#very endearing. in my opinion

[butchdykekondraki]

i keep forgetting ren is backseating for me so i keep just kind of hearing her go "my hands are cold i wish my girlfriend was here" and it catches me off gaurd every single time. this is what happens when they make the guy who fronts alone chill with the guy who talks a bunch, i guess

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[ante--meridiem]

This is something I've definitely said to damn characters by faint praise before but I do actually mean it positively this time: I have to appreciate Jayce's taste in people, guy could only ever be happy in a power couple and I respect that.

[northern-passage]

i went through the whole merry search on your account and i can't believe people used to hate her? how do you not love a messy bitch who starts drama.............

sooo true, anon. unfortunately we live in a world where people hate women 😔 but i will say you're right, it's gotten a lot better recently. i think it has to do with a combination of me really curating my audience over the past year, and in general things are very different now compared to when i started in 2020. more genderlocked companions, more trans characters, and it's pretty common now for games to have poly romance options, as well as love interests that will pursue other characters if the player doesn't show interest in them. (the last 2 being things people really hated Merry for in the beginning)

people definitely still don't like it, but i think they are more of a loud minority now than the loud majority like they were previously. which has been a really nice change to see :-)

[aceredshirt13]

One thing I don’t understand about AA fandom is that often the popular takes are seen as the “one true interpretation” by much of the fandom to the detriment of any opposition. To this I raise a question about two of these popular takes: how is it that Yujin and Herlock, who become friends at the ages of 27 and 18, respectively, are shipped by a large majority of the fandom, but Edgeworth and Kay, who become friends at the ages of 26 and 17, respectively, are treated by a significant portion of the fandom as father and daughter?

I hadn't thought about it until recently, but they’re the same difference apart in years and have only a single year’s difference in when they befriend each other. So why on Earth is there such a huge difference in how the fandom interprets these friendships?? Why is Kay treated like enough of a child by the fanbase that her and Edgeworth’s age difference is interpreted as parental, when that same age difference isn’t viewed as an obstacle to romance with Herlock and Yujin? Is it because Kay is met at seventeen while Herlock is met at eighteen, even though those are fundamentally extremely similar ages? Is that why people who ship Kay and Edgeworth are smeared as pedophiles, even though I sincerely doubt any of them are shipping them while she’s still a year underage (I can attest that back when I was 14 and still shipped Narumayo, zero people I ever saw shipped them while Maya was still 17), while the same concerns about age are almost never raised with Homumiko? I have no interest in “age gap discourse” or whatever because I think it’s a silly and reductive argument as long as the relationship is healthy and no minors are involved with adults, but I do care about hypocrisy. So these are things I often ponder.

(Personally, I don’t subscribe to either of the popular interpretations, and prefer the duos to be the platonic guy-and-weird-girl dynamic they are in canon and that I enjoy (and write them as such in my fics about them). I don’t think nine years is enough of a gap to interpret any character as the parent of another, and that’s also just not what Edgeworth and Kay’s dynamic feels like to me - in the same way that I was never under the impression that Yujin’s affection for Herlock was anything other than friendly and familial. I also do not envision it as the reverse - which is to say, I can’t see Kay getting together with Edgeworth any more than I can see Yujin as Herlock’s dad. But I am also not going to be upset if anyone disagrees with me, as long as they are not upset with me - because regardless of the interpretation, it’s clear that both pairs like each other, love each other, and care about each other dearly. All I’m saying is that I think if someone is going to have a fandom hill they wish to die on, they should make sure that hill has a leg to stand on. Mixing my metaphors here. But you get what I mean.)

[emilythezeldafan]

he may be a piece of shit, but he's my emotional support piece of shit, sir

[omniversentertwined]

ㅤㅤ" The cooler ones... "

ㅤㅤWell, she won't deny that they certainly are cool..

[partywithponies]

[isekyaaa]

Whenever fics give reasons why the character likes the reader, they're always these like angel-like things. Like baking for fun, buying plants, etc etc etc. The quintessential woman stereotype in a fairy tale perfect relationship. They try to make reader seem like "just some person" but use traits only idealized people have.

[welcometoteyvat]

. windblume

[raystranslationsfestival]

Powerful Dumb Luck.

Type: Skit (xMA with Norma). Character: Moses (Third Skit). Characters Featured: Moses, Jay.

Translation, recording, subbing by Shi. Proofread by Yewfelle.

[skywalkerslvt]

Bra Shopping With Ellie

❥Pairing: Ellie Williams x F!Reader

❥Summary: You had been hitting on Ellie for a while, but she was too oblivious to realize you liked her. So, you took matters into your own hands, and made her help you go bra shopping. Things ensue…

❥CW: 18+, smut, semi-public sex, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), pet names (the name 'baby' is used once), dom ellie, bottom reader, Ellie is oblivious as fuck at first lol, 1.8k words

❥a/n: Everyone clap I've been very productive and actually finished one of my unfinished fics woohoo! First Ellie fic hope you enjoy <3 NOT PROOFREAD

You were fed up. So fucking fed up. You had been hitting on Ellie for what felt like an eternity, but she was completely oblivious, unable to get it through her pretty little head that you wanted her. It didn't matter how many times you complimented her, or how often you found excuses to be around her, to touch her, Ellie just didn't get it. She was endearing, but her cluelessness was driving you insane. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and in this case, it meant dragging Ellie to the mall with you to go bra shopping. Surely, even she couldn't miss the signals this time. 

As you entered the crowded mall, you grabbed Ellie's hand, beelining for the first frilly lingerie shop you could find. Ellie trailed behind you, a puzzled look on her face as she glanced around nervously at the delicate fabrics and lace-adorned displays. 

“Uh, are you sure this is where you wanna be?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

You gave her a sweet, innocent smile, determination in your eyes. “Of course. I need a second opinion, and you're the perfect person for the job.” 

Ellie's cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink, but she nodded, letting you lead her further into the store. As you started browsing the store, you couldn't help but steal glances at her. You intentionally picked up the most revealing bras you could find, asking her if she thought you'd look good in them, to which she nodded, averting her eyes to avoid looking at them for too long. 

As you finished picking out your bras, you grabbed Ellie’s arm, dragging her to the dressing rooms. “I'm going to try these on. Come with me?” you asked sweetly.

“Y-yeah, sure. No problem,” Ellie stuttered out, scratching the back of her neck. 

You stepped into the dressing room, leaving the curtain open slightly, just enough for Ellie to see you. As you began removing your shirt, you peeked out, hoping to find Ellie’s eyes on you. Much to your dismay, her back was turned to you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with her watching eyes. God this girl was oblivious. You were done giving her not-so-subtle hints. You were turning into a desperate whore, and you needed her now. 

So, as you removed your own bra and reached for the most revealing bra you picked out from the store, you held the cups up to your breasts and called out to Ellie. 

“Ellie? Can you help me with something?” you called out softly, back to the curtain as your front faced the mirror. You heard her feet shuffle. 

“Yeah, of course. What do you need?” she replied.

You smirked to yourself, hoping that she would finally break through her obliviousness. “Can you just come in here?” 

“Uh…A-are you sure you want me to–” the rest of her sentence was cut off as you held the bra to your chest with one hand, reaching outside of the curtain and dragging her into the dressing room with you. 

“Yes, I'm sure. Now, will you help me clip this bra?” 

Ellie flushed deeply, her eyes raking up and down your half naked form, eyes lingering on your barely covered breasts. Unable to form words, she nodded hastily, still staring at your chest. 

You smirked as you turned around. Was she finally starting to see your flirting? Her fingers brushed against your back as she grabbed the straps of the bra, clasping it together. Her fingers ghosted along the straps, sending shivers down your spine, but as though she realized what she was doing, her movements abruptly stopped and she stepped back. 

How was she still not getting it!? 

You turned around to face her, and her eyes immediately drifted to your chest, then made their way back up to meet yours. You fiddled with the lace, still playing innocent. “What do you think?” you asked, tone husky despite the innocent look in your eyes. 

Ellie nervously glanced down to your breasts again, taking in the sight of the lacy pink bra pushing your tits together. The way she was looking at you made heat curl low in your belly, arousal beginning to pool in your panties. “Looks good…” she replied with a shaky exhale. 

“I don’t know if I like the fabric,” you said while still playing with the lace, taking an impossibly close step to her. “Here, feel it.” You reached for her hand, bringing it up to cup your breast. Ellie inhaled sharply, but made no move to remove her hand, instead stroking the fabric with her fingers. She squeezed your breast slightly, eyes meeting yours with a silent question. 

“Maybe you should try on another one,” she said, voice low and sultry. You nodded, biting your lip. “Help me take this one off.”

Ellie, now finally taking the hint, pulled you flush against her body by your belt loops, your breasts now pushed up against her torso. Her hands found your waist, slowly sliding to your back and unclasping your bra. 

She pulled the delicate fabric from your form, letting it fall to the ground as she took in the sight of your bare breasts. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you pushed her up against the wall of the dressing room, lips crashing onto hers. She kissed you back hungrily, hands squeezing your hips as you ground into her. 

She spun you around so that your back was flush against the wall, and stuck a thigh between yours, your clothed cunt now flush with her leg as she began groping your tits, mouth trailing down your neck, leaving dark purple marks. Your fingers tangled into her hair as you tilted your head back, giving her more access to your neck. She began pushing her thigh into your cunt, encouraging you to begin grinding against her. You complied, letting out a breathy moan. 

“Fuck, Ellie…took you long enough,” you whined, eyes closing at the pleasant sensations. Ellie hummed against your neck, fingers tweaking with your sensitive nipples as her tongue soothed the marks on your neck. 

Her fingers trailed down to your pants, fumbling with the buttons as her lips met yours in a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. She pushed your jeans down your hips, fingers swiping over your pussy through your damp panties. She hooked her index finger in the side of your panties, sliding them to the side, and pushed her middle finger inside of your sopping hole. 

You sighed at the feeling, cunt clenching down as she slid her ring finger in alongside her middle finger, scissoring them as her palm ground down on your clit. Her deft fingers curled, finding your g-spot, and your back arched off against the wall, pushing your tits forward. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her hot tongue found one of your nipples, circling around the pebbled flesh before taking it into her mouth and sucking. You babbled out a series of curses, the pleasure all too much. 

She released your nipple from her mouth, coming back up to whisper in your ear. “Quiet, baby. Don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing in here, do we?” Her breath was hot against your ear, and you nodded before she kissed you, then returned back to your tits. 

As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity, a wave of heat surged through your body. Your breath hitched, coming out in shallow gasps, and your muscles tensed, coiling tightly. The world around you seemed to fade away, your focus narrowing to the overwhelming sensation radiating from deep within your cunt. 

A moment later, you were swept away in a powerful release. Your body trembled, quivering with each pulse of ecstasy. The sensation washed over you in waves, pussy gushing all over Ellie’s fingers, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. Your mind went blank, consumed by pure unadulterated pleasure. 

She removed her fingers, bringing them up to your lips. You opened your mouth, circling your tongue over the digits, moaning at the taste of your arousal. Ellie’s pupils were blown wide, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she slid her fingers out of your mouth. She wanted more. 

Ellie dropped to her knees and propped one of your thighs over her shoulder. Sticking her tongue out, she licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit, all while maintaining eye contact with you. You moaned and bucked your hips forward at the delicious overstimulation to your poor abused clit, only further encouraging Ellie’s ministrations. Her lips closed around your clit, sucking harshly as her fingers found their way back to your dripping hole.  

Her tongue flicked against your sensitive nub, alternating between quick, teasing licks and slow, deliberate strokes that had your legs shaking. You clung to the wall behind you, struggling to stay upright as Ellie devoured you with a fervour that bordered on desperate.

"Fuck, Ellie, just like that," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper, mindful of the other shoppers just outside the dressing room. The illicit nature of the situation only heightened your arousal, each muffled moan and gasp making you feel like you were on the edge of being caught.

Ellie's fingers worked in tandem with her mouth, curling inside you to hit that perfect spot over and over again. Your body tensed, a familiar coil of heat tightening in your core. Ellie seemed to sense your impending orgasm, increasing the pressure of her tongue and the pace of her fingers, driving you relentlessly toward the brink.

When your orgasm finally crashed over you, it was even more intense than the first. Your thighs clamped around Ellie's head as your body convulsed with pleasure. She didn't let up, milking every last wave of ecstasy from you until you were a trembling, gasping mess.

Finally, she pulled back, her chin glistening with your arousal. She stood up, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

“Get dressed. We’re heading back to my place to finish what you started,” she said boldly, squeezing your hips before handing you your jeans.

You quickly dressed, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. As you adjusted your clothes, you glanced at Ellie, her eyes dark and intense, filled with desire.

Before stepping out of the dressing room, Ellie pulled you close, her lips brushing against your ear. "You were amazing," she whispered, her voice low and husky. "And trust me, this is just the beginning."

You shivered at her words, feeling a thrill of excitement shoot through you. As you both exited the dressing room, the crowded mall seemed like a distant reality, knowing that the next time you were alone, things would get even more intense.

[cutielando]

Omg i love your writing style!! Can we get an Oscar loving reader's breasts???? Luv you 🩷

loving on my girls | o.p.

warnings!!: light smut (mainly just touching, groping, kissing and sucking on your breasts), worshipping, praising, reader is described as having medium to large sized boobs

my masterlist

Oscar was a very simple man.

He loved and cherished every single thing about his girlfriend, no matter how small or maybe insignificant.

But there was something that he loved just about more than anything else.

Your boobs.

They were most probably his favorite part of your body, aside from your face and pretty eyes.

He was fairly shy about his love for your boobs at the beginning of your relationship, not wanting to really make it known how much he loved just staring at them or sleeping on them whenever the two of you would cuddle.

But you were a woman, and you were very attentive of everything Oscar did from the very beginning. Of course you saw the sneaky glances he would give your cleavage, the sparkle in his eyes whenever he would watch you change in front of him.

Especially the way his cheeks would heat up every time you would have sex together, paying extra attention to your breasts.

You knew how obsessed he was, and you found it very endearing.

But you also liked to sometimes tease him about it, purposefully wearing low-cut shirts, asking him to massage your breasts whenever you were on your period because "they just hurt so badly", asking his opinion whenever you would drag him into Victoria's Secret to buy lingerie.

You fed into his obsession, and he loved you all the more for it.

He got especially clingy after he would be away from you racing and would come home in the late hours of the night, the atmosphere in the whole city and your apartment quiet and peaceful.

Oscar was especially craving your breasts when he got back from the triple header from Belgium.

You had talked on the phone for the 3 weeks he was away racing, and you more than satisfied his need to see "his girls", but it just wasn't the same for him.

He needed to feel them. He needed to touch them and worship the hell out of them.

"How are my girls doing?" he asked you as you talked on the phone before his plane took off.

"They're waiting for their favorite guy to come home" you replied, smiling when you heard the groan he let out on the other end of the phone.

"I can't wait to get my hands on them"

Some would say his obsession was not healthy, but you found it endearing that he was so enamored by your breasts and so eager to get back home to you.

Oscar didn't get back until after midnight, and you had taken a small nap because you got tired trying to stay up and wait for him.

But the jiggling of keys on the other side of the door woke you up, just in time to see Oscar dropping his bags next to his suitcase in the hall and running straight towards the couch, plopping down next to you and scooping you up in his arms in a bear hug.

"I missed you so much" he whispered against your ear, his arms tightening his hold on you.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent, the smell of him comforting you after being away from each other for so long.

"I missed you too, Oz" you whispered back, relishing in the fact that he was finally back home, back with you where he belonged.

Oscar squeezed you one last time before he pulled away from the hug, cupping your cheek and connecting your lips in a desperate and passionate kiss.

You both lost yourselves into the love and passion, forgetting about the time or anything else. Your hands were lost in the hair at the back of his head, his hands were touching and rubbing at every part of your body that he could reach, slowly inching upwards towards the place he really, really missed.

He pulled away from the kiss as soon as he felt the underside of your boobs against his hands, his eyes immediately falling on them, hidden away by the bra and small t-shirt you had fallen asleep in.

"Can I?" he asked, his hand pointing towards the hem of your shirt.

You smiled and nodded, letting him take off the shirt and leave you in your white lacy bra.

Oscar sighed out, blissfully smiling at the sight of his favorite girls staring back at him.

"I'm starting to think you've missed my boobs more than you've missed me" you joked, leaning back against the couch as Oscar scooted even closer to yours, his finger tracing gentle shapes on the pump flesh of your left boob.

"Don't be silly. They're second on the list, though" he said, stealing a glance at you just in time to see you laughing and smiling widely.

He looked back down at the soft flesh, his hand sneakily migrating towards your back and quickly unhooking your bra, scooping it up and throwing it somewhere behind him.

The minute his attention went back to your boobs, he was done for.

He leaned down and started planting kisses along the plump flesh of your right boob, his hands fondling with your left one, pinching and twisting at your nipple.

You let out a sigh and relaxed against the back of the couch, closing your eyes. You were used to Oscar giving your boobs this kind of attention, and you both learned how to do this without everything turning sexual.

This is routine for you guys, something through which Oscar wants to show his love for you and your beautiful body.

"Did they get bigger when I was away?" Oscar asked, pulling away for just a second to examine them.

You opened your eyes and looked down at him, smiling and letting out a chuckle once you noticed how intently he was inspecting your boobs.

"I think so. I had to get a size up on my bra when I went shopping with your sister when she came to visit" you said, biting your lip to stifle a giggle once you saw how wide and excited Oscar's eyes had got.

"I go away for a couple of weeks and you two decide to surprise me when I come back" Oscar spoke to your boobs, making you smile.

Would people think this was weird?

Definitely.

But this was something very dear to both you and Oscar, and you didn't care what anybody else would think.

Especially not Oscar, not when it came to his 2 favorite girls.

After you, of course.

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[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

We love new husbandrrry >:)

I hope you enjoy them and let me know your thoughts!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

---

“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

[marvelsswansong]

show and tell

summary: a white rose at the train station. his hand in yours at the zoo. his mother's golden mirror. does he love you or is he simply trying to gain the public's favour and secure the Plith prize? you're unsure. and so is he, until he very much isn't.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slow burn (ish), fluff, angst, technically a happy ending but quite dark, purely based off the movie but I take some creative detours, CW for violence, mentions of starvation, toxic/manipulative behaviors and a semi-dark!snow (please read at your own discretion, take care of yourself above all else :))

☆ word count: 5.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Coriolanus hates waiting. 

The stillness, the eerie silence of an early morning at the Capitol train station. It eats away at his core.

His mouth tastes like copper, his throat's starting to itch from the dryness and there's a brief moment of fear as he ponders if he's making a huge mistake. A sharp whistle ringing through the station signals the train's arrival, and as his eyes adjust to the billowing grey smoke and a sea of white (the peace keepers), the flower in his left hand suddenly feels heavy. As if the weight of the situation is starting to bear on his shoulders.

He wasn't supposed to be here. If all had gone to plan, he would've already been the recipient of the Plinth Prize and taken the first car back home to buy his grandma'am some chocolates and Tigris a new dress. No more worrying. No more surviving on dwindled fortunes. No more pretending to fit in with high society. 

Then, of course, the rules had to change. Viewership was down and it was of both Dean Highbottom's and Dr Gaul's opinion that what was missing was spectacle. Now, whoever the best mentor was in transforming their tribute into prime entertainment would win the prize. 

"Your role is to turn these tributes into spectacles. Not survivors." 

The silence that hung after this announcement in the Academy was heavy, but Coriolanus knew better than to show his true emotions on his face. After all, if there was one thing that he knew how to do as the star student of the Academy: it was to plan. And when he saw your... unruly introduction to the public, sneaking a snake down a woman's dress before cussing out the audience, it dawned on him that it would be a tall order to endear you to the public.

But not impossible.

The sounds of the tributes being roughly unloaded off the platform snaps him back into reality, his eyes easily landing on your figure as you jump off the train, your upper arms supported by the tribute (Jessup, Coriolanus recalls his name being) standing next to you. Pushing through the soldiers, the blonde nearly breaks into a small sprint to catch up to you as you turn your head upon hearing the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Welcome to the Capitol." the strange man in front of you says, before holding out a pristine white rose. It's a peculiar looking flower, you think, a kind of flower you've never seen before (at least, certainly not back in your home district). It looks almost artificial, you think, with how perfectly white and untouched its petals are.

The blonde assesses your cautious glance - the sunlight hitting the under color of your irises perfectly in a glistening twilight - and a fleeting thought passes by, that the tv camera didn't do your natural beauty justice. He has to suppress a smirk when you finally respond, narrowing your eyes at him with your arms crossing above your chest.

"You seem like you shouldn't be here."

He chuckles at that.

"I'm not supposed to be. And yet here I am." A pause. "But I'm your mentor. Coriolanus Snow."

That's a first, you think. Mentors for tributes. 

"And what does my mentor do except bring me roses?" you question, flicking the buds with your fingers. Coriolanus just smiles. 

"I do my best to take care of you." 

Your supposed mentor says it so sincerely, you think, and he's obviously charming with his devilishly handsome looks and low whisper. But there's something that stops you from holding out your hand and taking the rose from his fingers. You suppose he isn't lying - after all, what would be the point of it - but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite explain. 

Something that makes your stomach flutter in both excitement and dread.

"Move." the soldier behind you then barks, shoving you and Jessup forward. You decide to give your mentor one last grin and a quiet "see you later", thinking that's going to be the last you see of him for a while.

The last thing you expect is for him to jump into the back of the vehicle alongside the other tributes, drawing the eyre of a few who pin him against the moving vehicle and start taunting him with violence. 

"You look rather out of place." the tall boy pinning Coriolanus drawls.

"I'm not, I can assure you. I'm here for (Y/n). I'm her mentor." 

That puts the unwanted attention on you, as the other tributes begin to circle around you with sinister expressions twisting on their lips.

"Mentor, huh? How come little miss music gets one but not the rest of us?" a brunette girl drawls, eyeing you up and down.

The boy pinning Coriolanus down applies stronger pressure to his neck, and you rise in an attempt to intervene, but he meets your gaze discreetly and motions for you to remain seated. 

"You all have a mentor, they're just... not here." he croaks. 

"Right, and we're all supposed to believe you?" another girl, this one from district 4 you believe, taunts. "What's to say we shouldn't just kill you now?" 

The blonde shoots you a nervous look and that's when you feel pity. Just like you, he's in a foreign environment and pretending to be brave. You suppose also that he's your only ticket out, your only chance of potential success at surviving in the games.

So you intervene.

"You could kill him. But then the moment this truck stops you'll all be gathered round and killed by the peace keepers. He's clearly Capitol. And if they're willing to hang District people simply for stealing, can't imagine what killing a member of the Capitol would mean for punishment." 

That scares them off and Coriolanus sits down next to you, breathing heavily in an effort to catch his breath, before quietly thanking you.

"You really wanna thank me?" you quirk, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Start by thinking about how I can actually win." 

The truck then suddenly comes to a halt, and the next thing you know the truck is being tipped over and the doors fly open. Coriolanus grasps your arm in lightning speed, pulling you close towards him so that he'd hit the harsh ground first, absorbing most of the impact.

When you shakily stand up on your feet, you realize you're enclosed in a large metal cage akin to that of an animal enclosure. There's even an over enthusiastic TV presenter in the background, who now seems to have noticed your mentor and begins to call out to him.

"Where are we?" you breathe out, already shivering from the autumn cold.

The blonde barely shifts, only dusting off his suit in a calm manner.

"(Y/n) (L/n) from District 12, welcome to the Capitol Zoo. Would you like to meet my neighbors?" he jokes, eyes slyly shifting to the right to refer to the small audience that has now gathered around the TV presenter. 

You hesitate, but then he takes your right hand in his before leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"You want to win, right? Good. I'd like to win as well. And the first thing you'll need to do? Perform for the cameras." Coriolanus accentuates the end of his sentence by sliding the rose behind your ear, a gesture which draws an excited reaction from the crowd.

Is your mentor doing it for the cameras or for something else? You're unsure. But given your desperation to win, and the fact that he clearly knows more about the games than you do, you decide to play along.

Warm hands twisting in the cold, Coriolanus drags your enjoined hands towards the TV camera as he does what he does best. Lie, smile, and charm the audience. Even when the attention turns to you, as Lucky Flickerman (that's his name, you learn) directs questions towards you, the blonde never lets go of your hand in his.

Before he leaves, as news of his rule-breaking spreads amongst the members of the public, you grab him out of desperation one last time.

"Please get us some food, we've been starving since the Reaping."

The blonde nods, but you can't help but feel anxious: not knowing if his previous gestures of kindness were just for show. 

-------------------------------

"Who's that for?"

Coriolanus had meant to sneak the sandwiches and cookies into his spare napkin discreetly, but of course Clemensia had to be two steps behind him, interrogating his every move. 

"Just not very hungry, that's all." he nearly grits through his teeth, forcing a fake smile.

The dark haired girl chuckles at that, shaking her head sideways.

"You don't have to lie to me, Snow. Especially me."

"... It's for (Y/n)." he quietly admits. She hums at that, picking at her own food from across the table.

"That's awfully nice of you. What, already going soft for some girl you met yesterday?" she teases, and it immediately elicits an angry refusal out of him.

"It's not like that." Coriolanus snaps, his sudden harshness making his classmate flinch in surprise. "I just... can't have her dying before the games even begin because she's not as well fed as the others." 

Clemensia scoffs, flicking the rest of her orange peel into the trash.

"Honestly, Snow, I don't know why you bother. She's clearly not going to survive. I mean, have you seen the tributes from districts 1 and 3?"

Ignoring her comments, he wordlessly slips away from the table and hails a ride down to the zoo. News of his intentions travels fast and whilst he doesn't mind Sejanus' company, it takes intense effort to force himself to look away from Arachne when she tags along and decides to taunt a caged tribute with a glass bottle. 

"You came back." you mutter, staring at the neatly wrapped napkin in disbelief. Coriolanus dislikes how surprised you sound, then hates himself more for caring about what you think. 

Why do you care what she thinks? he scolds himself. She's just a tribute you're mentoring.

"Of course I did. Can't have my tribute dying before the games even begin, now can I?" he teases, feigning nonchalant. 

The presence of academy mentors seems to have attracted a crowd, with a few photographers even pointing their lenses towards you and Coriolanus as his hand slips through the metal gates to meet yours to hand off the food. When your fingers touch his, a part of you wonders if he would've ever came back if there was no PR involved.

Too grateful and too hungry to care, you just say thank you, before breaking off a piece for Jessup and offering half a sandwich to your mentor.

"Oh no, I'm not hungry." he says out of instinct, surprised by your offering. You raise your eyebrows in response, pursing your lips.

"You sure about that? Because I could hear your stomach growl from a mile away." you retort. 

"Right. Uh, thank you." 

Biting into the soft bread, you chew, savoring every bite. A silence settles between the two of you as you both eat, right before you ask him a quiet question.

"... Did you get into a lot of trouble for what you did for me yesterday?" your eyes shine with worry, you nervously looking up at him for an answer. He finds himself again surprised by how much you seem to care. 

Yes, he wants to say. I nearly got myself disqualified as a mentor and it would've been the end of my family's future in the Capitol. But he swallows his thoughts down, alongside the dry taste of the tuna sandwich.

"Not much. Actually, I was able to convince the gamemaster, Dr Gaul, to implement a few changes to the games."

"Really, like what?"

"To let the public send you donations. That way, I could send you supplies you needed into the arena - food, water, medicine. It'd mean having to do the extra job of playing to the public and getting them to root for your survival, but with a voice like yours, the songbird of Panem -"

Your smile drops at that, your gaze turning stern at his suggestion.

"I only sing when I please for an audience I choose." your eyebrows furrow, your usually sweet expression melting into something more sour. It's oddly cute, he thinks. 

"I know, but I'm really going to need you to try. It's for your own survival. Our survival." he emphasizes, staring right into your eyes. You can't suppress your sad smile at that, crumbling the empty napkin in your hands.

"Are you sure it's not just for your survival?"

Your question haunts Coriolanus that night, alongside the sounds of broken glass and pained gasps as Arachne lies bleeding on the ground, having been stabbed in the neck by one of the tributes. When he quickly runs to his classmate, he doesn't get to see your expression, as you're ripped away by Jessup pulling you into safety in an instant and peace keepers swarm the scene in an effort to remain calm.

When he's back home and the crimson blood coating his hands have dried from where he was holding his dying classmate's wounds, he wonders if there's any truth to your answer.

-------------------------------

Everything changes at the arena tour.

You've not had much sleep. You're confused, you're angry, but most of all you've been haunted by your conflicting feelings towards your mentor and the name he'd called you - songbird. A silly little songbird, you think spitefully. 

To sing and charm the very same public who had doomed her to a violent game of death. 

It was absurd, really, that he'd even ask that. It made your stomach churn and your head ache at the thought of cheapening your craft for something so juvenile.

And yet, when you spot the familiar red suit and white blonde hair in the mass of other mentors at the arena, you can't help but feel warmth in your chest and stomach. A part of you even feels lucky, given that the other mentors seem to waste their time insulting their tributes or being too afraid to talk to them. Whilst Coriolanus, on the other hand, seems to be full of ideas to ensure your survival.

"The game master liked my suggestions. So the donations system is going to be implemented, with a broadcast beforehand for the tributes to get a chance to endear themselves to the public for donations." He's speaking so fast that you almost think he enjoys explaining the games to you. "Now what this means is that assuming you get enough donations, when the bell goes off, you don't go for the weapons. You don't fight. You just run as fast as you can, hide and stay alive for as long as you can." 

"How can you even be sure I'll get enough donations for you to be able to send supplies?" you mutter, looking around at the other tributes. "A lot of these folks are a lot taller and stronger than I am. They've got a much better chance at surviving than I do."  

Coriolanus surprises you by taking both of your hands in his, squeezing your palms tight in his cold palms.

"I know, but we have something none of the others have."

You scrunch your face in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A story. A strong connection between you and me, a Capitol mentor and a District 12 tribute. Not to mention, your incredible singing and songwriting. Match that with my knack for public relations and we'll have enough donations to send you any supplies necessary for your victory in the games."

You realize then that Coriolanus is unlike anyone else you've ever met. So confident, so sure, so perceptive of other people and their secret desires and pitfalls. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs is admirable, if not almost foolish, but you keep that part to yourself.

"How're you so sure I'll even survive the first few minutes?" you push back, still unconvinced, though you don't pull away from his hold. "And, again, I don't just sing for anyone."

The blonde opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted when a sudden cascade of dust and fire crumbles down from the ceiling of the arena. The sound of a bomb exploding reverberates as you're both thrown off of your feet by the impact. Your head is still ringing from the chaos when Jessup pulls at your sleeves, commanding you to walk away from the wreckage. 

Rising onto shaky legs, you even spot another tribute running from the guards towards a blown out hole on the side of the building. And when your eyes meet with Coriolanus' frantic ones, his lower half trapped underneath rubble, you both recognize that you now have an unbridled chance to escape - 

But you don't.

To the blonde's complete shock, you instead shove your friend off, screaming as you lift the heavy cement column with all your strength in an effort to pry the debris off of his body. With the help of a few peace keepers, it works, but Coriolanus falls into unconsciousness quickly as he succumbs to the excruciating pain of crushed ribs and bruised limbs.

The last thing he sees before he fades into darkness is your teary eyes, a sight he so badly wants to fix by wiping away your tears with his fingers... 

When he eventually wakes, it's in a dark hospital next to his grandma'am and sister. There's a roar on the television screen as you're brought onto the broadcast, shy smile and a glittering guitar in hand. It hits him that you're actually going to sing. 

"I didn't have a chance to... uh... write a new song. But I'd like to dedicate this performance to someone very special who's recently been hurt." you say into the mike, your eyes clearly brimming with nerves and doubt. 

As you sing, there's a tight sensation in Coriolanus' chest once the lyrics settle into his mind - a small voice whispers in his mind that it's jealousy, for you singing about a boy back in your home town who broke your heart - but it's overwhelmed by the feelings of gratitude and awe that you'd ended up doing what he asked you to do. All that, after selflessly saving his life.

"A...are you okay, Coryo?" is all Tigris asks, brushing his hair back and gently guiding him back down onto bed upon seeing his expression twist into one of discomfort.

"She could've run." 

"What?"

"At the arena. The blast blew open a large opening on the side of the stadium. I saw one of the tributes actually make it out that way." he lets out a shaky breath, hating you for what you've done to him to make him feel this way. "Damn it, Tigris. She could've run. She could've-"

A single tear drops from his left eye and onto his injured palm, his weak voice giving away his true emotions.

"She could've saved herself from even having to participate in the games. But she stayed. She fucking stayed behind to lift the debris off of me."

"She saved your life." his sister finishes for him, the atmosphere turning somber as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. "I'm just so glad that you're both safe." 

As you retreat from the screen, the donation numbers only piling up higher as Lucky Flickerman closes out the broadcast, a hot fire lights up in Coriolanus' stomach. 

He has to save you.

No matter what it takes.

--------------------------------------

"You know he's just using you, right?"

After the broadcast, once it's revealed that you were given the largest amount of donations out of all the other tributes, Coral from District 4 corners you backstage. 

"Pardon?" you fake ignorance, a small smile playing on your lips, which only seems to aggravate the girl further. 

"Your pretty boy mentor. He's only been faking all sweet for you to get the public to send you donations. In fact, I bet he didn't even bother to try and pull himself out of the wreckage so that he could get more public sympathy.

You snap at that, all fake modesty melting away in an instant.

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Coral. Coriolanus isn't like that." you spit, but all she does is look down at you with a nasty smirk on her lips.

"Oh really? And how would you know, little songbird? Think he'd care about someone from district 12? And why do you think he wants you to win so badly? Because he's a good person?" she mocks, her face now a mere inches away from yours. "No. I reckon it's more for the prize money." 

You can't sleep that night at the zoo, tossing and turning in the dark. Your mind can't seem to rest, torn between the adrenaline and dread for the games tomorrow, alongside the constant worry over Coriolanus' wellbeing and doubts over his genuinity and trustworthiness.

Coral's just trying to get in my head. you repeat to yourself, over and over again. You're on the edge of sleep, exhausted and upset by your conflicting emotions, when you hear a familiar voice coming from the darkness. 

It sounds like Coriolanus. 

You sit up straight, and it's true: he's here, and he's whispering your name repeatedly, beckoning you towards the front of the cage and away from your sleeping competitors. Suddenly, the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue disappears, and you find yourself gravitating towards the only person you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.

"Coryo, you're... you're alright." you sigh out, almost overwhelmed with relief. You don't even realize you're crying until his hands reach up and brush away your tears, his warm hand a stark contrast to the freezing cold of the night.

"I am. All thanks to you, songbird." he breathes out, his fingers tracing the ripples of your cheeks. His head feels dizzy and his hands tremble as he searches his pockets for his mother's golden compact mirror. 

"Don't call me that." you weakly laugh, as he does too. "What's this?" you ask, staring at the object he’s folded gently into your hands. 

"It's for you to use in the arena. Now listen to what I say very carefully. Don't breathe this in, don't spill it on yourself, and only use it when you really need to." he slowly explains, as if he's terrified that you're going to harm yourself by merely carrying it in your pockets. 

"Is... is this allowed? For you to sneak in and give me this?" you whisper, looking around your surroundings, but it's pitch black. 

The blonde purses his lips, using every muscle in his body to keep his expression neutral.

No, it's certainly not allowed. I am risking my life, as well as my family's future, by doing this.

"That's not important. What is important is that the blast from the arena has created a hole leading out to a bunch of service tunnels. I tested it out myself, it leads towards the outside, far away from the peace keepers." 

"Wait, I don't understa-"

Desperation grabs a hold of him, and it's a foreign feeling - the crushing despair of wanting to protect someone that he can't, the burning urge to want to put someone else ahead of him for once.

"What I need you to do tomorrow, (Y/n), is to run. The moment the alarm rings, don't even think of running towards the weapons or fighting the others. Don't even hide anymore. Just… just run towards the tunnels, by yourself, and get out."

"But what about Jessup-" you hiccup. Your head's spinning, confused and horrified by your mentor's change of plans and the prospect of leaving behind your friend to die in the arena. 

"Forget about him." Coriolanus snaps. Suddenly, his eyes are cold and his voice is firm, commanding you as if you have no choice in the matter. "In there, he's as dangerous as the other tributes. You can't trust anyone, not even your supposed friends, okay? The games, they-" he chokes on his own words, and there's something again in Coriolanus' eyes that you can't quite decipher. "They bring out the worst in people. Promise me you'll run."

It makes your stomach twist in anxiety.

"I-"

"Please." 

As he begs, his face crumbles, his voice so desperate and feeble that you can't find it in yourself to say no. 

"I... I'll try." you relent, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your agreement. 

"Good. Perfect." He takes your head in his hands and softly kisses your temple. "I won't let you die in there, okay? Just like you took care of me after the explosion. I'm going to take care of you."

"I'm your mentor. I do my best to take care of you." 

Coriolanus' words from the train station echo in your head as you nod, pocketing the mirror deep inside your dress to hide it away from plain sight.

"Will I... will I be able to see you, after the games?" 

You immediately feel stupid for even asking that. Everyone knows winning the games merely allows your return to your home district. And on all logical accounts, it wouldn't make any sense for the man to give up his life in the Capitol to follow you back to 12.

But he smiles at your innocent question, only nodding whilst squeezing your hands in the dark. To your feeble heart and mind, it feels like a genuine promise.

"Of course, my songbird. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." you whisper.

"I never do." 

And for the first time, you think you actually believe him wholeheartedly.

----------------------------------

You can't believe it. 

You've won.

You were so sure you were going to die once the snakes had been released, eyes closing shut once the venomous snakes began to crawl up your skin, but as you continued to sing... The reptiles simply slithered by your side, remaining docile and non-threatening. And based on the snakes' sudden change of behavior and Highbottom's scowl when he announced you as the victor of the 10th Hunger Games - "consider yourself lucky, little girl, as it seems your mentor was willing to break more than a few rules for you" - your stomach churns at the realization that Coriolanus kept his promise.

He did whatever it took to get you out. 

Even cheating. 

You've only heard whispers of the punishments for cheating at the Capitol. But based on the frequent hangings of rebels in your home district, you can't imagine that the punishment would be very kind.

Weeks have passed since your victory, since the last time you've even seen Coriolanus, but it does nothing to erase him from your mind. You still see his faint silhouette in the mornings, when your eyes have barely adjusted to the morning light and there's a pile of clothes sitting on the chair beside your bed. You think you hear his voice amongst the sea of strangers’ conversations, calling out for his 'songbird'. And you swear you see his face in every crowd at the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus is having the same struggles on the opposite end of the country. Luckily, bearing the last name Snow meant his punishment for cheating was to be lighter than the usual hanging: mandatory military service. District 8. But he's sure to bring his last few bills to bribe the immigration officer for a transfer to 12. 

All to come find you. 

He suffers through the first week of training - grueling hours, hanging ceremonies, endless ramblings from Sejanus about making a change for the better. He pretends not to notice Sejanus establishing connections within the rebel community, until he can’t ignore it anymore. After all, Coriolanus simply can't afford his friend’s idealism and recklessness to get him killed too, and potentially you, when you're thought to be linked to the movement by mere virtue of association.

Especially not you, Coriolanus thinks.

After the games, of having to watch you bleed, sob and fight for hours on end as he stood helplessly, only able to watch: even the passing thought of your death elicits a violent reaction in him. He'll do anything for you. 

Even if that means turning in his only friend to prove his loyalty to the Capitol.

It's an unremarkable Wednesday night for you when you're singing a song at the bar, black guitar in hand and the smell of booze thick in the air, when your eyes come across a familiar face. 

It takes you a few seconds, of course. You almost think it’s a hallucination, if it wasn’t for the sea of other soldiers surrounding him, validating his presence. His fluffy white locks are gone, replaced with a clean buzz cut. He's lost a bit of weight, his shoulders more broad and rough from military training, and the lack of expensive bright fabrics draped around his figure is jarring at first. But it suits him, you think. 

The song can't finish any faster before you're slinging your guitar to the back and rushing up to Coriolanus, immediately throwing your arms around him. He stiffens in your embrace before relaxing, his arms finding your waist and squeezing you tightly. And you can't help but savor every essence of his being: he smells of sweat and coal (unlike his Capitol uniform which always smelled of florals and clean linen) and you can feel the cool metal of his dog tags press against your collarbone at this angle.

"You came back for me." you breathe out, still not believing that he's in front of you. Your ex mentor just smiles, tapping your cheeks with his hands.

"Said I'd never break a promise, now didn't I?" 

As the next performer goes up on stage, recapturing the attention of the audience, you pull him away towards the back room, far away from the bustling crowds and twinkling lights.

"I've thought of you every day, my songbird." Coriolanus whispers against your skin once you two are away from the crowds, his head falling forwards into the nape of your neck.

Your cheeks warm at his comment, your fingers coming up to play with the dog tags around his neck, before a light chuckle escapes your lips.

"What's so funny? Did you not miss me?" the blonde teases, and you shake your head sideways in denial.

"Of course I missed you. I missed you more than you could imagine."

"Then what's the chuckle for?"

You let out a short sigh, not knowing if it’d be wise to bring it up. But all he does is encouraging you, looking deep into your eyes and nodding, urging you to say what’s on your mind. You relent, shoulders sagging. 

"It's just... when I won the games, Highbottom congratulated me. But not for winning the games. But for surviving you." you awkwardly chuckle in hopes of diffusing the seriousness of your question. "Is it true, Coryo?"

"What are you getting at?" is his response, coy and low. You can't tell if he's amused, annoyed or disturbed. 

Or all three at once.

"There's rumors, you know. I heard that you... you had to kill a tribute." you whisper, as if what you’re saying is the biggest secret in the world. "Is it true?"

Coriolanus pauses at that, the smirk on his face dropping for a fraction of a second before he's cupping your face and lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. His stare is so strong, so unwavering, almost to the point of unnerving you. But it's matched with such warmth and softness in his touch as he strokes your hair.

"You have to understand, darling… It was just like the snakes. If I hadn't rigged the game by getting the snakes used to your smell so they wouldn't attack you, you would've died. And if I hadn't killed the tribute charging at me when I had to sneak into the arena to rescue Sejanus-" he sighs, slow and long. He looks as if he’s thinking hard. "I had to, my songbird. I had to do it to protect you. To take care of you." he emphasizes.

You're not sure what kind of an answer you wanted, but you're unable to respond immediately, as it slowly dawns on you that this man both cheated and killed another person for you. 

His response to your silence is a swift kiss, calloused hands dropping to your waist to pull you in close, the gesture desperate and messy. Breathing heavily when he parts from you, he kisses you once more, this time a short peck which is more rough and demanding.

"I would do anything for you, (Y/n) (L/n). Anything for you."

Coriolanus chooses to keep quiet about the fact that technically, he could've just injured the tribute charging towards him instead. Or that it felt freeing to have ended the tribute’s life. Or that just a few hours ago, he tipped off the Capitol about Sejanus' rebellion. All in an effort to secure your unbridled safety. So that he doesn’t ever have to let go of you again.

"Now, where are your manners, my songbird? Aren't you going to thank me?" he whispers against your lips, smoothing out your hair.

"T-thank you, Coryo." you manage to stutter.

He smiles at that, kissing the top of your head as he sways you from side to side.

"Of course, love. Don't worry. We’re going to be just fine. In fact, everything will be fine from now on."

As you peak out from under his embrace, you're not so sure if you can believe him anymore.

a/n: leave it to a new hunger games movie and Tom Blyth playing young!Snow to make me return from my 1.5 year long writing hiatus.

I'm quite nervous about this one as it's my first time writing for a semi-dark character and also because it's been so long since I posted my writing on here... But I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, reblog, etc if you liked it. If this one is received well I might go ahead and post the other Snow fics currently sitting in my drafts!!!

[seungfl0wer]

Jeongin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩷

-🩵

•I feel like he’s very nervous, especially at first.

•Constantly checking on you making sure anything he does is ok.

•Like kissing. He’s gonna ask you if “it’s ok” to kiss you.

•Because he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable.

•When y’all get past that phase he’s still asking sometimes however he goes for it more often than not.

•He’s not super big into skin ship.

•However that does not mean he’s not ever gonna touch you of course.

•Holding hands is his favorite.

•Or wrapping his arms around you in a back hug.

•He’s not into PDA so if you try to kiss him around the others.

•He’s gonna turn bright red.

•He’s very reserved in my opinion.

•I feel like since he likes fashion so much he’d honestly like those couple outfits.

•Not the “I love my boyfriend” shirts.

•But like same color shirts and stuff just simple cute couple fits.

•Will have you in his OOTD’s especially when y’all matching.

•Absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes too.

•Ugh it just melts him. Finds it so endearing.

•Has a playlist of songs that remind him of you.

•Loves taking you to different places with him so you can experience them with him.

•Teases you of course.

•However he’s very mindful and sometimes can overthink what he says.

•He’s just afraid of hurting your feelings.

•Cuddles.

•Like I said he’s not a big touchy person however.

•When you’re sleeping he’s pulling you so close.

•Tells you all the time how it’s hard to sleep without you.

•Sings trots songs for you.

•Likes karaoke dates a lot too.

•Will definitely send you pictures of their concepts before it’s out.

•He can’t keep things from you.

•It’s really hard for him to keep secrets even if it’s something like a present or surprise.

•He just tells you everything so it’s hard for him not to tell you these exciting things.

•Clumsy.

•You joke how you need to put him in a bubble.

•Or bubble wrap the house at least.

•He loves taking pictures of you too.

•Changes his background so much cause he takes such cute pictures of you.

•No matter how long y’all date for he’s still smiling when he sees your name pop up on his phone.

•Even old and grey he’s still all giddy with you cause he loves you.

•I feel like after he lets his wall down he falls really hard.

•His love is so very genuine.

•He’s just a soft guy under those fox eyes, whose only mission is to make you smile.

•To make you happy and to feel loved and he’ll always be there to do so.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•Again this man’s still a bit nervous.

•He lets you take the lead a lot.

•But when he gets comfortable you’ll see the real jeongin.

•He’s very much a switch.

•Loves when you take care of him.

•Calling him your “Sweet baby” makes him go crazy.

•Whimpers so much when he’s like this.

•”I’ve been so good for you please-“

•Morning blow jobs to wake him up.

•Lazy morning sex too.

•You’re still half asleep when he’s pushing himself between your legs.

•His head in the crook of your neck whimpering how he “needs you so much��

•When you respond he’s losing it.

•Lubing you up before pushing into your sweetness.

•On the other hand he can be very aggressive.

•A lot of the times it’s when he’s stressed.

•He’ll have you face down as up as he pounds deep into you.

•Those big beautiful hands leaving hand prints on your ass.

•Loves sneaking you into the dorms.

•Telling you how you “have to stay quiet”

•Gets off on the thought of the others hearing how good he’s making you feel.

•Also those hands I mentioned?

•The way he pushes them into your sweet hole it just-

•He curls them so perfectly hitting every sweet spot.

•He knows how much you like his pretty hands.

•Teases you about how you fall apart on them.

•Aftercare is a lot for him.

•He is always concerned he hurt you or pushed you too far.

•Constant “are you ok?”

•Runs to grab you towels, snacks and drinks.

•Just wants to make sure you’re completely ok.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something