what chaos can i make this?
108 posts
Urlocalfandommom - J - Tumblr Blog
help me i need so much fucking help.
couples quiz ꩜ ln4
type: transcription from a youtube video
The GQ couples quiz goes precisely how you both, and your PR teams, expect it to
lily said: i just love world building (even if im not the best at it) so i can't ever leave a concept or pairing alone, so it goes!
part 1 part 2 part 3 2.5ish interlude
Y/N: Why do I feel like I left the oven on in the kitchen?
Lando: Well, because you did. I turned it off on our way out, don't worry about it.
y/n turns to the camera with a bright smile, and lando smiles at the sight of her own.
Y/N: My hero, everyone!
Y/N: And um, I guess we're getting started now? So hi, I'm Y/N L/N, a model and creative director currently based out of Europe.
Lando: And I'm Lando Norris, a driver for McLaren Racing's Formula 1 Team, and this is the GQ couples quiz. And if I may add, I absolutely think I'm going to win.
Y/N: I'm not even dignifying that with banter.
lando turns to the camera, an eyebrow raised.
Lando: Fun fact: Y/N's quite genuinely the most competitive person I've met in my entire life.
y/n's jaw drops with a scoff.
Y/N: No shot! You race for a living, for crying out loud.
Lando: Trust me, Love, you take the cake.
y/n rolls her eyes with no charge, a smile still on both of their faces and small looks exchanged between the two of them,
Y/N: Alright, you first. What's my favorite color?
Lando: (your favorite color), easy. it's the color of your phone case right now too.
Y/N: Yup. What's my favorite place I've traveled?
Lando: You loved Venice, no?
y/n winces, weighing her hands back and forth.
Y/N: I did, but that's not my favorite. In my whole life, I'd say,
Both: Jamaica!
they laugh at their unison.
Lando: And I knew that, I knew that! Because of your grandparents.
y/n nods fondly, giggling at how lando beats himself up about getting one wrong.
Y/N: Alright, what am I most scared of?
Lando: You're petrified of spiders.
y/n gags, and shudders.
Y/N: Don't even get me started.
lando turns to the camera with a faux look of exhaustion.
Lando: This girl refused to go into our bedroom for 3 hours once when I was out because there was a spider on the vanity.
Y/N: Whatever. Where did I go to school?
Lando: Switzerland and New York, very posh.
Y/N: You're calling me posh?
Lando: Can't the pot and the kettle both be black?
a producer bursts out in laughter in the background, making the couple do the same. there's a fondness in both their eyes as they double over in laughter.
Y/N: Okay, okay, almost done. What food do I love and hate?
Lando: You hate mushrooms, and for some reason, you really don't like salmon. As for what you do like, you get stir-fry and noodles a lot, but only from specific places. And you love tomato soup, that's the number one.
Y/N: Right again, nice baby! You make a good one now, by the way.
he winks at her.
Y/N: Who is my celebrity crush?
lando scoffs.
Lando: Dylan O'Brien.
Y/N: Forever and ever. My birthday?
Lando: March 10th, a spicy pisces, as you say.
Y/N: Hey, Olivia Rodrigo herself called me that.
Lando: And what about Scorpios?
Y/N: Nope, not your turn yet, I've got one last question.
lando takes a dramatic breath.
Lando: Alright, hit me with it.
Y/N: Where did we go on our first date?
a big smile grows on lando's face.
Lando: We went to a music show one of our friends recommended, and we both thought it was awful but didn't say anything because we didn't want to leave and have the date be over, so we listened to the most shit jazz music for an hour and a half just to be around each other.
Y/N: Best result from the worst music I've ever heard.
Lando: Ditto. Now, hand me the cards, yeah? I'm about to stump you so good.
the camera transitions to y/n now in the hotseat answering questions, lando teasingly taking his job very seriously with the question cards.
Lando: Alright. Where am I from?
Y/N: Bristol, thought you said you'd stump me?
Lando: This is literally question 1?
lando turns to the producers.
Lando: You see what I mean? Ferocious.
Lando: Moving on, what is our favorite show to watch together?
Y/N: We're rewatching Prison Break, so I'd say that?
Lando: I'll give you that one. Ugh, what was I wearing when we first met? Fucks sake, can we skip this one?
y/n sputters over him.
Y/N: Absolutely not, we're not skipping over this!
Lando: Oh come on, Love-
Y/N: I swear to you, the very first time I met Lando, he came to my 18th birthday party in a full on basketball kit!
Lando: I was told it was "Space Jam" themed!
Y/N: As in dress like you're in space, you fool! Not the Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny movie!
Lando: Needless to say, I was mortified. Seems like she still thought I was cute though, no?
another wink is sent to the camera.
Lando: What's your biggest pet peeve about me?
Y/N: You spoil everything. I can't ever watch a show or a movie without you walking in and going, "Oh, this is the episode before he dies." Like? Who does that?
Lando: Yeah, ah, guilty. Working on it. Eh, not really. What's my nickname for you?
Y/N: Cradle robber.
another producer reacts to this. a sputtering shock of laugh. "you call her WHAT?"
Y/N: We're the same age, mind you.
Lando: Wrong, you've been alive 8 months longer than me on this planet! 3/4 of a year, mind you. But I've got real nicknames for you.
Y/N: Yeah, you do. You call me Love, more than you say my name, so it always feels odd when you do say it.
lando doesn't respond with his voice, but the fond look in his eyes and nod at her answer.
Lando: What irritates me the most?
Y/N: About me? Or, like, in life?
Lando: Life, nothing irritates me about you.
Y/N: Oh, please. But, in life, you're pretty irritable when it comes to selfish people. You've always been like that, though, very compassionate and not a fan of people who aren't.
Lando: Very true, never thought of it like that, I guess. Just don't be an asshole, you know?
Y/N: See? Irritated.
Lando: Anyway. We're on our last question, so I guess you've won because it's not a point question.
Y/N: I won't rub this one in your face, just because you've been a great interviewer.
he gives her a gracious nod, and y/n rolls her eyes.
Lando: You'll never ever know how grateful I am. Final Question, what's something that you weren't expecting about me that you love about me?
Y/N: Oh goodness, are you wanting me to cry? Well, I think something that was initially a hard adjustment was the intensity of your racing schedule, and doing long distance sometimes. We don't really see each other sometimes, but when we do, you always sleep in. And at first it was really annoying to me, because we only have like, 3 days together, wake up! Let's do something! But once you told me that you let yourself sleep in on those days because it's a time to just, be, and we can do it together. So I guess my answer is, I wasn't expecting to love how much you love little moments. You've taught me to be grateful for things we take for granted, and I don't know, I think it's helped me through a lot.
lando stays still for a bit, an adoring look on his face as his eyes swell with what we think were happy tears. we're hoping so, at least.
Lando: I can't wait to marry you one day.
oneshots
☞like a winner (smut)
☞a deal’s a deal (smut)
☞me and you vs the world
☞don’t fuck it, you muppet
.
series
☞she’s a devil in between the sheets (masterlist)
☞the not-so amazing adventures of bug boy (masterlist)
☞the papaya bunch (masterlist)
.
blurbs
☞being in a love triangle with daniel
☞lando being clingy after a night out
☞sugar daddy!lando paying off your tuition
☞vampire!lando turning his humanity on for his girl
☞lando wanting vampire!reader turn him
☞comforting lando after the qatar sprint
☞lando comforting his daughter after her first heartbreak
☞lando helping his teen daughter after she comes home drunk
☞lando’s twins dressing up like their uncles
☞lando’s daughter being a music lover
☞throat-training with lando (smut)
☞lando fucking reader without a condom for the first time (smut)
.
Hunt for Glory
Pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!Reader
Synopsis: After living under the shadow of legacy of your fathers, you and Coriolanus Snow decide it is time to climb to the top, to reclaim what was yours. You are a convenient ally, a dangerous and sly woman, and to his luck, it seems your heart was tender for him, until it no longer was.
Warning: angst, unrequited love, mean Coriolanus Snow, academic rivalry, fake dating, politics, elitism, manipulation, greed, mentions of death, Capitol cruelty, shooting, blood, injuries, eventual smut, explicit sex, unprotected sex, spoilers
Disclaimer: The TBOSAS characters belong to their respective owners, reader is female. Skin tone and body type mentions were limited for better reading experience. If any characteristics of y/n bothers you, or if any of the warnings does not agree with you, I advise you not to proceed to read the story.
Chapter Count: 6
Status: Completed
Masterlist
i. Fight for Carnage
ii. Duel of Knowledge
iii. Chase for Prestige
iv. Break the Bondage
v. Cry of Outrage
vi. Claim the Heritage
mclaren This little life. 🥹🧡
aren’t i supposed to be happy now? masterlist
✨completed✨
intro
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
part 9
part 10
i’d like to personally thank the photographer that took these photos in Singapore. thank you for your service. 🫡 (he’s looking at me dw)
lando x leclerc!reader
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 (18+) part 11 part 12
completed
blurbs (bc apparently i can't stop writing this)
lando growing out his facial hair jealous lando (little leclerc likes carlos' facial hair) monaco '23 tunnel incident ft. charles silverstone celebrations (18+) who's most likely to... the one where they're in vegas and there's a chapel with love from vegas (lando's crash)
🧿 to keep you safe from people who want to do you harm.<3 🧿
tumblr writers who use small font write the best smut… i will not be taking any further comments.
honourable mentions:
@hanasnx @slutforln4 @murdrdocs @userlando @pedantic-poison @evielmostdefinitely @st4rfckerz
-
tom blyth’s terrifyingly gorgeous eyes. send tweet.
up the hill
MINORS DNI 18+
"What are you watching?" The commotion on your phone had alerted your boyfriend DREW STARKEY who came into the room with innocent curiosity. You hadn't expected that he'd be interested in knowing, vaguely embarrassed as to the nature of the video contents, you smack your phone down, but your brain's disappointed that you're not viewing more.
"Nothing." you tell him with a little smile, and he collapses onto the bed next to you, scooting up behind you while you shuffle away from him.
Now he's interested because you're concealing it, chasing after you. "What? Is it porn, or something?" In a way he's not wrong and you open your mouth to reply when your speaker spills the beans.
"Keep the fucking money." the woman says on the video, and Drew's brows furrow with displeased discovery.
"Oh," He adjusts, propping himself up on his arm. "Oh, baby, I don't want you watching that."
You frown at the prospect of being denied, doubly intrigued as you face away from him and back to your phone, picking it up so the screen's visible and you can finish the video. The sounds of struggling make sense as you watch Drew— playing a character— pin an assumed-hooker to the wall by her hair. His hand looks huge when he grabs her face, forcing her to look at him as she thrashes in his grip, caging her with his body. Your eyes widen as Drew shifts closer, reaching over you to try to snatch your phone. You dodge, sitting up, eyes glued to the screen.
"Sweetheart," he says in a gentle chiding tone, "give me the phone." You tune him out, stuck on how he snickers on-screen when the girl spits in his face. When he reaches again, you jerk out of the way, watching how his biceps bulge as he slams her down on your phone. "Baby, I'm telling you, you don't wanna see this—" His hand keeps her trapped by her neck as he begins to undo his belt, and all those fuzzy feelings bubble in your belly, swallowing down the Pavlov effect of knowing what's to come when you hear that sound. Since you're distracted, Drew's able to round you, plucking your phone from your grip.
You hopelessly stretch up to grab for it. "Hey!"
Without answering you, he keeps a splayed hand between the two of you, standing at the edge of the bed, halting you as he exits out of YouTube on your phone and tosses it onto a nearby desk.
"C'mon, D, I know it was just a job." you reason with him, and he notes the way your brows upturn, how you moisten your lips, slump your shoulders. You're not just disappointed you didn't get to finish watching the scene, that gleam in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.
Curiously, he skews his feature and tilts his head at you. "Are you horny right now?"
You open your mouth to speak, registering how your thighs are rubbing together which you cease immediately and close your mouth.
An expression of muted interest blooms on his countenance, and you surge to defend yourself. "You are, aren't you?"
"No, I was just—!" You animate your hands, gesturing for him to stop.
"Baby," he scoffs, and glances at you through his brows. "C'mon." That curl to his lips is irresistible, single-handedly imploring you to tell he truth.
You sigh, throwing your head back. "Yes." you relent. "Yes, I thought it was hot."
"Baby."
"Stop! It's not my fault! It's just the way you were like," You claw at the air in frustration, forming an invisible ball with them as if you were strangling something. "manhandling her."
He tongues the inside of his cheek, his knee dropping to the mattress as he nears you, and you don't realize his closeness until he's right next to you. Taken aback, you quiet. "Sounds like you want a little taste of that yourself, huh?"
no thoughts.... head empty....
he is so whiny i'm actually going feral rn.
"𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞."
pairing: peecekeeper!Coriolanus x reader.
word count: 2.411!
summary: you would never think you would be brought to a filthy place by Coriolanus.
warnings: +18!, p in v, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, mention of blood, possessiveness, pet names, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.
Lucy Gray's enthusiastic voice, used to captivating and enchanting the attention of anyone in the surroundings, was completely muffled and a little inaudible, but impossible to be silenced; the lyrics, which told stories she lived and told, remained understandable. — They were always understandable and manifested.
So, like the citizens, workers and survivors of District 12 who were present in the environment and sang, danced and got in sync with the girl. — Some were drinking, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, without worrying about their lives and listening to singing.
Perhaps, you would be included at some table, drinking, or not, trying to put something reasonable in your unbearable mind or letting your pride, your envy for, respectively, the winner of district 12 and sing along with her. — And then forget what happened the next day.
Well, that is if Coriolanus hadn't dragged your hand and taken you to an empty, dirty and, terribly, poorly lit corridor with such an inappropriate and filthy intention. — Dirtier than that environment.
"Look at you." — His voice mixed in the song and against its pure poison, the one you were used to delighting in, and a false softness; pretending to care about your sly whining. — "Such a dirty girl, huh?" — A question you wouldn't dare answer, you wouldn't give him that taste.
You knew, he knew, that he was right. — Coriolanus was never wrong; not even when he wanted to be. — The delightful situation you allowed yourself to commit to was indecent, unworthy; risking all the good and distinguished manners he learned at home in the Capital. — And something that, clearly, your parents would be disappointed in their naive daughter.
Coriolanus held and pressed your delicate, vulnerable body on his lap, pinning your back to the old-fashioned, rusty, unfamiliar wall and imposing your legs around his waist. — With the peculiar fact that his cock is buried and so concentrated in your pussy; warming and enveloping him insanely. — The feeling of his clothing fabric caused distress and burned your skin a little, it didn't bother you at all. — His hands grabbed your thighs with determination, forcing, in the future, marks from his fingers in the region.
The young and current peacekeeper was marking every part of your body; even those spots that were not visible and so hidden with clothes.
But who are you kidding when it's a guy you sacrificed your exquisite life for? Even with him severely violating the rules imposed in the game and knowing the risks involved, what would he, in fact, lose in his life. — A proof of love like this was not seen or witnessed in times like these. — And you did it for Coriolanus.
Your conscience was against the fallacies uttered from the melancholic and questioning lips of your parents, who did not assimilate the reason for your decision and request to be transported to where Coriolanus was destined. — They denied it, at first, but they agreed in distress and begged for you to be okay; and even bribing some captain to pay attention and protection to you. — Honestly, you didn't need a miserable captain because you knew who you could count on and who could protect you.
These were the words of Coriolanus, upon learning the story, your first report and confession upon meeting him. — God, you remember every word.
"Did a bird bite your tongue out, my dear?" — He gasped against your sweaty and nibbled neck, and that, for sure, in the next few hours marks would appear on your sensitive area and you didn't know how you were going to hide them. — "Tell me, hm?" — Coriolanus, not satisfied with the previous and present marks, left a long and intense suck and lick on the marked spot.
"Coryo…" — You moaned in a drawn out, almost silent way, running one of your hands through his rough, cut hair; you missed your beautiful and soft curls, that change was terrible and so painful for your eyes. — "Can anyone…" — Taking a deep breath, you tried to find words. — "…appear here."
And you were right, at least there was a reasonable streak of awareness in your mind. — Coriolanus didn't matter, he didn't care, and he wouldn't listen to his words; This was, incredibly, unbearable.
It was a corridor that led to some rooms and, probably, small and mediocre rooms that held drinks and small, ordinary portions of food; therefore, someone could pass by there. — A drunk, a person looking for a calmer environment, a peacemaker or even sweet Lucy Gray looking for you. — Anyone could conceptualize that moment.
"Oh, but it would be quite a spectacle, wouldn't it?" — Coriolanus deepened, even more, his body against your; causing a more sudden and surprising contact of his cock against your pussy. — You two moaned together. — "And deep down in that silly little head of yours, you'd love it." — He took a deep breath, licking the bite he left on his neck. — "I know that, my dear."
Coriolanus deeply hated the attempt to be deceived; the dishonest and undignified way people believe they could lie to him or at least hide what is truly going on in their skin. — He committed such an act, it became too ironic for his tongue. — Snow felt disgusted.
However, he found your attempt to pretend to believe in a certain concern funny; he was delightful, exciting.
Coriolanus's reddened lips, mixed with the taste of your sweat, distributed wet and quick kisses to your lips, which were nibbled and had some rather discreet marks of blood; if he weren't so busy, your lover would scold you for hurting your bold and beautiful mouth. — Before deepening a contact between your lips, Coriolanus curved a sharp smile, as evil as his true thoughts, and releasing a brief laugh that vibrated his chest.
Coriolanus had you in the palm of his hand.
Wasting no time, Coriolanus joined your lips against his, crushing and sucking them; forming such an obscene and inappropriate kiss accompanied by wet noises and whimpers. — Coriolanus's poisonous tongue moved, abruptly and rudely, through your mouth, as if he didn't know it, and fought for space, a domination that had no conditions to exist. — There were quick and anxious contacts between teeth, but nothing that could interrupt you.
Your hand remained in his coarse hair, while the other rested on his clothed shoulder. — You wanted, more than anything, to mark that arrogant man; and you wanted until the end to be able to leave at least a simple scratch.
When disconnecting his lips from yours, Coriolanus runs his teeth across your lower lip, biting and pulling, not exaggeratedly, at it. — Your mouth is shining, his too, from the mixing and distribution of saliva. — And the deep, vigorous, petulant blue eyes of Coriolanus looked at them with insatiable desire; as if he truly wanted to devour them. — As if a serpent saw its fragile and naive prey.
That man, for whom you would destroy your life for, was the very plumbing and aspect of one of the worst things that world could fear and observe. — And Coriolanus will do everything to ensure that your exquisite presence is at his side.
"When i'm done…" — Coriolanus cursed, shaking his head, moving his hips and returning to continuing the slow, silent thrusts. — "…when i'm fucking done with all this shit." — He tried to form a concrete sentence, finding words, but not using them in an appropriate and understandable way. — "I will make you the first lady of Panem."
Coriolanus groaned, so loud and noisy, and without any kind of shame; feeling your greedy and delicious pussy squeeze his cock with pleasure, even in a somewhat compromising position. — His voice sounded so vulnerable, a little miserable, and feeling corrupted by the spasms you attributed to him. — For the satisfaction you gave with this, in the future, title.
A title so promising, prestigious and respectable that it would quickly become his alone; fitting your name, as if it were created just for you. — Perfect.
"My first lady." — Another thrust, this time, deep and sudden; you felt, insanely, the veins and pulsations of Coriolanus's cock, you felt him completely. — "Just mine." — Your lover's possessiveness exclaimed in your ears, releasing whimpers and moans so needy and tremulous from your lips.
The noise of clothes clashing with little noise between the movements of Coriolanus's hips against your didn't bother either of your, just a mediocre desire to feel your flesh struggle against each other, freely. — Oh, but this wish can still be fulfilled during the late night or early morning. — Your body was so pressed, dominated by the young peacekeeper; your needy little hole was crushing against his dick.
You were accepting of him so well, you always did. — Coriolanus did not hold back or hide his groans and grunts, and your name was hummed from his lips like a snowflake at his introduction; even he couldn't contain himself and it was, ridiculously, contradictory. — He felt sensitive, completely, enchanted by you, even though he didn't believe in such beliefs.
"Coryo…" — Your lips were half-open, so red and irresistible, it seemed like they had the intention and objective of driving that young man crazy, calling out his name. — "My love…" — Your head was dizzy, a pure mess.
Normally, Snow felt a deep, burning and bitter disgust at hearing those last words coming from other people's lips; hard to disbelieve that it was worth listening to or being called that way. — So much affection, passion and destruction at the same time. — But, hearing and witnessing your genuine and admirable voice calling him that? In such an erotic, promiscuous and libertine tone. — Coriolanus mentally desired more; like always.
A trembling sensation, almost a contraction in your stomach accompanied by a somewhat bearable and pleasurable tingling began to form; and your lungs found it difficult to breathe, turning you into a panting mess. — And your eyes, completely, heavy and almost closing.
Coriolanus recognized this. — First than you.
"Coryo, i…" — You paused, trying to breathe. — "…i'm so close." — It was stupid to warn him, or guide him, about this because that damned young man knew it; and he knew your body better than you did.
Coriolanus didn't utter a word, and preferred to remain still trapped and focused on you, feeling you. — The blue eyes contemplated your image, which remained majestic even in such an impure situation; wanting to engrave it in his mind forever. — Soon, he sank your lips in a wet and captivating kiss against his, swallowing your loud moans; this time, Coriolanus kissed gently, a little gentle with a touch of fervor.
The peacekeeper pressed your body even more against the wall, squeezing your thighs tighter, as if he was looking for firmer support; Coriolanus was also close to cumming. — The thrusts became more sloppy and dedicated to releasing your orgasm and you moaned uncontrollably against the man's lips. — No one cared anymore about the fact that someone appeared in the region. — Your body burned, and it wasn't just from the unmistakable and unbearable heat.
Your walls spasmed through your body and pulsed against Coriolanus' cock, and the feeling of relief formed in your stomach; the feeling of liberation. — Your eyes closed, tightly and forcefully, along with a small crushed scream that was released through your lips; you reached your peak, cumming on Coriolanus's cock. — Giving yourself completely to him; reveling in your pleasure and passion for Snow.
You would be the death of him, and at risk, Coriolanus would never admit it out loud, never could confess; but, he was sure that you were the point of his weakness, of his instability. — Coriolanus would risk arresting, preserving you so that nothing wrong could happen to you and, above all, to him. — And when he admires your pleasure dripping down his mediocre pants, that the only thing that came out of your mouth was his name, Coriolanus feels his blood heat, somewhat ironically.
He feels like he's in a place he's never been, never had the opportunity to be; if it was paradise, then you were his. — The only one that mattered. — Coriolanus' mind begins to weaken and weigh down, feeling increasingly tired; wanting to bury himself deeper into your pussy.
Feeling your fingers on the back of his neck, you lightly run your nails over the area covered in sweat and hot, bringing a shiver to the young man's body. — Your still dazed and confused eyes watched Coriolanus swallow hard, so tense and almost collapsing. — Soon, falling apart inside you.
Her walls were filled with Coriolanus' warm seeds, such a pleasant sensation, feeling so full and yet so safe in his arms. — Making you actually forget where you were. — And you choke when you feel another movement of Coriolanus's hips, he was pushing his cum into you even more.
The young peacekeeper still felt tense, basking in you, and not wanting to leave the position he was in; still, completely, grabbed and pressed against your body. — Feeling the spasms of your body that gave him.
"Your first lady?" — You whispered, a little breathless but regaining normality in your breathing, still so tired as you ran a hand over Coriolanus's red and bright face. — He grunted, sucking his teeth and swallowing once again.
"My first lady." — He confirmed, determined, with his deep and still rough voice, trying to compose himself and pretend a completely non-existent naturalness and that at some point, during dawn, he will have to return to his filthy and reckless work.
The music continued, but the voice was unfamiliar and a little out of tune and the instrumentals were much noisier and out of control. — Lucy Gray ended her presentation, it seemed, and gave entrance to another voice; perhaps, it was someone from the gang singing in her place for a short period of time. — Sometimes they did that. — It wasn't strange, however, the house was full and so welcoming and she was a special attraction; the only.
Something wasn't right, or it was just an intrusive thought wanting to run through your heavy head. — Where had that girl gone, then?
Until, at a certain and coincidental moment, footsteps were made and echoed through the corridor, causing an unconditional and alarming noise from the shoes; which, in fact, were heels, probably worn out and so well used. — Everything indicated that the person had left, leaving the place but with witnesses of his shoes. — And this caused an acceleration in your heartbeat.
Perhaps, that would have answered your question.
melting snow
summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.
tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)
☆ word count: 4.6K+ 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.⚠️
one: subtle praise
At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.
"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.
But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.
"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.
"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.
So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.
Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.
"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.
"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."
He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.
"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."
Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.
"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."
It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.
A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.
"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.
"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."
He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.
"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.
"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.
The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.
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two: soft touches
Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.
After all, what is love if not vulnerability?
And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?
So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.
He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.
He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.
He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."
Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.
Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.
It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.
"I owe you, Coriolanus."
Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.
Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.
Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.
"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.
"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.
Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.
"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.
"O-okay."
The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.
"Are you sure you won't be cold?"
He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.
"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."
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three: nicknames
Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.
Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -
He almost never calls you by your name.
Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.
"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"
Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.
Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.
"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.
"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."
"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.
"Come on you silly man."
He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.
Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.
"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."
"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.
"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"
When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.
"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.
"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."
That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.
"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.
"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.
My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.
Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.
As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.
You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.
Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.
And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.
But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.
It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.
"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.
"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.
"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."
Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.
His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.
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four: lavish gifts and deep marks
Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.
Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.
"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.
His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.
"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.
You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.
"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."
Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...
He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.
So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.
You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.
You scrunch your face at the odd question.
"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"
Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.
"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."
And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.
Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.
"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.
"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."
You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.
After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.
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five: killing for you
Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).
At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.
No mercy, no hesitation.
After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.
The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.
He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.
Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.
The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.
The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.
The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.
And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.
"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.
"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.
"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."
Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.
Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.
"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.
"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"
And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.
It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.
"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.
"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.
"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"
He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.
"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.
But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.
"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."
No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.
"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.
"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"
"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"
"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"
The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.
"Corio? Love?"
The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.
Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.
"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.
You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.
"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"
"Hm?"
It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.
"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"
He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.
"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.
"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.
Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.
"I suppose."
The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.
"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.
The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.
"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"
He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.
a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.
please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!
ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺
YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film
installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics
“Action!”
Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.
Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.
“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”
Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”
You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”
Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.
“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.
“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”
Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”
You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.
“And.. cut!”
Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.
However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.
“You okay?” You whisper to him.
“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”
You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.
“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.
You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.
“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”
“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”
“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”
Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.
You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.
“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.
“Hm?”
“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”
He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.
“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”
He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”
You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.
“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”
“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”
Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
he’s so bf it actually hurts
Hayden and his backwards caps do smth to me.
MINORS DNI 18+
“What are you lookin’ at?” HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN inquires slyly, and you’re caught off guard. Taken aback by being confronted over your impetuous staring, you raise your brows and gesture to yourself.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Who else?” His pretty lips curl into a half-smile at your coyness, and he twirls his fake saber in his wrist absentmindedly.
“Oh, nothing.” you sigh, feigning yearning to deepen his grin as he approaches you. “You look really cute.” you concede, your hand reaching to brush stray damp curls that stick to his forehead. The tips brush the hem of his cap, “You and your stupid backwards caps.”
“It keeps my hair out of my face.” He sniffs, and messes with his nose as he glances around. Once his coast his clear, he inclines further into your direction, pecking your unsuspecting lips. To toy with you, he lingers, “Wanna wear it? Be warned, it’s probably sweaty.”
You nudge him. “Shut up.”
He doesn’t listen to you, and takes it off to set it onto your head. It’s a couple sizes too big, hanging loose on your crown, and he laughs when you have to pick it up out of your eyes. “C’mon, you’re my girlfriend now. Don’t you wanna do girlfriend things?” he jokes.
Giving him a chiding look, it doesn’t last, morphing to a darker shade as you scan his figure. Skin shiny, and hair sticking up in an adorable way. All of his training has paid off, filling out his clothes as he’s bulked up. “Kinda wanna do other girlfriend things right now.” the innuendo lands on him, and he unconsciously draws his bottom lip through his teeth.
“Are you serious? Is it because of the hat thing or watching me bat people with this?” He raises his fake saber into your line of sight, the alloy of the blade warped from use.
You don’t answer him, instead sneak him away to a dark corner. By finger fucking you, you help him release some tension pent up from his choreography. And when he manages to get inside your little cunt, you’re still wearing his fucking hat.
leveling the playing field
summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.5k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. anyway no warnings for you guys today besides maybe this is boring lol
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a/n: young coryo has me in a death grip rn guys this could be a problem-
next part
Fists clenched at your sides, you storm up to the front of the hall, staring intently at the Dean. You knew your odds were better pleading with Dr. Gaul, but that was a task far from your mind. "Miss Y/L/N, I don't have time for your petty complaints at the moment." He dismisses you before you even reach an appropriate distance to start your discussion.
"I was waiting for this." Festus chuckles, commenting on how none of the chosen mentors had a chance to process anything or even speak before you were stomping down the centre aisle, between all their seats, and up towards the podium where Dean Highbottom now stood.
Coriolanus found his gaze following you, despite his better judgment telling him to focus on the subject- scratch that, problem, at hand: his assignment of the mentorship of Lucy Gray Baird. She was fiery, that's for sure, and upon first impressions, she reminded him of you.
"You think I couldn't handle it, is that it?" You almost shout, discarding all formality in favour of getting answers.
"You knew the qualifications, Miss Y/L/N." The Dean sighs.
"I got one B over a year ago! God, hold a grudge much? You're miserable!" People are staring now, noticeably, but you don't care. You're used to getting what you want, and the one time you don't, it comes back to bite you in the ass over a year later.
"Then you should have done better. Drop this or I'll demerit you." He states in response, clearly hardly caring. You huff, face red as you storm off again, making a point of slamming the door open so hard it hits the wall with a bang.
Coriolanus never understood fully why the Dean let you parade around with this attitude directed at him, but never so much as lifted a finger to punish you. If he had made a scene like that, he would have been expelled on the spot. "I should go after her." He turns to look at Sejanus as he's getting up, quickly gathering himself to follow after you. He had little interest in staying anyway.
"I'll go." Coriolanus stands, placing his hand on Sejanus' chest to stop him. "You stay. I'll sort her out."
"Coriolanus Snow, off to sedate his girlfriend again." Arachne teases as he walks off, leaving Sejanus to defend his name in his stead. He'd much prefer talking you down to uselessly explaining to the other kids in your class that the two of you were nothing more than friends. It was a wasteful endeavour. You were just the only one who's presence he could stand in a social capacity.
You made it outside, pacing the large front steps of the academy, fighting the urge to rip off your skirt and burn it right there. Along with the rest of the building.
"Y/N." You pause when you hear the door close behind someone, looking up to see your friend.
"Coryo." You reply, continuing with your fruitless crusade at this point.
"What happened to not caring about the prize?" He asks, stepping down so he's level with you on the staircase, getting in your path so you can no longer pace.
"I don't care about the prize." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's not about that."
"I doubt that." Coriolanus raises an eyebrow at you. You had told him at length you didn't care about the prize when you found out you weren't even in the running, because your parents could pay your tuition anyway. He envied your privilege, but he had never envied you.
"No, it's not." You insist. "I got one less than stellar grade one time and now I'm missing out on this opportunity- effectively throwing away any shot I have at Gamemaker."
"That's dramatic." Your friend replies. "I think you're better off than me."
You scoff. "Oh, boo hoo, Coriolanus Snow. I'd take Lucy Gray in a second."
"Just because she can cause a scene doesn't mean she'll last a minute in the games." He replies.
"Duh, it's not about winning. It's about the experience, it's about-"
"Being on TV?" He asks, and despite his serious expression you know it's a joke.
"Even you know I'm not that shallow. I'm not Arachne." You can't help but smile. He does too, for just a second. "And frankly, I'm offended at the insinuation."
"Then enlighten me, Y/N Y/L/N." Coriolanus prompts, and suddenly your demeanor changes in a way he would deem hardly noticeable if he hadn't known you for years.
You sigh, dropping your tense shoulders. "My father will be up in arms when he finds out." You answer, voice in a whisper despite being alone out here. "I'm an embarrassment to my family name."
"That's impossible." He shakes his head quickly. "You're their pride and joy. A gem of the Capitol."
"Ah, but for how long?" You reply, poking his chest. "Until the oldest Y/L/N child doesn't get a mentorship? Until my brother does in three years and I am an irrelevant face in the University halls and he is winning the Plinth prize?" The small smile on your face fades as you look down, thinking over the consequences for the first time.
"Perhaps, but one day that will come back to bite anyone who doubted you when you're the new head Gamemaker. I'll be sure of it." He nods, and your smile returns.
"Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem, I salute you." You giggle, raising your hand in a salute. You had heard his cousin say that to him once, two or three years ago by now, and you were not prepared to let it go. You can tell it was something he believed, despite the misshapen buttons on his dress shirt and the weight he'd steadily lost over all the years you'd known him. Who were you to deny him his ambitions? Everyone else was fooled, so you would act as though you were as well. The same way he had habitually ignored the bruises on your arms and under your makeup the day after you brought home that B grade last year.
He just nods in response, jokingly tugging at his vest in pride.
"I hate to tell you that I will have to decline your generous offer." You say, and he looks confused. "I don't need your charity. I'll make it so you'd be a fool not to hire me, Mister President."
You sit down on the stairs, looking out at the city. He joins you a moment later, dusting off the ground beneath him before letting his clothes touch the surface.
"So, how are you feeling?" You ask, sick now of talking about yourself.
"Honestly, not great." Coriolanus answers. "She'll be first down, and I'll be out. We're about at odds with each other, I have no shot at the prize now."
"I don't know, Coryo." You smile a little, bumping his shoulder with your own as you try to reassure him. "Lucy Gray has a or two fight in her. I can tell."
"She reminds me of you, a little bit."
"Is that a bad thing?" You chuckle.
"No." He shakes his head. "You never back down from a fight. Even if you should."
You laugh, turning a little to hide the burning in your cheeks. "I suppose I could see the resemblance. I'm no stranger to telling someone to kiss my ass."
"That's true." He nods, smiling but not quite laughing. You're not sure you could remember seeing him laugh, not since Felix fell down the stairs in the lecture hall a few years ago and screamed like a girl. "Maybe you could help me."
"Help you? How?" You ask, brow furrowed as you look over at him. Whatever it is you'll agree. He knows too much about you for you to deny him anyway, and it's not like you really had anything to lose. If you couldn't have the Plinth prize, you'd want it to go to Coriolanus.
"With Lucy Gray. I don't even know where to start, what to think, what to do." He explains.
"Well..." You think about it for a second. "If you want her to listen to you in any capacity, she'll have to trust you. So be nice. And maybe convince her to sing again. People were talking, that's what you want. It's the best you can do."
He nods, sitting up straighter. "Thank you, Y/N. I have to go." Before you can respond, he's gone back into the building behind you. You sigh, calmer now, despite dreading the prospective task of having to go home and face your father.
"Mister Snow, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr. Gaul asks, readjusting her gloves without looking up at the boy as she throws what he assumes to be some kind of food into a blacked-out tank in front of him.
"I'd like Y/N Y/L/N to be my partner in the mentorship," Coriolanus states, making her pause.
"Why?" She asks simply, resuming her task.
"I believe she would be an asset for Lucy Gray."
"They do have a similar... spark. Don't they?" Dr. Gaul nods a little bit to herself. "But what makes you think that this wouldn't be an unfair advantage?"
"It wouldn't be an advantage. More like an experiment." He answers, effectively piquing the doctor's interest. "We can observe the benefits and faults of two mentors versus one, moving into the next games, and the effect of choosing based on compatibility, rather than random, careless selection."
Dr. Gaul hums, wiping off her leather gloves with a cloth as she thinks it over. "And this would have nothing to do with your relationship and sympathies towards Miss Y/L/N, correct?"
"No." He shakes his head. "Miss Y/L/N certainly doesn't get any sympathy from me." It's not a lie, at least he doesn't perceive it to be. You would be an asset to his cause, to his deliverance of the prize, and likely the most pleasant person to work with, ironically.
"I will think about it." Dr. Gaul states. "But the prize will not be awarded to her in any capacity, you must understand."
Maybe he does feel bad for you. He's entitled to that prize, no doubt, but it's hard to picture a world where you wouldn't be the runner-up; even if that is his reality. "I understand." He nods, before turning to leave.
"Oh, and Mister Snow." Dr. Gaul draws his attention once more, causing him to stop and look back at her. "Don't let her charm you."
"Y/N!" You look up from your textbook toward the door, knowing your brother will be opening it any second after he calls you. Surely enough, he does. "Coriolanus Snow is here. He wants to speak with you."
"Can you show him up to the library?" You ask, quickly wiping your reddened eyes.
"He's there with dad already." Your brother tells you and you sniff, nodding a little bit. "Thank you. Tell them I'll be right there."
You quickly throw on a sweater, double-checking in the mirror that you don't look like you were just crying before leaving. Besides a little bit of redness around your eyes and blotchiness on your chest covered by the sweater, you should be okay.
"Well, thank you for extending your influence on my daughter's behalf. I owe you a great deal." You hear your dad speaking from down the hall as you get closer. "Though, I wouldn't fault you if you changed your mind. I understand she will be a burden on you."
"No, sir. It would be an honour to work with her." You hear Coryo say as you step into the door frame.
You knock gently on the open door, alerting them both of your presence. "Y/N." Your father says, nodding toward your friend. "Coriolanus has pulled some strings to try and help you maintain what's left of your reputation."
You sniff and nod, looking over at Coryo as he stands across from your dad in your library, posture perfect like a soldier standing at attention. His professionalism will always impress you, it never falters in the presence of others. "Thank you." You make an effort to smile at him, which he politely and uncomfortably returns. "Could you give us a moment?" You request, returning your attention to your dad.
He nods and shakes Coryo's hand before bumping into you as he exits the room, pausing before leaning down to whisper to you.
Coriolanus watches, your eyes widening for just a moment while your dad speaks to you and then you nod, thanking him quietly before he leaves. You stand there awkwardly staring at each other for a second while you listen to his footsteps descend the stairs, and then hear the door to his study close. As soon as it does, you're quickly walking up to your friend and throwing your arms around his waist, your head leaning into his chest.
He freezes for a second before hugging you back. "Thank you, Coryo." You whisper. "I won't let you down."
"Are you okay?" He asks, resisting the urge to just rest his chin on the top of your head and pull you closer. It's been ages since he's been hugged like this, and though it's meant more as a comfort to you, it's consolatory to him as well.
You nod, snapping out of it and quickly pulling away, taking a respectful step back. "Yeah, yes. Sorry." You clear your throat, quickly readjusting your sweater.
"Don't be." He shakes his head quickly, brows still furrowed as he looks you over. He doesn't know what you came home to, but he has a strong theory as to what the cause of your tear-stained cheeks could be, and it certainly wasn't an empty fridge like his.
You stare at each other for another moment before you look away. "Uh, so, you spoke to the Dean?"
"No, he despises me." He answers. "Dr. Gaul was more sympathetic to the cause."
"Dr. Gaul and 'sympathetic' have never been used in the same sentence before." You tease.
"Well, she likes us for some reason."
"Thank god." You chuckle, slightly shaking your head.
"But... seriously, are you okay?" He asks again, this time blatantly looking you over. While embarrassing, it does feel nice to see that someone cares, that someone noticed. The remnants of pity behind his eyes makes you almost ill.
"Fine." You nod in confirmation. "Would you like something to eat?" You offer, leveling the playing field.
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hayden christensen - - hex machina for never fade away
HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN as ANAKIN SKYWALKER — OBI WAN KENOBI - A JEDI’S RETURN
Reposting this gif cuz he's just so gorgeous 😩
this gif always makes me think about how i need him in my fucking guts