#the hunger games drabbles

[voiddaisy]

i have this little idea in my head that whenever the victors talk to each other, and one asks how the other is doing, and the answer is really ‘not good at all,’ they instead say, “oh, you know. life of a victor.” and EVERYBODY just understands that means they are crashing and burning but there is nothing that can be done about it, so they just reply and agree, “life of a victor.” and for some reason, that solidarity of just understanding what each other is going through means so much to me.

[ervotica]

“shhh, shhh..I know, I know..” with finnick pls 🥺

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: this takes place after the poison fog, r is badly injured and finnick takes care of her

hunger games masterlist

You twitch against Finnick’s chest in the tall grass, rough like sandpaper against your wounded face. You’re covered head to toe in blisters from the fog, eyes half lidded as you begin to lose consciousness from the pain.

Katniss’ strangled wail is muffled and far away in your ears and you barely register the words.

“The water! The water helps.”

You drag yourself from where you’ve collapsed on top of your fiancé; crawling along on your elbows, you make it a couple of feet at most before you’re exhausted; your entire body is burning, skin raw, every little touch flaring up every nerve ending inside of you.

There’s a rustling next to you as Finnick is lifted and dragged to the shallow pool of water a few feet away; there’s a splash and a gurgled scream as Katniss and Peeta start to clean his blistered skin.

“Finnick,” you gasp, your concern for him overriding the searing pain for a split second. “Finn,” you croak again, eyes heavy.

It’s quiet for a minute, the only sound the whispering of leaves brushing against each other. All the while you lay face down, trying to peel your eyes open where they feel like they’ve been superglued shut.

Thick fingers pull at your jaw and your head turns; your neck is stiff and the touch feels like the lick of a flame against your bulging wounds.

“C’mon,” It’s Peeta. “Gotta get you to the water.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got her,” comes Finnick’s voice and his hands pull you up by the armpits. You hiss and squirm away from his hold, the skin on skin contact causing too much pain.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” He speaks in that soft voice you love, the one reserved just for you. “It’ll feel better soon.”

He lowers you into the water and you scream. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, white-hot and scalding. It’s like you’re bleeding from every pore.

“Shhh, shhh… I know, I know.” He winces as the blisters start to lodge free from your skin and you relax, sagging in his arms.

“‘S better,” you slur. Your eyes snap open as you grapple for purchase against Finnick’s neck; your thumb rubs circles into his cheek. “You’re okay? You’re sure you’re okay?”

He laughs, incredulous that even at a time like this, he’s where your worries lie. Pointed teeth glare back at you as you thumb at his bottom lip and smile.

“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”

“I feel better. I’m okay now.”

His muscular arms engulf you, wrapping around your waist now it’s finally safe to touch you again.

[ficmenrhot]

Possession and Jealousy /drabble/

TW: slightly suggestive content, hickeys, possessive and jealous behaviours

A/N: OMG thanks everyone for the love on my last posts, maybe getting back into writing was the right thing to do :)

This is not smut BUT let’s talk about how possessive and jealous of a man Finnick Odair can be. Finnick Odair who can’t stand it when your attention is on another man for too long, even if that’s just you listening attentively to them talk. Finnick Odair whose eyes searches for you from the other side of the room to make sure you’re well and happy. Finnick Odair who feels a lump in his throat when he sees another man’s body pressed too closely to yours, even if it’s a close friend of yours or a tribute you’re training. Finnick Odair who grasps on his champagne glass so tightly it nearly shatters in his hands when he sees a hungry Capitol citizen staring you down and making you feel uncomfortable at a party. Finnick Odair who glares at oblivious men to tell them you’re taken and holds your waist to show possession. Finnick Odair who kisses you, well knowing that others are watching. Finnick Odair who loves to leave hickeys and love marks on your neck and collarbone.

“Finnick! Look at what you did to my neck,” you’d whine when you see his attack on your skin in the morning, “fuck- my stylist is going to kill me! You’re not a goddamn vampire.”

You’d throw a pillow at Finnick’s smug and smirking face, him laying on your shared bed, happily being scowled at by you.

“Well I think they make you even hotter, honey,” Finnick would wink at you.

At least now the other men in your life would know that you’re taken and that’s all that matters to him.

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[risingoftime]

coriolanus snow x fem!reader | smut below mdni

“Coryo, stop teasing,” you whined.

Coriolanus rubbed his tip against your puffy clit. The tingling sensation began to overwhelm you while he continued to stroke your folds with his cock.

“Shhh.” He softly kissed your forehead and leaned his head close to your ear, licking the skin from the base of your neck to your jaw. “You hear that?” he whispered. Before you could respond, Coriolanus slammed his cock into your hole, forcing you to take in all of him with no time to adjust. He spread your legs further apart to give him more access. Coriolanus took his precious time thrusting in and out, and your wet cunt gripped around his length. You cried out his name, pleading for more.

“You sound so pretty, baby. I love to hear you moan my name,” Coriolanus praised.

He pushed himself in more profoundly, hitting your G-spot, “Ahhh Coryo, fuck yes right there.” You could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. When attempting to force him to move faster, Coriolanus removed his hands from your legs to pin your hands above your head on the mattress. “I will fuck you when I want and how I want,” he snarled. And Coriolanus did just that, engulfed in your wet heat and edging himself to orgasm, one stroke at a time.

He kept your wrists pinned down with one hand and took the other to caress your clit. Coriolanus found joy in watching you squirm under his intense stare, waiting to see your eyes roll back when you orgasm. He loved admiring your pussy squirting on his cock even more.

“Tell me that this pussy is mine.”

“It’s all yours.”

You watched in awe as his thick veins pulsed before spouting his cum on your pussy before pumping more inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

[ellecdc]

Matched

Finnick Odair x fem!victor!reader who are constantly introduced to each other [1.2k words]

CW: people trying to introduce Finnick and reader, Capitol behaviours (body modification, eating-purging-eating, no sense of propriety), fluff, a surprise

You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.

There would be people dressed to varying levels of near insanity. There would be people literally eating until they were sick, then forcing themselves to be sick so that they could continue eating. There would be people approaching you, asking you questions, and running their hands over your clothes or hair or jewelry or body as though having seen the most traumatic moments of your life aired on TV from the safety of their homes made you friends.

And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.

“There you are, darling!” A rather reptilian looking woman you knew to go by Komoda greeted you as she approached; arm aggressively interlocked with another’s who didn’t appear to be all that willing to be there. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

You plastered on your show time smile and offered your hand to Capitol Darling Finnick Odair who accepted it readily, bowing his head slightly as he met your gaze.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“It always is in the Capitol.” You volleyed, smiling back over to the Capitol citizen who seemed very excited to be seeing two of her favourite victors intermingling. “Finnick and I have met a few times, actually.”

Komoda seemed rather bemused at the fact that the two of you had met and not immediately jumped each other's bones. “Oh… oh! Really?”

You hummed in the affirmative.

“Every year when we mentor new tributes.” Finnick explained.

Komoda tried to laugh. “Well, I just think that the two of you would get on rather well.”

“We get on fine.” You continued, feigning ignorance.

“The two of you would make a very handsome couple!” One of her friend’s chimed in, earning him nods of approval from the quickly forming group of spectators.

“Well, looks aren’t everything, are they?” You tried, and a few of the more…altered individuals seemed rather perplexed at the thought. “The two of us might not have anything in common.”

“That’s very true.” Finnick agreed. “Let’s see; how do you feel about the beach?”

“Too much sand; I’m shaking it out of everything I own for far too long afterwards. What’s your favourite pastime?”

“Swimming.” He answered.

“I never learned how.” You continued with pursed lips. “Least favourite season?”

“Winter. What’s your favourite holiday?”

“Christmas.”

Finnick hummed in displeasure before continuing. “Favourite animal?”

“Cats. Yours?”

“Dogs.”

You hummed in displeasure. “How do you feel about white chocolate?”

“Love it.” He replied easily; you scrunched your nose at him before he carried on. “What’s a dealbreaker for you?”

“People who like white chocolate.”

He pressed his lips into a flat line and nodded his head in understanding. “Very fair.”

You looked back over at Komoda and her friends to see them all gaping at the two of you.

“Sorry to disappoint, folks.” Finnick apologized with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s apparently just not meant to be.”

“But…��� Komoda started, looking rather crestfallen. “I…I was so sure!”

“You’re not the first to try to set us up.” You placated, placing a gentle hand over the scale-like jewels on the shoulder of her gown. “You probably won’t be the last, either.”

“Maybe the 29th time will be the charm, hm?” Finnick offered you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t hold your breath, Odair.”

“I can hold my breath for a very long time, sweetheart; I’m a world class swimmer, afterall.”

“Oh, you’re something alright.” You laughed as you turned to walk away, deciding then to begin your rounds of goodbyes before heading back to your suite.

You held the towel to your face for a few seconds, just taking a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet, warmth, and serenity of your post-party ritual.

You were just about to pull the towel away when you felt gentle hands slide around your waist before you were being embraced between two strong arms.

“Long night?” He murmured into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it.

You hummed in agreement and pulled the towel away from your face, smiling at Finnick in the reflection of the mirror.

“It always is in the Capitol.” You replied.

He offered you a knowing smile before pressing another kiss to your shoulder.

“Missed you.” He said before reaching around you to grab some makeup wipes to begin removing the work his own stylists put into his appearance tonight. “Anything interesting happen?”

You hummed noncommittally as you smoothed cream over your skin. “Not really. Someone tried setting me up with this guy again.”

“Really?” Finnick asked, feigning intrigue. “Was it a match made in heaven?”

You made a so-so sound. “He was pretty cute,” you allowed, “but I don’t know if it would work.”

“No?”

“No. I mean, for one, he didn’t start drooling the second he saw me. Huge red flag I think.”

With that, Finnick theatrically slammed his hand down on the countertop and levelled you with a disbelieving look. “You mean to tell me that he didn’t immediately fall to his knees in worship?”

“No!”

Finnick shook his head; simply aghast. “You can do so much better, honey.”

Your smile turned soft as you watched him lather some of his face wash between his hands before bringing them to his face. “I think so too.”

By the time he was done with washing his face, you were sitting on the counter with Finnick standing between your legs as you massaged some moisturizer into his skin.

“They don’t know what you deserve anyway.” Finnick states suddenly.

Your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who doesn’t?”

“The Capitol people; they don’t know what kind of partner you deserve.”

You stayed quiet as you finished working the product into his skin, pressing a kiss to his lips to alert him to the fact that you were finished. You felt rather shy when he opened his eyes and you found yourself pinned beneath his sea green gaze.

“They’d be sorely mistaken if they thought Capitol Darling Finnick Odair was all you deserved.”

You smiled softly at him before pressing another softer, lingering kiss to his lips.

“I’m rather fond of this Finnick Odair.”

You relished in the slight pink dusting of his cheeks as his smile grew wider before he pulled you in, cradling you to his chest.

You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.

It would take your stylists three hours to prep you for the party. It would take you forty minutes to disassemble yourself after the party. The outfits and jewelry you wore would cost more than most District families saw in years.

And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.

The best part was that no one knew you and Finnick Odair have actually been dating behind closed doors for four years now.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

hungry eyes | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick is a great cook, and a chef must taste-test all his meals, mustn’t he? including you.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), finnick is a munch and a thigh man, praise, swearing, cum swallowing, fingering

notes: i’m so sorry about the long-writing-time-to-short-word-count ratio. i don’t know if i like this ahhh. lmk what y’all think <3

word count: 3.5k

You were passing through the entry room of your house when the front door opened with a slight creak. Stepping through the doorway was Finnick, dressed in a white billowy Henley shirt (he had a few buttons purposely left open and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows) and a pair of dark grey pants. 

His hair was a windswept mess of bronze waves with different strands poking out in various directions, but he somehow made it work. He looked… 

Wow. 

You, on the other hand, were still in your pyjamas, wearing a pair of thin cotton shorts and cosy thigh-high socks. 

As soon as he entered the house, you could tell what kind of mood he was in. Drained. That tended to happen whenever he had to spend the day with his prep team and prepare for an upcoming event in the Capitol. 

His cheerless eyes found yours and you swore a spark of life flickered in them.

“Hey, Finn,” you said. “Are y—oh!” 

Before you could finish, he had wordlessly stepped towards you and collected you in his arms. Your feet left the ground as he picked you up and continued walking further into the house.

“What are you doing?” you gasped.

Your legs curled around his back, your body leaning into his chest so as not to fall backwards. He smelled really nice, like how you imagined sunlight hitting the sea on a warm summer’s day would smell. 

“Making something to eat,” he finally spoke. His eyes briefly flickered to yours. “I’m hungry.”

Well, you did send him off that morning with some of last night’s leftover crab cakes, so he couldn’t have been that hungry. Plus, he was with his prep team. They would’ve had plenty of fancy Capitol-esque food on hand to satiate him.

Weird.

“So that means I don’t get a hello?” you teased.

Finally, a small smile worked its way onto his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips sweetly and softly to your own, his hands not-so-sweetly squeezing the plush of your ass as he did.

He pulled back and gave you a mischievous look. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You smiled bashfully in response. “Hi.”

You had passed through the archway into the kitchen, the entire room now being bathed in sunlight from the four o’clock sun. It was the picture of a perfect beach house—driftwood and seashell ornaments, sand-coloured benchtops, and large wooden-framed bay windows.

Finnick set you down on the counter facing the stove, your legs now dangling over the edge. 

“You just had to bring me into the kitchen with you?” you asked.

He was already out of your arms, scouring the cupboards for various ingredients for whatever it was he was planning to cook up. 

“Gotta have something pretty to look at,” he said, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

Warmth crept into your cheeks. “Right. Obviously.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, apart from the clatter of a metal pot being set on the stove and the splashing of various vegetables and chicken stock being thrown into boiling water. Your legs swung lightly as you watched Finnick in quiet admiration. 

Steam wafted into the air, bringing with it a sweet herbaceous smell. You hated to admit it, but Finnick was an unbelievable cook; much better than you were. He was constantly offering to teach you his culinary skills which often led to the two of you spending hours together in the kitchen. Burnt and over-salted meals were a common result. Regardless, you enjoyed the time together.

Sometimes it even led to other things as well… things very unrelated to cooking.

Finnick seemed to hyper-focused on the soup he was stirring; he was being unusually quiet, making you wonder what was going on inside his head. Had something happened during the time he was away?

“How’d you go today?” you asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, humming a vague response.

“Mm,” you copied, wearing a teasing smile.

He shot you a playful look over his shoulder. Then he did something weird. 

His head turned again, and he gave you a double-take, eyes falling from your face and to your legs. Your pyjama shorts had ridden up to the crease where your legs and hips connected, and your thighs were squished together on the counter, the cuff of your thigh-high socks digging into the soft flesh. His eyes flickered to yours once more before he turned back around.

Very weird.

An unexpected wave of goosebumps travelled down your entire body. You swallowed nervously and averted your eyes to your lap. It was absurd how a single look from him could cause you to react so strongly. He had so much power over you.

You crossed your legs, palms flat against the bench top on either side of you for support. The entire room was filled with the sweet aroma of the broth Finnick had made, causing your mouth to water from the mere thought of the warm liquid soaking into your tongue.

He lifted the pot from the stove and turned it off, scooping the contents into two bowls. However, when he turned around and walked over to you, he was only holding one.

“Just glad to be home with you,” he said and offered you the bowl.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, taking it into your hands.

The bowl was hot against your palms and fingertips, almost burning right down into your bloodstream as the golden liquid wafted steam into your face. Finnick’s gaze followed your movements as you lifted the spoon to your lips and finally felt the delicious heat seep into your tastebuds. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed a noise of pleasure, already craving another spoonful. “Tastes really good.” 

“Yeah?” He tilted his head.

Finnick was gently lifting one of your legs into his hands, massaging your calf through the cotton of your socks. His hand wandered down to your ankle, stroking over it with an affectionate touch before gliding back up to the underside of your knee. You had hardly noticed his affectionate behaviour, too distracted by the vibrant tastes filling your mouth. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked half-heartedly, focused on getting another mouthful in.

“Sure am,” he murmured.

Selfishly, you paid his words no mind even though you really should have. You had just lowered the spoon back into the bowl, watching the soup cover the metal when suddenly, your leg was being lifted over the other. 

Now this got your attention.

You swallowed the warm liquid, eyes looking up at him in confusion. He uncrossed your legs, nudging them open with his hands on your inner thighs before he positioned himself between them. Your thighs were now hugging either side of his hips, your grip on the bowl frozen with uncertainty. 

“What are you…?” you began, but then he was gently taking the bowl and spoon out of your hands and placing them on the bench beside you.

“Told you I’m hungry, sweetheart,” he said. He placed his hands on either side of you, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “Been waiting all day to see you. And these socks…” he trailed off with a sigh, sliding his fingers just beneath the band digging softly into your thigh before letting it snap back in place. “Well, now I’m practically starving.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. God, you were already breathless. 

“Oh,” you whispered.

He bit his bottom lip and kept lowering his gaze to your mouth, looking at you as if you were a grand three-course meal and he was on death row. 

“I just need a taste,” he spoke almost pleadingly. “Will you let me?”

Not a single neuron in your brain was firing at that moment. With the way he was staring at you, how gorgeous helooked, and the fact that he was practically begging to be between your thighs, it was almost impossible to say no. It was also impossible for you to verbalise it as well.

“Please, baby. You’ll let me, won’t you?” he pleaded.

The growing desperation in his voice had you sinking your hips into the counter, feeling yourself begin to ache for him. Of course, as you did this your thighs grew expanded even wider from the pressure and Finnick seemed to like that very much. You could tell from the way his cock left a large print across the front of his pants.

You nodded, speechless.

“You will?” His hands found the sides of your thighs. “Good.” 

Within seconds, he had dragged your body to the edge and collided your pelvis with his. He felt as hard as he looked. You gasped at his eagerness but were immediately cut off by his lips crushing against your own, leading you into a kiss that mirrored the hunger he must have been feeling inside all day. 

His hand moved into your hair, holding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He was leaning into you, moving his lips so assertively that your body had to lean back to get a sliver of respite. You were buzzing with anticipation like electric currents were moving through your veins. If he was kissing you like this, what would it be like when his lips were further below?

He then pulled away to observe you. 

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he whispered, gently smoothing the hair beside your face.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the brief tender moment. Your hand moved onto his and gently squeezed as you looked up at him, gaze doe-eyed and full of false naivety. You knew you were only spurring him on.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he said before pressing another peck to your lips. Then he started to go lower. First, he kissed the length of your neck and then the skin above your breasts exposed by your low-cut shirt. “Perfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect thighs.”

He was crouching now, trailing kisses down your stomach which had your fingers weaving into his hair. The descension halted at your upper thighs. His lips left a warm tingling sensation that spread across your skin with each tender touch. You watched him begin moving higher, entering a dangerous region of your inner thighs with lips that were trademarked for trouble. 

The air in your lungs was in short supply now.

“Just so sweet and so…” His fingers slipped into your waistband and pulled your shorts down your legs. The fabric fell from your ankles and there you sat, your glistening cunt bare and reflecting in Finnick’s green eyes. “So wet.”

Feeling nervous due to his penetrative stare, you attempted to conceal yourself and began closing your legs. He tsked and forced them open with two sturdy hands. He continued marvelling at the slick that coated your folds, committing the image to his mind.

“So perfect,” he exhaled.

You were getting impatient now.

“Finnick,” you whined. “Please. Just… Just do some—" 

You inhaled sharply. He had rushed forward and finally connected his warm mouth to your cunt. 

High-pitched breathless moans were already spilling from your lips as his harsh tongue delved between your folds, lapping up the arousal that had leaked out. Your body was restless, which was evident from the way your fingers pulled at his hair, hips bucked into his mouth, and thighs clenched around his head. 

Hunger and starvationwere not the right terms to describe how he was acting. Not at all.

He was insatiable.

Finnick’s shoulders slid beneath your thighs, forcing your legs to dangle over them. His arms were curled around your legs while his hands kept your legs clamped open from the top of your thighs. He suctioned his lips around your clit, the sensitive flesh growing more swollen as the pressure he applied increased.

You placed a hand on the counter behind you to keep yourself steady, keeping the other hand buried in his golden waves. Your head fell back with a loud moan. He was shaking his head side-to-side in a manner that could only be deemed as animalistic. He was eating you out like a fucking animal. Like he was a predator, and this was his kill. 

“Oh, my god!” you cried out.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue dragging from your opening and back to your clit, savouring every ounce of sweetness he could pull from you. A dull pain was coming from your upper thighs and you quickly realised Finnick’s fingers were digging into your skin. Each time your thighs tried to shut, his fingers buried deeper into your flesh. And mixed with the feeling of his tongue lapping you up, it felt rapturously overwhelming.

His tongue began flicking your clit at such rapid speeds that you weren’t even sure a vibrator could replicate it. You were now pulling, no, yanking at his hair all the while your hips were moving closer to his face. The pleasure was so devastating even your body wasn’t sure what to do with itself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his hoarse voice vibrated against your clit, “y’gotta strong grip.” 

Your chest heaved as you looked down at him. “Finn, don’t stop.” 

And of course, he pulled back an inch to look up at you. The sight of him between your legs was fucking glorious. A mix of your juices and spit was dribbling down his chin, coating his lips in a shine you wanted to taste. His hair was dishevelled in a way you could only describe as a sex-crazed mess. Oh, and the way his blown-wide pupils were looking at you… like he had a whim to devour you whole right then and there.

“Stop? Who said I was ever going to stop?” He smirked.

Then he leaned in and fell back into his previous rhythm. The heels of your feet dug into his back. He was essentially making out your cunt. His tongue was swirling around your clit and kissing it sweetly, as if doing so offered you any reprieve from the exquisite torment he was inducing. Your stomach muscles were aching in the most pleasurable way, sending signals of pure arousal to your brain that made you feel intoxicated.

“Like fucking sugar,” his voice muffled into you. 

He tongued your entrance, forcing as much as he could inside you. Your walls fluttered with warmth around him and you let out a needy little whine. He flicked his tongue upwards inside you as he slid in and out, thick eyebrows scrunched together as he moaned at your taste soaking into his tastebuds.  

One of his arms unravelled from your thigh and his tongue retracted from inside you. You whimpered in displeasure, only to gasp as something longer immediately replaced his tongue. Finnick’s mouth was entirely focused on suckling your clit, meanwhile, the two fingers he had slid inside you were focused on pushing your body over the edge.

“Fuck,” you breathed heavily. “Fuck. Oh, f—ah!”

The pads of his fingertips pressed into that swollen spot deep inside you, knuckles prodding your walls as he curled his fingers. He was wildly flicking his tongue over your clit with the added help of his head shaking side-to-side.

You were writhing. Your body had never known such powerful sensations before meeting Finnick. Even after all the time you had been together, you were still trying to get accustomed to how intensely he made you feel. Given that information, you could feel your orgasm rocketing from deep within and to the surface. Flames licked at the muscles in your stomach, spreading like wildfire from your clit.

Finnick looked up at you, and you looked down at him. Look how good I make you feel, his cocky eyes spoke. Your parted lips were dark, flushed with heat and arousal, letting each and every debauched sound echo around the ceramic-tiled room. He plunged his fingers inside you again and your head fell back. You knew he was laughing. You could feel it.

The noises filling the room were pure sex. The sound of Finnick’s fingers squelching inside you, of him sucking and lapping at your pussy, and your whiny half-crazed moans—they were all that could be heard. And then suddenly your body started tensing.

“I’m so close,” you panted. “Finn, I’m—I’m—Fuck!”

And there it was.

Finnick didn’t stop. Hell, he somehow even managed to pick up his pace.

Your thighs clamped harshly around his head; this would’ve worried you if your brain actually had a single thought running through it. Shockwaves of bliss crashed over your body; they consumed you. Your moans came out as choked noises and filthy gratified cries of Finnick’s name as he sucked and curled his fingers in and out. 

You felt him speaking, most likely words of praise to talk you through your high, but you couldn’t hear. White noise buzzed in your ears. Part of you could feel him collecting your juices with his tongue as the built-up tension gushed from your cunt. The other part of you was gone.

At least for a brief period.

When you came back to reality, Finnick was starting to stand back up. His hands were holding both your thighs, keeping them from violently trembling. You stared at him, waiting for the spots in your vision to disappear and the buzzing in your ears to settle. There was nothing you could do about the liquid seeping onto the bench top.

He surveyed your dazed expression, mild concern etched into his features as his eyes flickered between your own. His hand gently cupped the side of your face. 

“You here?” he asked, lightly dragging his thumb down your lower lip.

Sweetness coated the tip of your tongue as you licked your bottom lip. Well, no wonder he enjoyed doing that so much. You tasted really… good.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

He gave you this beautiful dimpled smile, and he dropped his hand once more. His eyes were on yours, gleaming with mischief as he dragged two fingers up your folds, glazing them in a white shine. You were so sensitive that your hips jerked forward at the light contact, causing him to chuckle softly.

You watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and within milliseconds, you were reaching out to stop him.

His fingers were so thick and long, and with your arousal coating them, it was damn near impossible to deny yourself the pleasure of having a little taste as well. So, with two hands holding his palm, you guided his fingers towards you. 

You eyed the liquid for a moment, hesitated, and then licked a long strip from the base of his forefinger and up to his fingertip. Then, closing your eyes, you wrapped your lips around the length and began sucking. It was a potent taste, both overpowering and lingering. Not bad though. You moved onto his middle finger, this time keeping your eyes on Finnick as you sucked it clean.

His expression reflected something of astonishment, letting out a perplexed chuckle as he watched. With a wet pop, his fingers were out of your mouth. You were holding his large palm and pressing a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, a tender and affectionate gesture compared to the act you just pulled.

Finnick shook his head at you, wearing a disbelieving smile.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

“What,” he echoed your response under his breath. He grabbed your chin, leaning down until you were face-to-face. “You play a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

Then his lips were on yours and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, all that could be tasted was you. That previous animalistic air about him had dissipated; he was gentler now, kissing you in a way that was adoring rather than bordering primal. Not that you had been complaining.

His pelvis was pressed against yours. More accurately, his cock was pressed against your pelvis. Whoever made his pants must have used strong threading. He was so hard that you were surprised the seams hadn’t ripped apart and exposed him altogether. You were surprised but also thankful because undoing his pants was your job. 

Your hands moved to his chest and pushed him backwards. His lips left yours with a displeased grunt. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Finn,” you said, your hands trickling down his torso. “I’ve worked up an appetite myself as well.”

He looked down at you, eyes oozing with seduction. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

You slid off the counter, feeling his erection glide over your body. The fragrant smell of marinated vegetables and chicken still lingered in the room. You should have felt disheartened about not finishing the mouth-watering soup Finnick had made—or perhaps even the entire pot. But as you sank to your knees and began unbuttoning his pants, you realised there was one thing that was a great deal more appetising. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw him looking down at you with a lazy smirk. 

Your lips stretched into a sinful smile. “My turn.”

[euphemiaamillais]

modern!buzzcut coryo teaching innocent!reader how to suck his cock the way he likes it :(. and he’s all cocky cause reader’s never seen a dick irl and she praises it like “ur so big, coryo :((“ “it’s so pretty”

coryo is reader’s tutor in university and she’s always had a bit of a crush on him cause he’s so handsome, smart and confident

UGHHH need a little blurb about this pleasee

🎀 anon this is insane tysm for this prompt

mdni | coryo teaches you to suck him off

you’d had the biggest crush on coryo since he’d been assigned to you as your tutor—he was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen; icy blue eyes, toned arms and a blonde buzzcut. normally you went for the more quiet, boy-next-door type; but you couldn’t help but be attracted to him, there was something about his more dangerous nature that tempted you—that made your core burn.

you two had gotten considerably close compared to the other students he tutored, and one evening he asked you for a private study session at his apartment. you were nervous, but also brimming with excitement. you were only nervous because you really liked him, but you were a virgin and if he tried anything, you were worried you’d be clumsy.

you made sure to look extra nice—and put on your tightest shirt and a tiny mini skirt, hoping he’d catch sight of your lacy underwear if you had to bend over. you even put on a little lipgloss, one that smelled like strawberries.

when you knocked on his door, he was dressed in a white shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and toned chest, and the look he gave you when he cast his gaze over your body made your heart thump. he couldn’t stop looking at your thighs, the way your mini skirt barely stopped past your ass. fuck, were you doing this on purpose?

‘hi coryo,’ you greeted him with a hug, and he got a whiff of your apple shampoo as you wrapped your arms around him.

he had to draw in a deep breath as he felt your boobs pressing against his torso; afraid that the blood would rush to his cock from the way you were being so touchy.

‘i thought we’d work on some political theory,’ he said, trying to distract himself from how fucking good you looked.

you nodded shyly, too consumed by the thought of how big his arms felt around you, how his hands brushed against your waist. you couldn’t believe he was hot and smart—to be honest you didn’t really care much for your political science class but seeing him made you work harder.

as you bounded down the hall to the living room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way your little skirt swished against your ass—revealing the pair of lace panties you were wearing. he decided you were definitely trying to do this on purpose.

it was boring, going over different democratic processes, and you felt yourself yawning as he droned on and on. all you could think about was how much you wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him… or perhaps do more. you’d never seen a cock before, but you wanted to know what it felt like—to suck one, perhaps…

‘are you listening to me?’ you heard the voice of coryo call out, bringing you back to earth.

‘sorry,’ you pursed your lips, casting an apologetic look.

coryo shook his head, but decided to let you off—after all, there were more interesting things he could be doing this evening. your skirt had hiked up around your thighs, and you could see him staring. your cheeks turned pink, embarrassment flooding to them.

‘are you bored?’ he inquired, and you tilted your head ever so slightly.

‘y-yes,’ you admitted, eyes glancing down at your feet.

being aware that he was looking at you had made you nervous—suddenly you felt very conscious of the fact that you were wearing a tiny skirt, and that your shirt was stretching against your breasts. coryo leaned in closer to you, breath brushing against your cheek. you could see desire brimming in his icy gaze, and felt one of his hands snake to your lower back.

‘what do you want to do instead?’ he murmured.

your lip trembled, he was so close to you, his hand moved down to cup your ass—you were so innocent, the way you were bashfully gazing up at him.

‘um…’ a giggle escaped your lips. ‘i don’t know…’

he cocked a brow, smirk crossing his lips. he didn’t believe that, not with the way you were dressed, not with how you didn’t try to push him away when he squeezed your ass.

‘you sure about that?’ you shook your head in response, pretty eyes filled with nervousness. you were waiting for him to say something.

coryo felt his cock hardening as you shifted a little, hand accidentally brushing against his crotch. his lips parted, and he brought your own against them, enveloping you in a kiss. you opened your mouth, letting your tongue brush against his, making pretty noises as he kissed you hotly.

you’d never gone further than a few drunken makeouts with boys, so when you moved into coryo’s lap you were quite surprised at the feeling of something hard poking against your thigh. when you pulled away, cheeks flushed, chest heaving from your pounding heart, he had a lustful look drawn upon his face.

‘look at that, you’ve made me hard,’ coryo whispered against your ear, his hand still pawing at your ass.

‘sorry,’ you were still red, but you felt a wetness beginning to form between your thighs.

‘mhm, i don’t think you’re very sorry, are you princess?’ he teased, nipping at the soft skin of your neck. he wondered if you’d ever been given a hickey before.

‘no…’ you admitted, lashes fluttering.

how cute. the way you were all rosy-cheeked and nervous at the sight of him being hard. he let out a low groan as you moved your hips down against him—unconscious of what you were doing, of course. you only realised what you were doing when you felt his boner pressing right against your cunt.

‘you know… i could get you some extra credit if you do something for me.’ he offered. you perked up at the thought of that—extra credit. you really hated your political science class.

‘what do you want me to do?’ your brows were furrowed, an innocent look painted upon your features.

‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asked, and you shook your head, drawing your lips into a thin line.

you wanted to do it, though. you wanted him so bad that your panties were soaked, and you were sure he could feel it. the way you were moving your hips ever-so-slightly and clenching your thighs to ease the tension.

'course you don't...' he thumbed the flushed skin of your cheeks, a smile creeping upon his lips at the thought of corrupting you. 'gonna teach you how, yeah? i'm your tutor for a reason.'

your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but sigh at how fucking innocent you were. but he saw a level of desperation inside of you too, a need for him and his cock.

'now, princess, you're going to get on your knees, yeah?' his voice was soft as he directed you, pulling you off his lap so you could kneel before him.

when you'd obliged him, you gazed up at him, dumbfounded, and he took your hand and guided it to his bulge. he was so hard—painfully so—and the way you were looking at him, so eager to please, only made him throb all the more.

'see how fucking hard you've made me?' you nodded, giggling with delight as you palmed his clothed cock.

'i wanna suck it now,' you said, a little demanding.

he smirked, and moved your hand to the waistband of his jeans, directing you to unbutton them. you obeyed, and slid his jeans down to reveal his black calvin klein boxers—a man with taste, obviously. he looked even bigger now through his underwear, and you audibly gasped, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth with a hunger.

'is it gonna fit?' you asked anxiously, brows arching.

'course it will, princess,' he remarked, thinking about how much he'd love to see you gagging around him with those pretty pink lips of yours—he loved how they'd tasted of strawberries when you'd kissed him; so deliciously innocent.

you tugged at the waist and of his boxers, and when his cock sprang out your mouth stretched open in shock. he was so big. like, unbelievably big. not that you’d ever seen a cock before but you couldn’t fathom how it was supposed to fit in your mouth. the tip was red and leaning against his shirt until you reached out to grab it with your hand.

‘it’s so pretty,’ you smiled up at him, singing praises.

‘yeah? you wanna put it in your mouth?’ he suggested, and you gnawed nervously at your glossy lips.

‘what exactly do i have to do?’ you inquired, furrowing your brows. you looked so cute and confused that he had to clench his thighs to stop himself coming at the sight of you. that would be humiliating.

‘give the tip a lick, princess,’ he guided, and so you obliged.

you moved your head down, one hand gripping the base. you liked how it felt in your hand, warm and pulsing. you could almost giggle at the feeling, you wanted to take it all the way down your throat so bad but he was just too big. you stuck your tongue out, and gave the tip an experimental lick, licking up all the precum that coated it.

coryo let out a soft groan, moving his hand to smooth your hair as a gesture that you were going well. you licked the tip again, and then gazed up at him, eager to see his response. his mouth was stretched around another sound of pleasure, and his hips twitched ever so slightly at the feeling of your wet tongue.

‘it’s like a lollipop,’ you giggled, and he felt himself throb at your innocence. you just couldn’t help being so cute, could you? so fucking naive that you were in university and you’d never even sucked cock before!

‘now, i want you to take me properly,’ he begun, and you watched as he instructed you. ‘wrap your lips around me, yeah? see how far you can go.’

you obliged, making sure to push your top lip behind your teeth, realising that would probably hurt the sensitive skin of his shaft. you moved your head as far down as you could go, and when he hit the back of your throat you gagged and your eyes welled up with tears automatically.

his cock twitched in your mouth. you’d barely taken in two inches of him and already your mouth was full, lips stretched wide, pretty eyes watering. he watched you attempt to push yourself further, but it was too much, and you gagged again.

‘too big,’ you whined, a few tears trickling down your cheek.

he swiped them away with his thumb, and shook his head.

‘you gotta move your head up and down, princess,’ he guided you back to wrap your lips back around the tip. ‘try use your tongue too, laying it flat against the shaft as you bob your head.’

you moved your tongue against his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down, and watched as he let out a breathy moan. you attempted to take him further again, this time you reached about half way before gagging and having to pull him out.

‘i’m sorry,’ you whimpered, but he simply stroked your cheek and beamed down at you.

‘you’re doing so well, princess. you can use your hand if the rest won’t fit,’ he murmured, and you gave a nod of understanding.

you used one hand to grip the base while the other stroked him up and down, and wrapped your lips back around his cock. it was easier now, you didn’t have to worry about taking the other half—and it was a big half—down your throat, so you laved at him as much as you could, saliva coating his veiny cock.

‘fuck,’ he groaned, feeling his balls tighten as your tongue slid over a particularly sensitive vein.

your eyes rolled back as you pushed him to the back of your throat, hollowing out your cheeks so as much of him could fit. your core flooded with heat, you loved having his cock in your mouth so much. you adjusted your hips a little to try and ease the tension, but it was no use, so you just had to put up with the dull ache as you continued to suck him off.

coryo moved your hand at the base of his cock, and guided it to his balls. you fondled them gently, watching as his features were dancing with satisfaction, eyes fluttering prettily.

‘good girl,’ he said between groans. ‘taking my cock so well, so good…’

you smiled best you could, though it was hard with his cock down your throat. you felt him throbbing in your mouth, and pulled him out for a brief second so you could move your tongue up and down his shaft.

‘want you to come in my mouth,’ you informed him with an impish grin, moving to slide your tongue down the underside of his cock.

‘wasn’t planning on coming anywhere else… yet,’ he laughed softly, threading his fingers through your hair as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.

he was close, hips bucking into your palm as one hand massaged his balls. you were a quick learner, which was surprising considering you were quite the opposite when it came to political science. perhaps he’d just have to tutor you in this, instead.

‘mhm, gonna…’ his mouth stretched around another groan. ‘come.’

your lips were wrapped around him once again, and with an elegant thrust he emptied himself in your mouth. hot spurts of cum trickled onto your tongue and down your throat, the pearly stuff tasting slightly salty.

you giggled, pulling him out and watching the excess dribble from his tip. you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out, showing him all the cum that pooled on it.

‘swallow it,’ he commanded.

you obliged, feeling it trickle down your throat. you poked your tongue out again and took the head—which was now extremely sensitive—licking up the rest of the stuff from his leaky tip.

‘so good,’ you moaned, swallowing it all down.

he couldn’t believe how hot you were, plump lips wet with saliva, your eyes gazing at him as you swallowed every last drop of his cum.

‘i’ll make sure you get an A on this assignment,’ he smiled, pulling you up to sit in his lap.

‘of course, that’s after i tutor you in something else…’

[bonesandchalamet]

snow melts — Coriolanus snow

masterlist | pairing: Coriolanus snow x reader

summary: Coriolanus likes to keep people at arm distance, but what does it look like when he lets someone in?

warnings: kinda fluffy(?) + BOOK SPOILER OF TBOSAS

a/n: I’m unsure if the one thing I spoiled from the book is in the movie.. if it is someone let me know! I must’ve missed it

the capitol is in walking distance. all you have to do is cross the traffic circle, pray you don’t get hit, and enter the warm building. you can see it now, you can feel the precipitation building up against your skin under the thick layers— honk!

a curse falls out of your lips. too busy daydreaming about the warm welcoming breeze of the capitol, you failed to notice the cars that’s tires crunch under the snow and spread slush around your thick boots.

days like these were meant to sit inside your warm apartment and sip hot tea. they weren’t meant for you to cross in inches deep of snow and bore yourself with lectures and reading.

but there’s one person who might make things worth it. if he’s there. you’d imagine a snow would love this weather, to watch the heavy flakes cover the capitol and dance around making peoples lives miserable, Coriolanus was a lot like snow. a bit evil, a bit cold, but at the right temperature you could melt him into mush.

the traffic clears, and finally, you can sprint across to make your way to class. it had taken far too long for you to cross to the capitol, with traffic, ice, and snow, but once you make it inside you don’t regret coming.

“gosh you look awful.” festus’s comment earns a low growl to escape your lips, it’s hard to ignore him, but coriolanus does so easily, and helps remove your layers.

“how’d you beat me here?” you ask, he’s folding your coat against his arms and flattening your static hat hair. typically, Coriolanus was on time, he’s never early, but today he must’ve had a meeting with clemnesia, or possibly sejanus, that sent him into the unplowed roads and blustery wind.

you can’t imagine how cold he must’ve been. it’s his worst kept secret with you. Tigris had made him a wool coat, but he’d been to embarrassed to wear it, and he refused a coat from your families closet. this then results in him walking in brutal conditions with nothing but his school uniform on.

“meeting with dean highbottom.” its his turn to growl. the two weren’t fond of each other, but with Coriolanus being a student, and a man with scarce amount of money, coriolanus was in no position to make enemies in the capitol. so, he did what any student would do, suck up to the dean in hopes that’ll erase all the problems.

“is it about your demerit?” you whisper the words quietly enough that not another soul could hear you. Coriolanus hadn’t told his grandmother, but only you and sejanus knew of such record.

Coriolanus rolls his eyes muttering a yes, before guiding you through the mass crowds of students into the lecture hall. feeling his hand on your back sends a wave of electricity through your body. you loved his hands on you, in anyway possible, but Coriolanus was a love starved man. it was never easy to get him to show affection.

“I should thank Tigris.”

coriolanus’ eyebrows nearly string together when you turn to look at him, “well you’re not good with showing your affection, I know she has to do with this.” you chuckle a thank you, taking your things from him and watch him march across the lecture hall to his side of the room.

Coriolanus was as cold as snow sometimes, but with you? he was always melting.

[bruisedboys]

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

[voiddaisy]

i am a career defender for life, and that includes the “career pack” from the 10th games (coral, mizzen, treech, and tanner)! i literally just found out mizzen was 13 and the thought of coral, who is seen as the “villain” in the 10th games, keeping him around in her pack just because he was from 4 too, not because he was big and strong or particularly powerful, makes me SICK. i am SICK. i read I’ll Meet You On The Beach by redrasberries and sobbed. they were just kids, man.

[ervotica]

"I'm here, I've got you-" with mentor!finnick right after reader wins the games?! ilysm 🥺🥺

pairing: mentor!finnick odair x victor!reader.

warnings: finnick greets you after you win the games, and consoles your anxiety. something more ensues…

hunger games masterlist

Your bruised knuckles shake where you wring them in your lap; the tribute quarters are so empty, hollow and bereft of any signs of life other than yourself. You've scrubbed your skin raw in the shower, still flushed and tingling from the coarse brush you used to rid yourself of the dried blood and dirt.

You want Finnick.

You know mentors are always the first to greet victors after the games, and you need him more than anyone else right now.

The door creaks your head snaps up where you're laying. He’s at your side in an instant, concern carved into his features as he reaches out for you.

You tremble at his touch; palm against your cheek, arm hooked around your waist as he begins drawing you up and into him.

"How are you doing?" he asks, voice low and soft and caring.

The tears well almost unconsciously, catching on your waterline and spilling down your hot cheeks.

"Not so good," you admit despite yourself.

"I know, honey. I know," he murmurs, tugging you toward him as gently as he can manage. You're in his lap before you can register what's happening, and you tuck yourself up small, head under his chin, shoulders under his armpits.

"I'm sorry," you cry, "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything you were supposed to." He kisses the top of your head, hair still damp from the shower.

"Okay." You nod vehemently, almost like you're trying to convince yourself that he's right, that you're not a monster after what you had to do in the games. "Will you hold my hand?"

Finnick smiles and it pushes his dimples out- they're crescent moon shaped. You resist the urge to reach out and touch them.

"Of course I will."

His thick fingers entwine with yours like puzzle pieces, like that's where they've always been, where they're always meant to be. You bring his knuckles to your face and hold them there, against your cheek as you rest on his broad shoulder. Your bottom lip starts to tremble.

"I'm here, I've got you," he murmurs. "I'm right here."

You tilt your head to gaze at him, uninhibited affection practically oozing from your every pore. He leans in- you’re close enough to feel his breath on your face.

Your lashes kiss at the corners as your eyes flutter closed and he takes that as an invitation. His lips slot between your own like they live there and the kiss feels like coming home. When he pulls back, you chase him.

He meanders away from your lips with his kisses: the corner of your mouth, your cheek, a lingering one on your forehead. Your hand, still laced with his own, is holding him so tightly you’re scared you’re cutting off his circulation. He can feel your anxiety.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You’re smiling this time when you say,

“Okay.”

[gtgbabie0]

-Finnick Odair x reader

{Finnick says those three special words}

He’s so boyfriend! 💕 enjoy my lovelies

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The sun is setting, casting hues of pink and orange that shimmer along the ocean water. It’s a mesmerising sight that you can’t seem to stop looking at, despite the fact that you and Finnick come to this beach almost everyday.

He watches you with a soft smile, his heart hammering inside his chest at the way the afternoon sun kisses your skin making you glow in the most prettiest of ways. His eyes take in the shape of your lips and the curve of your nose. He’d study you for hours upon hours if you’d let him.

“You’re staring” You smile, turning your head to the side to look at him. His face reddens slightly with embarrassment, trying to cover it up with a smirk.

“I’m just enjoying the view” He replies with a playful wink, chuckling at the way you roll your eyes.

The sea ripples at your ankles as you dig your fingers through the sand looking for seashells. You have a small collection consisting of only three shells; one for the time you and Finnick went on your real first date, another for the day he got reaped and one for when he came back from winning his games.

All of them are different shapes, colours and sizes sitting neatly on your bedside table. They were the only things that got you through the days where he was gone, the memories of him live through the groves of the shells and the sound of the sea that’s trapped within them.

“This one… this one is perfect” You tell him holding up the small shell. It’s chipped slightly at the top but besides from that, it’s in great shape. You hold the shell up to his eyes nodding your head softly.

Finnick frowns ever so slightly, eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he watches you press the seashell up to the side of his face. “What are you doing?” He chuckles softly looking over at your hand.

“It matches your eye colour” You whisper as you study the different shades of greens and blues, how some are darker and lighter in areas and how they come together to mimic his eyes.

Finnick thinks you might’ve just broken him, the teasing words die on his tongue and suddenly he’s finding it hard to breathe.

“You’re gonna add it to your collection?” He grins softly as you nod, making a comment about how you’re gonna start a shrine dedicated to him and he doesn’t bother hiding the blush that dusts his cheeks.

He does the same thing, his eyes glancing up to yours and then to the sandy floor in search of a seashell. He picks up one, then another and holds them up to your eyes, his warm hand grazing against your cheek as he does so.

“You’re so beautiful” He whispers, taking notice of how the sunlight hits your eyes. You tilt your chin down to your chest as a breathless giggle falls from your lips and Finnick wastes no time in holding your jaw gently, making you look up at him.

“Why’re you shying away from me honey?” He smirks and you curse him silently because he knows damn well what he’s doing to you, especially when his thumb begins to soothe against your cheek and the space just under your eye.

“I’m not shying away” You breathe glancing down at the seashells that lay in his palm. “Have you found a match yet?” You ask before he can continue with his teasing.

Finnick looks down at the shells with a smile. “Hmm?… oh yeah, this one” He says as he hands you the seashell that matches your eye colour, it twists into a cone and the end is chipped off.

They both sit in the palm of your hand, one that resembles his and one that resembles yours, and there’s something about it that melts him, the thought that no matter what happens you’ll always have a reminder of him.

“I’m gonna add them to my collection” You smile as his eyes meet yours, full of love, an overwhelming feeling that bleeds into his chest and he just can’t seem to get enough of.

The words fall so effortlessly from his lips and he doesn’t hide away from them. “I love you” It’s such a simple declaration but the way he says it takes you back. His tone is soft but passionate, dripping with affection. A soft gasp escapes you as the words linger in the air.

Before Finnick can even begin to question himself you’re already wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. “I love you too Finn” You whisper against his neck, the smell of sea salt lingers in his hair.

It’s all he’s ever wanted and more, stored in those special words and now he’s said it once he’s never going to stop. He rests his forehead against yours, his hand against your cheek as he kisses you softly, noses bumping against each other’s slightly.

“I love you so much” He says once more, against your lips with a smile. You whisper the words back in between sweet kisses that soon taper off, breaking slowly as the pair of you smile uncontrollably. He glances down at the shells in your hand, the same ones that’ll sit on your bedside table for years to come.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

First Premiere || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

Summary: You attend Tom's premiere for the new season of 'Billy The Kid' with Elise for the first time, and your first public event being pregnant with your second child.

Warnings: none at all!

Wc: 956

divider by @pommecita

Elsie had been non stop jumping up and down in excitement to attend her first premiere. The other half of season 2 of 'Billy The Kid' was going to be released very soon and of course you wanted to support Tom, as did Elsie, by attending the premiere.

This was also going to be your first public event since you released the news that you were having another baby a couple months ago. "Woah," Elsie gasps as she looks out the car window to the event.

At first you and Tom were skeptical on bringing Elsie along just because it can get overwhelming, especially for a little girl like her who wasn't used to all these cameras and people. But you figured that she would be fine since the two of you were gong to be there with her the entire time.

"Remember what we told you Elsie, stay with mummy and I and tell us if you want to go to auntie, okay?" Tom fixes her little dress as she listens intently, nodding her head. Your sister was going to come as well just so that she could look after Elsie if we needed her to.

You could already hear the screams and the flashing of cameras when the car came to a halt. Tom squeezes your hand, a silent question asking you if you were okay as you squeeze it back. The car door opens and Tom was the first to step out, waving to the crowd.

He turned around, helping Elsie out of the car as she looks around with wide eyes. She clung to her dad's leg shyly as Tom holds you hand as he helps you get out. You give him a grateful smile as you wave to crowd as well.

Tom's left hand moves to the small of your back while his other hand holds Elsie's hands. The crowd were at awe at the family as cameras furiously snapped pictures. There were speculations before that you and Elsie would attend but it wasn't confirmed until now.

You look over to Elsie who was quiet as she looks at the paparazzi before moving in between the two of you. You expected her to be slightly shy in front of all these cameras who were calling out her name.

You stop to lean down at her level, "You okay bubba?" You softly say to her as her eyes stay focused on the crowd behind you. Elsie says nothing as she plays with her dress as you look up to Tom who is already look at the two of you. You bite your lip lightly, already regretting your decision to bring her.

Tom opens his arms a bit, an invitation for Elsie to be picked up as she immediately walks into her arms as he picks her up. Her arms wrap around her dad's neck as she hides her face from the crowd. You stroke her cheek before you and Tom move on.

You stop to pose for a few pictures with Tom as Elsie continues to hide. Trying to cheer her up, Tom whispers something in Elsie's ear which makes her immediately turn her head and smile and giggle. After that, Elsie was no longer camera shy as she smiled for the cameras.

You and Tom look at her in his arms with huge smiles as your hand subconsciously rubs the swell of your stomach–this cute moment being captured by paparazzi. "Tom! Y/n! Hello!" An interviewer calls put as you and Tom turn your head.

You and Tom immediately recognise her; she was the same woman who asked if you were wanting to grow a family and the first person to know about Elsie outside family. "Oh my gosh, hi!" You quickly walk over to her as Tom and Elsie follow.

"It's so lovely to see the two of you again! And hello Elsie! So nice to be finally be able to meet you! You have been the talk of this event," The woman smiles warmly at your daughter as Elsie shyly smiles making the three of you chuckle.

"Congratulations on the series Tom, and congratulations for being dad to your second child!" Tom smiles at the woman as he pulls you closer to him as you look up at him. "Thank you! You look stunning by the way," He compliments the woman as she thanks him.

"Do you know the gender of the baby yet?" She looks to you, "We do actually, and we're so glad we saw you because we were going to tell you," Her jaw drops open in shock as you and Tom laugh. "I feel so honoured to be the first one to know about this," She puts her hand on her heart.

Tom watches your side profile as you talk to her, "Elsie, do you wanna tell the lady if you are going to have a baby sister or baby brother" Tom lifts Elsie up as she looks at the lady and then the mic and camera. "Uhm... baby brother," She responds as the interviewer starts squealing, pulling you into a hug which catches you by surprise but you hug her back. "Biggest congratulations to the two of you again!" She says before you wave goodbye to her and move along.

There was no surprise that Elsie was the talk of the event. She was photographed a lot and majority of the pictures that you and Tom were in, Elsie was either at the front, up close to the cameras as she looks at them with curious eyes, or in Tom's arms. The minute you enter the car to go back home, Elsie feel fast asleep in between you and Tom, exhausted from the night.

[ichorai]

wool ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive

warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner

a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter. 

Control. That was all he needed. 

It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you. 

You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.

That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.

But there were… distractions.

Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.

He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.

Lower, lower, dangerously low—

When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.

She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”

Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.

“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”

You stiffened, and Coryo bristled. 

“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.” 

There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.

You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time. 

“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”

The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine. 

“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.

“Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”

You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”

The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”

“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.

Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?

But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you. 

“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”

Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.

“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.

When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his. 

“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?

His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.

As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth. 

After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.

He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.

[lucy-gray1075]

finnick odair who braids your hair after a long day at the beach. finnick odair who loves taking showers or baths with you, really anything that involves water and you is heaven to him. finnick odair who wants you to "just sit pretty like the princess you are" while he does all the chores. finnick odair who teaches you how to surf and then carries you home on his back when you get tired. finnick odair who is so protective of you it makes your heart hurt. finnick odair who is a terrible chef but insists on cooking for you anyways because his "pretty princess needs to relax." finnick odair who surprises you with jewelry he made himself from little seashells he collected at the beach. finnick odair who gives you baby fever when he teaches the local children how to fish.