C.S.

summary: although you lived in district 12 your entire life, you were deathly terrified of bugs

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: fluff, entomophobia, coryo being slightly possessive

a/n: i actually have never written for buzzcut/peacekeeper coryo

You met Coriolanus Snow through the one and only Lucy Gray Baird. You had just gotten off stage after performing with Maude Ivory when she approached you with a peacekeeper in tow. At first, you were puzzled and a little uncomfortable by his presence before you realized that he was the one who helped Lucy Gray win the Hunger Games.

After realizing this — and a couple of shots — the both of you found yourselves a little too cozy in the small garage the Covey would spend their time in between sets. This then became a new thing between you two before you officially began seeing each other.

To you, Coriolanus was the sweetest and most overprotective person. To others, he was just a peacekeeper or someone who could hurt them with a talk with his general. You never did care about what they thought. You only cared about him. Well, that and him being able to fend off any insects coming your way.

“You do know that I know where we’re going right?” You laugh when Coriolanus covered your eyes. He asked you to tell him where the trail was toward the lake before covering your eyes, although poorly as you could still see the light passing through his fingers.

“I do,” He elongated the word and carefully guided you over the twigs and branches that scattered the floor. He lifted you up and over a fallen log, trusting you closed your eyes. “But, there’s a surprise waiting for you down there.”

You pursed your lips in amusement, “And you forgot the way over there already?”

“To be fair, Maude Ivory lead me there this morning.”

You let a laugh spill from your lips at the thought of him coming up to the house just to find the way to the lake house. He gently nudged you forward and continued the long trek.

Coriolanus kept you entertained with stories from the Capitol and surprise kisses anywhere he could. By the time you made it to the lake house, the sun was beginning its descent down. You could feel the sun’s rays hitting your skin before Coriolanus removed his hands to reveal the small picnic he set up earlier.

“All this for little ol’ me?” You put your hands on your hips and smile up at him.

Truly, the set up was gorgeous. There was a plaid blanket underneath a willow tree with small pillows and quilted blankets. On a small tray was so many different fruits that you didn’t expect to find in District 12, along with biscuits you never knew could look so delicious.

Coriolanus pulled you in by the curve of your waist and tilted your chin up with his thumb and pointer. “Little ol’ you deserves the world.”

He kissed your lips softly before pulling away and nudging you gently toward the picnic, guiding you toward the food and blankets.

You had a marvelous time. You and Coriolanus took more time to get to know one another, getting to know each and every secret and crevice unknown. He told you how peacekeeping was going and you told him how the Covey was doing, although you truly only played whenever Maude Ivory and Tam got on stage.

“Oh, come on, you have such a beautiful voice.” Coriolanus tucked a piece of strand hair behind your ear and played with its end. “And an even more beautiful face.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before bursting out laughing when he tackled you with tickles. His fingers were feathery across your stomach and only when you began gasping from breaths did he stop.

“Not fair.” You giggle softly as your chest rises and falls from slight exhaustion.

He sent you a cheeky smile before squinting his eyes. Coriolanus’ amusement slowly tampered down and he carefully sat up, keeping his eyes trained on the top of your head.

You sent him a quizzical look, “What?”

He pursed his lips and moved his hand over your head and flicking. Your eyes widened and realization and quickly scrambled out of your spot and behind Coriolanus.

“Did you get it off me?” You clung onto his shoulders in fright as you messed with your hair.

Coriolanus whipped his head around and grabbed your wrists tightly, making you look into his eyes. He slowly breathed and watched you match his breathing before letting go of you, resting his forehead on yours. He listened to your breathing for a second before speaking softly.

“You’re okay.” He murmured and ran his hands up and down your arms. “I didn’t let it touch you.”

Would Coriolanus ever admit that a spider was about to land on your head? No. Would he ever admit that it was a spider and not just a random insect? Absolutely not. You were terrified just from his motion, imagine the mention of any type of bug.

You nodded and sent him a sheepish smile, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out over such a small thing.”

He shrugged, “At least it wasn’t like last time.”

You felt your face warm up at the thought of last time. How you quite literally climbed on Coriolanus back and held a frying pan out toward a centipede on the counter of the Covey’s home. It was a mess by the time the rest of the Covey came home.

“Don’t worry.” He kissed your temple. “I’ll be here for a long time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah?” You pull away slightly and scrunch your nose.

“And you’re never allowed to ever leave me either.” Coriolanus spoke, almost demanding but you never noted that. “Promise?”

You kiss his lips, “As long as you kill every bug in existence that comes into my vicinity.”

He hummed and maneuvered you over his lap, grabbing your chin. “I think I can manage that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter fourteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus Snow, Dr. Gaul, elitism | lmk if I forgot something

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 mistakes are made, apologies are given

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 chapter fourteen!!! Let's go baby <33 remember to give me your feedback

beta read by my 💘 @nowitsmissing

masterlist | navigation

The rest of the day was dull. Nothing new had happened in the games. Coriolanus made his way to his home. Tonight was the night of the gala. Tigris had informed that she had finished making his suit but didn't show him how it was. It was a surprise. All he knew was that it was approved by you.

He reached his penthouse. He is greeted by Tigris with a hug and a smile. Coriolanus smiles back at his cousin for good measure. Trying to hide his nervousness about attending this prestigious gala that could make or break Snow's reputation.

Tigris excitedly shows him the red tux she had designed for him. Coriolanus wears the suit, and can't take his eyes off himself in the mirror. He looked good, there's no doubt about it.

His cousin has magic in her eyes. He tells her so and watches her eyes brighten up. “Oh, Coryo,” she said, lovingly, “It's because it's you that it looks so good.” Snow doesn't argue.

“And what about her?” He asked, “Did you make her dress the same as mine?” Tigris won't even let him see the designs. He can only imagine his heart would stop beating when he sees you. He wondered if Tigris was fine with that.

“You'll know when you see her,” Tigris giggled.

He sighs in response.

Tigris also adds, “She's the reason we still have this place, Coryo. Be kind to her.”

Coriolanus furrows his eyes. What did Tigris mean? “What?” He asked, his tone sharp. Snow didn't need pity money. And you being the one giving him dollars was salt in the wound.

“The payment for the dresses…” Tigris begins to explain, “It's enough for this month's taxes and a few weeks of food.” Coriolanus' mouth dries, he had completely forgotten about the eviction note. With everything going on, he supposed that it was natural. But Tigris had taken the burden herself while he was no help.

“I am glad,” he mutters, feeling heavily indebted to you. He didn't like the feeling. He lets it linger in the corner of his mind. He says goodbye to grandma’am and Tigris. Then he was on his way to the presidential mansion. You had said that you'd meet him there.

He reaches the presidential mansion. The press surrounded the area with cameras. He swallows as he realizes every moment of his is being broadcast live. Much like when he was in the cage with Lucy Gray. He doesn't let the flashes bother him. He already knew his outfit would be the talk of the show and it was a great opportunity to let Tigris's name out there.

He feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around. That's it. He's dead. His heartbeat stopped. He forgot how to breathe.

There's no other way to explain his reaction to you.

His sun and moon. You looked marvelous. Enough so that his breath was knocked out of his chest. How did people speak again?

“Hello,” he gasps out, his cheeks burning. He ignored the urge to trace his soulmate's scar. He looks away from you, unable to meet your eyes. Too pretty. Too fucking pretty.

“Hi, Coryo,” you said, wrapping your arm around his. You both walk up to the stairs of the mansion. “Is everything alright?” You asked, a bit worried as he wasn't meeting your eyes.

“Fine,” he mutters.

You hum in response, turning back to the cameras. All waves and smiles. He forgets to do the same as he has eyes on you. He watches you like a lovesick puppy. Until it's time to enter the gala.

He doesn't let his anxious thoughts take over. He counts his breaths as he walks into the mansion. The gala was filled with people. Even higher-up district officials were invited. Several army officers with high standings and even the peacekeeper heads of each district were attending. There were also his classmates.

Clemensia Dovecote. Festus Creed.

They were all present. He could see the Plinth couple, but their son was missing. Quite the idiot to miss this opportunity. More for him, he supposed. He leaves you behind to greet his friends.

“Clemmie,” he grins.

“Well, hello, Coriolanus. It's nice to see your family finally has an invitation. It was about time,” she smiles.

Coriolanus doesn't correct her assumption. He doesn't tell her that he is here as your date. He didn't deem it necessary.

“Did you bring a date?” Festus Creed asked.

Coriolanus shrugged and said your name, he also added, “Well, she was available.” Festus raised an eyebrow at Coryo’s dismissive tone.

“What about the kiss in the auditorium? Several hearts were broken, Coriolanus,” Clemmie jokes.

Coryo bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to say something. But the fact you're District was surely fresh in his classmates’ minds. Telling them you're something to him wouldn't be much help with his goal for the gala. So, he shrugged, “Ah… well, we're all foolish sometimes.”

His classmates let it go. And he was glad.

Coriolanus seemed to completely forget about you as Clemmie and Festus introduced him to several elitists of the Capitol. People he can never meet through simple means. Coriolanus greets them, making small talk. Every time he mentions Lucy Gray, they're impressed. Even more so when they realize he's the reason that they can make such a contribution to the games.

In the conversation, Dr. Gaul joins. “Hello, Mr. Snow,” she greets him. She turns to the circle he was chatting up. The people were both in awe and afraid of Dr. Gaul. Just like him. She easily takes control of the conversation. Coriolanus does what he does best. Let the conversation flow in the favor of Dr. Gaul. He adds to the glory of the games and how it is necessary. He thanks the elitists for their funding.

From the gleam of approval in Dr. Gauls' eyes, Coriolanus felt proud like he never had before.

He wants to tell you about this immediately! He wanted you to be proud of him too. He had acquired several business cards by now. He had made an impression on everyone he talked to. If he won the Hunger Games, he wouldn't have to worry about university. After tonight, he won't have to worry after university is over either.

It was all because of you.

He feels dread in his mind when he can't see you anywhere on the floor. He finishes his drink, and excuses himself cordially from the conversation. He searches for you before he notices the stairwell leading to the roof. He decided to take the chance of finding you there.

He turned out to be lucky.

He finds you near the metal rails. You were leaning forward, your body facing the city lights. You looked like a part of the city view. He knew he had messed up as he walked closer to you. He left you alone the moment he could. A date wasn't supposed to do that. He knew that! But he was sure you would be understanding. He needed to take advantage of this night.

That's why you brought him here, right?

“Dove,” he said, taking your attention away from the view of the bustling nightlife.

“I see you're making connections, pup.”

“Pup?” he questioned, his tone turning wary.

“Of course, a pup. A pet wagging its tail to an owner who doesn't give a shit. Dr. Gaul, she treats you like an obedient dog baiting you with treats. For her you're disposable, a dog to put down when you'll bite her hand. And here you are in the gala I bought you too, kissing her ass in front of everyone as if they can't see through her bullshit.” You take a deep breath, trying to control yourself, “She sent you to death a day before, Coriolanus! If you're gonna continue to kiss her ass like a mindless pup wanting treats, by all means go ahead.”

Coriolanus takes a deep breath despite the fact he was offended; he didn't wanna fight with you. Coriolanus opens his mouth- he's interrupted by you before he can even begin speaking. You turned to face him. Your eyes glaring at him with anger.

“Not only that! You’re not disposable, Coryo. And I hate how people treat you that way. I am the only one who thinks that way. I am the one you left behind. You ran to Clemmie the moment you saw her and did you know what Festus Creed said to me? He said that I am here as your date and it's because I was available!”

“I have done so many things for you! From rigging the assignment of tributes to proposing the destruction of District thirteen. I have damned my morals for you! I would burn the world for you. And all I get is… this! It's fucking not worth it.”

You don't let Coriolanus speak a word. You tried to walk past him in a hurry but Coryo held your arm and pulled you back. He effortlessly pushes you onto the railing and traps you in.

“Don't talk to me that way,” Coriolanus said, his eyes blazing, his mind confused and his tone dark. “I know what I did was wrong. You should be understanding. What I am doing is for my future. I don't have the time to waste this night like you.” He doesn't bring up the mention of you rigging the tributes nor the nonsense of district thirteen. He will settle this first.

He continues, “What I was doing, it was to be expected. This was too good of an opportunity to let go of. Don't act stupid, dove. Act rationally.”

You scoff at his face and he feels his anger increasing. “Rationally? If you were rational, you would have waited for me to introduce you to the people. Do you know the power I carry, Coriolanus? Yet because of your prejudice against my background, you didn't use me to your advantage. I served myself to you on a silver platter and you left me to rot. Don't talk to me about rationality, love.”

“It's not because of your-” Coriolanus shuts his mouth when he sees tears falling down your cheeks. “Real or not?”

“Don't talk to me if you have to ask,” you sob.

He pulls you in his arms. He cages you, letting you ruin the suit with your tears. Due to the deep red fabric, the tear stains wouldn't be obvious. “I am sorry,” he whispered, genuinely.

He remembered your former words.

‘It's fucking not worth it.’

He tightened his hold around you, imprisoning you. He can't believe he messed this up this bad. The worst is it was his fault. He runs a hand through your hair, trying to calm you down. He whispers sweet nothings and apologies until the rise of your chest is steady.

“It's true. I have held prejudice against your background,” it felt wrong to admit this out loud. Coriolanus repeats, “I am sorry, dove.”

“You haven't been district for a long time and it's wrong for me to hold it against you. You're Capitol, not by blood but by deeds. It's more than enough.”

You pulled back, away from his arms. He mourns the loss in his mind, he wants to pull you in again immediately. You wipe your tears away. “I'll forgive you if you publicize our romance today.”

His eyes widened in shock. He wants to yell no! But then he remembered, ‘It's fucking not worth it.’ He takes a shaky breath, steeling his mind. He can't eat his words now. “Fine, sweetheart. You can tell the public Coriolanus Snow is yours and that you are mine.”

The smile you give him reminds him of a fox. He vaguely feels like he has fallen into a trap he can't get out of. Webs after web, he can't even imagine. He shakes himself clear of these thoughts.

You held out your hand, “Then come on Coriolanus Snow, my partner let me introduce you to some people who will like you very very much.”

He takes it. In his mind, he knows he has to ask you about the rigging and about the district that ruined his life.

He dreads it.

NEXT PART

[clatoera]

☕️ The Career mentality / psyche.

Thank you

Okay so. As the resident careers enthusiast/apologist this is going to take me a minute. 

I’m going to talk about the careers as a whole then 1 vs 2 because I think it’s a little different even between districts. I’m just sticking with my big two career babies (1 and 2) though this is not D4 erasure. I just..feel very strongly about 1 and 2 and D4 has lots of fans. 

Alright. So. 

Overall Career Mentality. We know that the careers train (illegally, but I disregard that when writing LOL), and that there is great pride associated with winning. We know they get endless money and presents and gifts raining on them, but we also know that it’s a gift to the district to have a winner. I believe the winner’s districts get some sort of gift overall, which the career districts don’t need, but I am sure they don’t oppose it. They are raised with this idea that winning the games is the greatest of all things. It is the greatest pride, the greatest honor, and I’m sure the current victors are flaunted in their faces, right? They have the best houses, the best lives (that they know of), I'm sure the past victors make appearances at training like “look how good you could have it one day”. These districts are under the thumb of the capitol, and what they are shown is very tailored to that. I think there's some general similarities. For example, neither of these districts have starving kids. That being said, I think they approach the way they feed their kids differently. I think in one it’s about being strong but maintaining the ideal beauty standard for Panem (however that looks), or maybe even about how to maintain the most teenage physique (disgusting, i know, but I don’t put it past them). In two I think they bulked them up with a TON of protein, but made sure they were still like…desirable? They wanted them to be muscular and nothing more. Think plain chicken, rice, and green beans, imagine they’re fed the gym bro meal prep diet. Neither 1 nor 2 is starved, but they aren’t allowed to enjoy food. They don’t get to like..hangout with friends either. I think their peers are purposefully placed to drive them into competition and surround them only with the best in their district, and push each other to better performance. I know, these are two specific examples but..they’re ones I feel strongly about. 

That being said, no matter which district, those are kids who were shown a very skewed reality to essentially brainwash them into this. No kids are ACTUALLY volunteering to be slaughtered, they believe they’re the best, yes, but they have to be shown a really twisted/convoluted reality to think it's a thing they’d want to do (especially when you consider the reality of what victors go through). But also, compared to what else these kids could be doing with their lives, yeah, it makes sense that volunteering with the expectation to live a life of luxury is better than the alternative.

We’ll start with one. 

You wouldn’t think at first that in one they would need to volunteer for such luxuries, considering that's what their district specializes in. That being said, if you show these kids the kind of GREAT things they could have, of course they’ll go after them. We still do it, flaunting luxury and designer and free trips in the face of teenagers and tell them what they have to do to achieve it. I think the way one went about volunteering and training was very different. I think they certainly were trained physically, but I think there’s a lot of like…social training. Learning how to manipulate an audience, Learning how to smile pretty, and how to use the assets you are born with. Kids in one probably aren’t allowed to volunteer if they don’t have charisma, charm, and the look. You know the look. The Glimmer, Gloss, Cashmere, look. While of course they’re trained in combat, they are trained in manipulation. How to interview and lead the interview the way you want it to go. How to draw in sponsors. Everyone probably has a tactic they’re “assigned” (by assigned I mean I think they naturally have something to exploit), and thats what they’re trained in. Glimmer is trained to be a ditzy, pretty blonde girl. She’s still a trained killer. She is still a career. However I imagine thats her assigned “role”. I don’t think she’s a dumb girl by any means, I think that was a calculated way to present herself. In the book she is in a see through dress at like 16/17. The district one careers are trained not only in the art of being a career but in being a great, ideal victor. I..think the kids in one are allowed to go based on who (obviously can fight) but will be the most desired, ideal victor. That's how you end up with the Glosses, the Glimmers, The Cashmeres. Lethal but beautiful, charismatic, charming. I think theres something so inexplicably fucked up about it, the fact that they probably look at the pool of 9-12 year olds and decide hmmm this one has potential. I personally think district one ends up with the highest rate of sexual abuse of the victors. I imagine that career training in one involves interviews and seeing how they look in different clothes, essentially camera testing, head shots, all of that. I think winning in one of course is an honor and brings immense pride, but I think it’s about becoming a celebrity of sorts?  They have no idea what the immense beauty they are rated on will lead to. They have no idea what kind of horrors they’ll face. They see the opportunity to be famous, I believe, and that's how in D1 it works. Winning is great, but the attention and praise and the GORGEOUS GORGEOUS homes and luxuries and celebrity status is what matters. Think of the alternative though, in terms of luxury? Are they going to raise these kids up and be like you are gorgeous now go work in leather making. Go work in the diamond mine. Go work in the Jewelry store full of things you cannot afford. “Go in the games, or waste all that beauty and grace and charm” is probably the vibe in one, so of course the best of the best want to go into the games. It feels manipulative to these kids, to tell them that they’ll waste all that potential, if they don’t train to win the games, when you consider what happens to them after. “Win because otherwise the capitol cannot benefit off your beautiful young body.” And again..it’s gross to imagine how they look at the kids and decide who is pretty enough/the best fit. It probably even changes as they get older. They hit puberty and suddenly all of a sudden sorry I think A is our best option now Not you B.  It’s sad. It’s manipulative. It’s disgusting.

Now for two. 

Two I think is the polar opposite. They win for the glory of winning, for being the strongest, the best, the most vicious and violent tributes. This comes with the environment of two, which is WEAPONRY and Peacekeepers. They turn their kids into weapons, ideal weapons. Think about Enobaria and Brutus vs Gloss and Cashmere, the way they hold themselves is so different during the Quell reaping. Cashmere and Gloss are smiling, Brutus and Enobaria are like..they have these TERRIFYING expressions. Take that even down to Cato/Clove vs Marvel/Glimmer. Marvel and Glimmer notably smile during their interviews, but Cato and Clove are COCKY. They’re smirking, they aren’t all smiles and waves. They’re lethal and they know it. But back to the district itself. By training those kids to be violent and vicious and under the guise of “the capitol is SO great,” they effectively are ensuring really loyal, great peace keepers. If only 2 kids a year get to go to the games, that makes dozens that are now highly trained, brutal, ready to kill and maim, that are perfectly equipped to become peacekeepers. The capitol knows that so of course they’re like yes D2 perfect little district! I think winning the games is a way to escape a relatively hard life of peacekeeping or working on weaponry. It’s not cushy in 2 like it is in one.  I think tribute selection in 2 is FAR more on skill and willingness to be this brutal, bloody career. That's the image they WANT for District 2. They’re so good at making weapons even their victors are a weapon, you know? However, in terms of getting a little controversial, I think there’s also a blatant parallelism to nationalism and recruiting poor kids into the army. Pride yourself on this district, what an honor it would be to DIE for your district. Win to bring PRIDE to your district. Sound familiar? I’m not saying the kids in the academies of 2 are from poor families, no. But I think that would be a great way for them to see a way to escape and pull their family out of tough times, don’t you? A promise of escape and glory..a promise of pride and honor…there may even be a sense of duty there, don’t you think? That feels very intentional, to me, on Suzanne Collin’s part to make the best tributes from the capitol’s most loyal district …the district of the military and weaponry and law enforcement. I do think the life of a victor in 2 doesn’t stop there. I think they continue to act as trainers, making tribute selection, like once they’re in they’re IN. This is their whole life. They will be holding classes, they will be mentoring. Winning in D2 is a whole way of life, not just something that leads to glory and then they get to go about their lives. It goes with that militant mindset.

And again. I don’t think this is a normal thing for kids to think these things. LIke..theres some serious brain washing involved. It’s not normal to raise these kids as weapons. 

I believe the careers are still normal kids.  LIke they have families (most of them), they’ve got crushes, they’ve got birthdays, they’ve got favorite things, they’ve got things they dislike.

While I can explain why I think they are the way they are…I think they’re products of their environments. Without the glory hanging over them, I think they’d just be normal kids. They just are normal kids.

The careers were NEVER the enemy. They were not the true antagonists. They’re kids, who are convinced they want this by the situation they are born into, they are told this is the ultimate honor and success. 

We tell kids these things even today. That this career is the best thing you could do, what an honor it would be. 

I empathize with these kids. I think I share some of the same psyche. I’m an oldest child, the only person in my family to ever go to med school, I am the best at everything i’ve ever done, or else I wasn’t going to do it. There was never a choice but to be the best. To be at the top. I won’t do something unless i’m guaranteed to succeed or be the best. It’s not healthy and it’s not really okay but it’s how I think and who I am. There’s no limits on what it takes to succeed, and I think thats very much how they were raised.

Okay.

Careers apologist 4ever.