#hunger games fanfic

[coryosbaby]

we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong

ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up

notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry

When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.

A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.

As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.

Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.

Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.

It’s just a matter of how far.

—

Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.

Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.

“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.

“Yes.”

An honest answer. He must trust you.

You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.

“I killed someone.”

He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.

“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”

He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.

“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”

Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.

“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”

He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.

“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”

Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.

You speak to him in a much lower tone now.

“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”

Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.

“And what would that be?”

Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.

“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”

And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.

“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”

He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.

“… the floor?”

He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.

No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.

And then it hits you.

Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.

And for some reason, that makes you want him more.

“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”

His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.

“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”

“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”

He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.

“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.

“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”

His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.

“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”

He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.

“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”

He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.

“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”

He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.

“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.

“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”

He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.

“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”

He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.

“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”

He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.

You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.

“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”

He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.

And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.

You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.

But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.

He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.

“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”

He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.

“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”

You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.

You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.

“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“

“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”

And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.

“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”

You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.

“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”

He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.

“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”

And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.

“Did I do good?” He asks.

You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.

“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”

He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.

“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.

“The tile was cold enough.”

[your-averagewriter]

“I will always wait for you."

Summary: (y/n) is rushed into the hospital of District 13 after being rescued from the Capitol. After a lot of distress, Finnick and (y/n) reunite. (Finnick Odair x fem!reader)

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: violence, talk of trauma, injury, kissing

-

-

I feel my head lull backwards, I don’t even have the strength to look up properly but even so, my head feels abnormally heavy. The hospital cloth scratches against my burnt skin but the feeling is still better than that of the sodden outfits I remember only too well. The sounds of machines, beeping and beeping in my ears irritate me to no end, mimicking the sounds of the sirens and alarms before the imminent terror of the cells. Blinking my eyes shut and clasping my hands over my ears I try to stop myself from thinking but all I can hear is Snow’s smug voice through the speaker and I can see his smirk with it. 

I open my eyes again to see a bland corridor, nothing but grey walls but I can hear the incessant beeping and doctors yelling. Others in hospital beds and gowns rush down the hallway and I notice a few familiar face. I can’t think of who they are, I recognise their faces but where from I don’t know, I stop thinking about it as my head starts to hurt even more.

I try to sit up but somebody pushes me back down and I don’t have the strength to protest. There are shouts to up my dose and I try to protest but all that comes out are incomprehensible slurs. I quickly feel the effect as my eyes roll back and I suddenly feel tired, even more so than usual. 

The bed isn’t soft but it’s certainly an improvement on the prison beds which makes it even easier to just fall asleep. Feeling my eyelids droop I let them, in desperate need of some rest and sleep. 

Only moments later I feel myself gain consciousness and I immediately sit upright, this time not stopped by an attendant. Sadly, the constant noise hasn’t stopped, machines, people, everything and everyone is making a noise it seems and my hands fly to my ears in desperate need of relief from the sounds. My eyes are hot and I can feel tears stinging at my eyes begging to be released. My fingernails dig into my scalp as I grip my ears, desperately trying to block out the noises but it’s all in vain because as soon as I block out surrounding noise I can hear Snow in my head again, taunting me. At any moment he could take me back and torture me, he could kill me and my family - he might have already. His threats in my ear only provoke more tears but I’m quickly attended to by strangers dressed in weird uniforms.

They try to remove my hands from my ears but as each one touches me I push them off, scared of what they’ll do and scared of the sounds they’ll let in if I hear again. After pushing away their grasping hands the tears only flow more, all eyes are on me, even the patients in the beds around me are looking at me (the ones I can’t quite remember have a special look in their eyes and I can’t tell whether it’s pity or understanding).

Doctors are shouting commands and nurses are still grabbing my hands but despite my now weak frame, I spent weeks or months of blocking out the sounds they threw at me, refusing to listen but then they got inside my head.

This ordeal continues for merely a few moments more before all the doctors and nurses step away, I look at them confused through my teary eyes but then relief washes over my face as a familiar figure walks through the door. Finnick. He rushes towards me followed behind by a few others who run to other patients.

He wraps his arms around me but my hands still don’t budge from my ears until he reaches his hands up and places them on top of mine. His hands are calloused but somehow still soft, the corners of my lips upturn slightly before returning to the straight line.

He’s talking but I can’t hear him until he turns around and I assume yells at the doctors as they quickly scurry out of the room leaving only us and the other patients. He turns back and his eyes are on mine. He’s always had the most beautiful eyes, the green specks in the sea of his eyes, even if I forgot Finnick I could never forget his eyes. Gently, he grips my hands and slowly pulls them away from my ears, I resist at first but then relent, relaxing my arms and letting Finnick bring them down in front of us. He places a soft kiss on each of my hands before laying them down on the bed.

Leaning forward towards me he wraps his arms around my frail body, gently, careful not to hurt me. I rest my head on his shoulder before burying my face into the crook of his neck and wrapping my arms around his neck. My breathing is short and quick as I feel my tears dampen Finn’s shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind.

The warmth of another human is a feeling I have not felt for a while, it seems like forever. I can’t even remember how long ago it was I last saw Finnick but it was too long ago separated by what felt like years of constant torture.

He pulls back but his hands remain gently resting on my waist as I’m sat up in the hospital bed. He places his forehead on my mine and closes his eyes whilst I mimic his movements. This was something we always did, before we got separated and repeating our little ritual brings back not only happy memories but the most important and meaningful ones. 

“You’re okay now,” Finn says quietly, his forehead still resting on mine. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He says and even with everything that had happened recently, I believe him entirely. I nod slightly and gently as I can’t bring myself to say anything. 

“Are you okay?” I ask him, it takes a couple of tries to finally get the simple words out. Finn chuckles softly.

“I’m okay. You’re the one you should be worried about.” He says leaning back slightly to look at me. “How are you feeling?” He says now holding onto my hands again.

“Fine.” I croak out.

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

“What?”

“Anything.”

“No more than normal,” I say as an attempt at sarcasm but he only responds with a pair of sad eyes and a discouraged face. Silence fills the room for a couple of seconds but the sound of the machines hasn’t stopped. “When can I leave?” I say, my head drooping slightly at the high drug dosage.

“Not yet.” He says pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely looking at my disappointed expression. 

“I missed you so much…” I say quietly, placing my head on his chest. “The hope that you were alive and waiting for me somewhere was what kept me going.” I say, getting tearful again.

“I will always wait for you no matter where or when.”

-

AN: I know everyone's in their Hunger Games phase right now so I thought I'd contribute even though I'm in my Hunger Games phase all the time.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[pangborns]

I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before.

sejanus plinth x fem!reader.

in a last ditch effort to challenge his friend’s beliefs, Coriolanus puts you in danger.

warnings: tbh anything for the movie, angst, death, reader is hanged. lmk if I missed anything pls. (I know this is sooo short and tbh not edited at all, but I just wanted to post for my bby Sej)

His fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to look at him as he snarled at you. “Enough of this foolishness.” The blonde spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re going to tell Sejanus to call off the plan.”

Your eyes hardened as you tried to rip your head from his grip. “I will not.” Your gaze softened as you grabbed his other hand, “Coriolanus, come with us.” The pleading didn’t seem to get you far.

He laughed, humor lacked the gesture but he finally let go of your cheeks. Fingerprint sized bruises started to show under the candlelight.

You could still hear the beautiful voice of Lucy Gray performing in the next room over. And you suspected Sejanus was just starting to wonder where you had run off to.

Coryo wiped his hands anxiously up and down his dirtied PeaceKeeper uniform. He started to pace around the small room, hand now running through his recently buzzed hair. “I don’t want to have to do this.” He spoke.

“Do what? Coryo, you don’t have to do anything.”

Coriolanus chuckled, his Adam’s apple bobbing as sweat was now visible on his brows. “Call off the plan or I will have you arrested, (Y/N).”

Your face paled. The sound of song from outside was no longer comforting as all you could hear was your own uneven breathing. “What?” You spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He seemed torn. “I will do what I must to ensure my best friend does not become entranced by your ideas of treason.”

You took a step back, arms wrapping around yourself in comfort. You shook your head, tears starting to roll down your flushed face. “No, no I won’t.”

Coriolanus’ jaw ticked as he looked up at the ceiling, reaching for the handcuffs attached to his belt. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

The walk through the tavern was a blur. Your face was a deep red, the images of other District 12 citizens watching as Coryo escorted you out were burned into your brain. Lucy Gray’s song came to an abrupt end as she took in the scene.

“(Y/N)!” Sejanus hopped from his seat on a bar stool and ran over to the pair. “What’s going on? Coriolanus?”

“Sit down, Sejanus.” Coryo spoke quietly.

“What are you doing to her?” Sejanus grew angrier. “(Y/N), honey, are you okay?” He grabbed your shoulder, halting the duo as he looked you straight in the eye. A shy tear made it’s way down your cheek, being caught by Sejanus’ calloused thumb as he now cradled your face.

Coriolanus roughly maneuvered you out of his friend’s grip and out of the rickety building.

••

“They’re going to hang me, Sejanus.” You spoke softly, accepting your fate as you rested your head against the metal bars separating you and your love.

“That’s not going to happen. I won’t allow it.” Sejanus’ jaw ticked as he stood straighter, set on putting a stop to this. “Is Coryo involved in this?”

You hesitated, but that was enough confirmation for the boy. “He-“ You stopped yourself, thinking your next few words carefully. “He knows, Sej. After me, you’re next.”

Sejanus swallowed, eyes widening. “He wouldn’t do that, not to us.”

“That’s what I thought.” Your voice cracked, sliding to a seated position against the bars. He mirrored you, leaning his head against where yours sat.

The two of you breathed in a comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence before Sejanus made a move to stand. You looked up at his frown before joining him in his stance. “PeaceKeeper duties?” A small laugh.

Sejanus confirmed with a sad smile. “I’ll be back right after, I promise.”

And he was gone.

••

Cold tears drenched your puffy face as two PeaceKeepers dragged you through the crowd. You knew there was no use in fighting it, but your rebel heart couldn’t deny itself the effort.

You successfully elbowed one in the jaw, causing the other to spin around and knock you in the stomach. Your breath was immediately gone, leaving you gasping as other District 12 citizens watched on.

A familiar face. Lucy Gray.

You managed eye contact with the songbird. She knew who did this to you, you made sure of that. As the girl opened her mouth, making a move to stand up for you, you quickly shook your head. You weren’t going to drag anybody down with you.

Eventually you broke through the crowd, being met with the sight of the ominous wooden platform.

“(Y/N).” A broken whisper.

You looked up, meeting Sejanus’ eyes. He seemed to be stuck in a state of disbelief. Tears collected on his waterline, but refused to pour over.

The PeaceKeeper’s grips tightened as you froze. “Sej.” Your voice was watery, cracking as you tried to convince yourself you weren’t scared.

As the PeaceKeeper’s continued to yank you towards your inevitable demise, Sejanus took a protective step forward. Screw the Capitol, screw the PeaceKeepers. He had tunnel vision, hoping to get you out of harm’s way as effectively as possible.

A cold hand grabbed his elbow, successfully halting the boy. Coriolanus.

Sejanus watched through blurry vision as you shook while walking up the steps. He couldn’t will himself to move, not after Coryo’s firm hand was wrapped into his flesh.

His mouth parted, trying to form words as they placed you meticulously over the trap door.

You gulped, chin up, looking straight ahead. Feigning bravery was always your specialty, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to fail you now.

Sweet brown eyes met yours in the crowd. Once again, Lucy Gray hopelessly watched your doom play out. You gave her a subtle nod of appreciation and turned to your left, looking down at the two familiar PeaceKeeper uniforms.

Sejanus stood in front of Coriolanus, heartbroken as a million thoughts rushed through his head. Move, dammit! He tried to will himself.

You could just make out the small smirk playing on Coryo’s face as he realized he had won this round. As the scratchy rope was placed over your head, you focused solely on Sejanus.

The tears finally poured over, the both of you with matching looks of despair. “I love you.” You mouthed, before feeling the floor beneath you disappear.

The last thing you heard was Sejanus’ broken cry of your name.

[crazyhearttragedy]

Melting the Ice -Coriolanus Snow x Reader

AN: I just watched the ballad of songbirds and snakes and loved it. Hope you enjoy!

Snow stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, his stern gaze sweeping over the crowd of well-dressed Capitol elites. The air was filled with laughter, music, and the intoxicating scent of power. Yet, amidst it all, he felt an inexplicable emptiness. He loathed these gatherings, finding solace only in the corners and shadows, far away from the superficiality that dominated his world.

His eyes landed on you, a captivating figure that stood out from the rest. Your vibrant smile and genuine laughter reached his ears, capturing his attention like no one else ever had. You were a beacon of warmth in the icy sea of the Capitol, and unknowingly, you sparked something within him.

Curiosity mingled with trepidation as Snow approached you, his heart pounding in his chest. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise. "Coriolanus Snow! I didn't expect to see you here. Of course, I'd love to dance."

As the music enveloped you, Snow's hand lightly rested on your waist, and he pulled you closer, finding solace in the simplicity of the moment. With every step, his aversion to these gatherings melted away, replaced by the warmth that emanated from your presence.

As the night progressed, Snow found himself drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. He realized that he was no longer content hiding in the shadows. You ignited a fire within him, a desire for something more.

Weeks turned into months, and the bond between you and Snow grew stronger. He found solace in your company, sharing secrets, dreams, and fears that he had never dared to reveal to anyone before. In your presence, he felt seen, understood, and loved.

But as life often does, it threw obstacles in your path. The Hunger Games approached, and with it, the weight of the Capitol's expectation loomed over Snow. He wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between his ambition and his affection for you.

"I can't let go of my dreams, Y/N," Snow confessed, his voice laced with regret. "I have worked for this opportunity my entire life. I can't abandon it, even for you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you reached for his hand, holding it firmly between yours. "Coriolanus, I understand your ambitions, but is it worth losing yourself? Is it worth forsaking the love and humanity that we've discovered together?"

His heart felt heavy as he struggled to find an answer. In that moment, he realized the walls he had built around himself were crumbling, and he couldn't bear to lose the one person who had taught him the true meaning of love.

With a sigh of resignation, Snow pulled you into an embrace, his grip tightening. "No, it's not worth it. I can't let these games define me. I choose you, Y/N. I choose us."

With renewed determination, Snow started to make small rebellions within the daunting framework of the Games. He subtly used his intelligence and influence to protect the weak and the innocent, to challenge the cruelty that had permeated their world.

And as he fought for a sliver of humanity amidst the chaos, he found himself fighting for you too. Love was no longer a mere distraction; it was his motivation, his anchor in the storm.

Days turned into months, and a new Snow emerged. A man who wielded power with compassion, who fought against injustice, all the while leaning on your unwavering support.

Together, you navigated the treacherous waters of the Capitol, your love acting as a shield against the darkness. And in your arms, Snow found a sanctuary, a refuge from the brutal reality outside.

As the night drew to a close, and you shared a passionate kiss, Snow realized that for the first time in his life, he no longer felt winter in his heart. The ice had melted, and in its place, love bloomed.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 6)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Peeta is down by the river, camouflaged in the rocks after Cato slashed his leg and left him for dead.

“Ah ha ha,” Chaff smiles when he spots Haymitch with an entire pitcher of rum. “So this is how the Capitol treats it’s favorites.”

“Had to steal it off the cart.” Haymitch chuckles allowing his friend to slip in between him and Y/N.

“Steady now.” Y/N teases, a hand to his back until he’s seated.

Chaff knocks her shoulder with his own, “what’s the matter, baby?”

Y/N has nothing but love for her husband’s best friend. However they are two peas in a pod and when they get together…there goes all the liquor. Back home in twelve, Haymitch has been known to have a drink or two, still able to enjoy his wife and children. This place brings it all back, the horrible things he’s done, everything he failed to do. If he wasn’t drunk, he’d surely lose his mind.

“I wanna send Peeta medicine,” Y/N explains.

“Sponsors leaving you high and dry? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Not the sponsors, Haymitch made him a deal.”

“Who am I to disrespect this poor boy’s dying wish?” Haymitch quirks a brow.

“And his wish is to-”

“No parachutes. Save Katniss.”

“Katniss,” Chaff drawls.

Two of their tributes have formed an alliance. Rue and Katniss hatching a plan to blow up the career’s stash; lightning fires to draw them away.

“This green stuff is gonna smoke like crazy, as soon as it’s lit, move on to the next one.” The girl on fire warns.

“Ok,” Rue agrees, “we need some kind of signal; in case one of us gets held up.”

“Like what?”

“Here, watch this.” Rue lets out a tiny melody, which the birds rings back.

“Mockingjays.” Katniss realizes, “that’s brilliant.”

“We use them back home to signal the time.” Rue says, shifting the backpack on her shoulder. “If we hear that, it means we’re ok and we’ll be back real soon.”

“We’re gonna be ok,” Katniss pulls her in for a hug, running a hand over her hair. “Hey, I’ll see you for supper.”

————————————————————————

For once in her life Y/N is grateful for the Capitol broadcasting the action only, in the viewing room. A split screen between Rue lighting the fires, the careers chasing smoke and Katniss making her way to the cornucopia.

Clove and the others leave a single boy behind to keep watch. As the red haired tribute from five lily pads around explosives to steal food, the watchman catches her in his peripheral. Taking off after her into the woods.

Katniss lines up her shot, missing the corner of the apple net by just a hair. She takes a step closer, a few calming breathes later the tip of her arrow pierces the bag and out tumble all of the apples.

She’s blown back by the force of it.

“Oooh,” Chaff winces.

After a moment Katniss gets her bearings, heading back to Rue.

The boy keeping watch pays the price, Cato snaps his neck before giving him a chance to explain.

Rue is well on her way to light the last fire when she hears the explosion. Katniss did it. Then the trap set by the careers falls, she tripped the wire, a weighted net.

“Shit.” Y/N covers her mouth. Katniss…please hurry.

“Come on, Rue,” Chaff says, under his breath. “Work your way out.” He coaches, as if she can hear him. She does try, just like he taught her, but the net is too heavy.

When Katniss finds the final fire unlit, she whistles their signal.

“Get her out.” Haymitch rocks back slightly in his seat.

“Get her out.”

“Get her out.

“Get her out!”

The people of the viewing room echo. Y/N turns her head as the room builds to a collective chant.

“Get her out. Get her out. Get her out.”

It isn’t unheard of for spectators to voice their call to action. Though they are more concerned with the entertainment value than the life of the child.

When Katniss gets no response, she races toward the pile of sticks and leaves meant to start the last fire. Still no Rue.

“Katniss! Katniss, help.” Rue calls from beneath the net.

Katniss cuts her loose, Rue safe in her arms. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

The viewing room cheers are short lived. Marvel sends his spear flying, only to be met with Katniss’ arrow. When the cameras pan back to Rue…the damage is clear and irreversible.

Y/N excuses herself. She cannot watch, she cannot pretend, she cannot breathe. Scrambling into the nearest private room with the curtains drawn. Pushing them back with little care before realizing that it is occupied.

“You look ill, dear.” The Capitol woman gasps. “Come, sit down.”

“I’m so sorry to barge in like this.” Y/N apologizes, it’s not anyone she knows.

“Never you mind that, the pleasure is mine. Let me get you a drink.” The woman begins waving down a waiter.

Y/N grabs the ice bucket, “can I throw up in here?” Doesn’t matter, it’s coming up.

“Oh my stars, you poor thing.” She fans the victor as best she can, while continuing to wave one hand out of the privacy curtain. “Must be something you ate.”

“What can I get for you?” The waiter asks.

“Some water, to start and a fresh ice bucket.”

“Yes, right away.”

The woman takes great pleasure in ‘nursing’ Y/N back to health. With water and something close to a bland cracker.

These people are not inherently bad, Y/N realized that years ago. Conditioned in their belief and out of touch, but they are not evil. I don’t hate them…I hate what they do.

It’s not long before Haymitch is tearing back curtains to find her. Letting out a sigh of relief when he does.

“Haymitch, what a pleasure.” The woman holds out a hand.

“Great to meet you, love the dress.” He kisses the top of her hand, using it to guide her toward the exit, “give us a minute, will you?”

“But of course.” The woman is awestruck. The victors of district twelve, in her private room! Hailing over everyone who is anyone. Mouthing, “they’re in there,” motioning toward the fabric that separates them.

“I need you to listen to me.” Haymitch whispers, kneeling in front of Y/N. Wiping away any remnants of vomit and tears.

Y/N nods.

“Katniss gave that little girl a proper send off, you know as well as I do, the gamemakers and Snow aren’t happy about it.” She created a martyr.

Again she nods.

“I’m gonna talk to Crane, see what I can do for damage control.” Keep Katniss alive.

“Ok." Don’t let them kill Katniss.

“We’re gonna get you a mint and then I need you to walk out of here like nothing is wrong. Can you do that?” He tips her chin up, holding her gaze.

There is worry in his eyes, guilt and sadness. Her husband is afraid and he needs her. “Yes.”

“Good,” Haymitch gives her a reassuring smile, taking her into his arms.

————————————————————————

Katniss receives a parachute of bread a while later. After the silence is louder than the cannons and the artificial sun has set.

Haymitch is still negotiating, Y/N figures he must’ve sent it. Until she sees the note attached, from district eleven.

Y/N makes her way over to Seeder, sitting alone in the opposite corner.

“It was for Rue,” she older woman explains before Y/N can get a word out. “My district spent days scrounging up the money, the sponsors finally came through. We had enough to send some for Thresh too.”

“You could’ve sent him both.”

“My people wanted Katniss to have it.” Seeder informs her.

“I know she…appreciates their generosity very much.”

The answer is dry, rehearsed. Y/N is young and still does not understand. “I knew a girl once, she was kind and brave. She played the games and never let them play her. For the first time, I thought there might not be a victor. Because she was lying there, bleeding out and her partner was there, bleeding out…nobody was killing anybody,” she pauses. “Haymitch had to fight like hell to get you out of that one, they wanted your family-”

Dead. “I know,” Y/N stares down at her hands.

“I saw something that day, and I see it in her.” Seeder motions toward Katniss on the screen. “A good, genuine person with heart. They tried to snuff it out of you, beat it out of you; but I still see you. You hold onto your heart and you never let anyone take it from you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N blinks back tears.

“Attention, tributes, attention. The previous rules allowing only a single victor have been…suspended. Two victors may be crowned, so long as they both originate from the same district.”

All hope is not lost.

Part 7

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Sign Up Now Open! (Click Here)

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[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (III)

Part Three

18+ | NSFW |

Trigger warnings: PTSD, Gore, Death, Sexual Trauma mentioned

Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7

When I woke up, I was back in Peeta’s bed and not alone. Haymitch must have fetched him once I gave in to my exhaustion. He sat beside me in the bed, propped against the headboard trapped in place by my arms locked around his thighs, my head lying in his lap. Once again keeping him in anchored in place. His fingers ran through my hair tenderly, twirling within the curls and rolling them around his fingers. His right hand just above my forehead, the thumb stroking my temple as he hummed The Willow lullaby in his throat lowly.

Oh, my sweet Peeta.

I couldn’t help it when I nuzzled into his hand as his left thumb began to stroke at my cheek, shifting his hips so he could be closer to me. I wiggled a little as my eyelids fluttered and while Peeta’s humming stopped, his fingers hadn’t. My heart thudded wildly in my chest with the fear of having to face him. Ugh I am such a coward.

“Love”, Peeta called in that honey sweet deep hum of his

Biting my lip, I took a steadying breath and rolled to face him, grateful the curtains of my hair mostly hid my eyes as I peeked through my lashes at him. I relinquish my hold around his thighs and slowly draw myself from his lap in a sitting position beside him, my head still lowered.

How was I supposed to just talk about this?

Biting my lip harder, it took Peeta’s gentle hand on my cheek to snap me out of my inner turmoil. As I nuzzled into his warmth, his thumb slid under my chin tilting it up with ease so that I was now forced to stay trapped in the deep honey filled depths. His eyes saddened just the slightest in the pained blink he gave when he saw that mine were still red and terrified. His index finger slid back and forth across my plump bottom lip and I knew that even red and puffy he wanted to kiss me.

It felt criminal to wish that he would.

“We need to talk” “About?” “Us”

A sharp intake of air was the only answer I gave him. I was ok to talk about this.

“And our first games”

This I was not.

“What about it?” I snap defensively pulling out of his touch.

I don’t want him touching me when the grime of that time still coated my skin. Not those hands.

“I...I don’t want to upset you” “A little late for that” “I’m sorry about that. But, I want to be with you too much to let this be what’s keeping you from me” “Peeta please” “Not this time sweetness”, he shook his head as his blonde curls moved like waves against his forehead.

Mmm. His hair only looked like that when he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly in frustration. He did it a lot when he was stuck on a design of something those strong fingers created. I loved when it was tousled like that.

“First of all, you’ve always had permission to touch me however you wanted to since our first games. I don’t know if you remember but, I’m pretty sure I gave you explicit permission in that cave and again on stage in front of millions of people”

I searched my memory.

The interview.

I told Caesar about how I felt that I could keep Peeta and it gave me hope. I hadn’t wanted to elaborate on what I meant because I wasn’t quite sure myself. Peeta had lit up beside me, his body weight shifting so that he was domineering now dwarfing me with his body and energy on that loveseat. He had whispered it so huskily in my ear, his warm breath fanning against my neck in a way that made me grateful my thighs were pulled up tight on the couch firmly pressed together.

“So, now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

When I’d answered him, he’d kissed me with such passion I had the distinct feeling that he would have made love to me right there if there weren’t other people in that room.

“That was not an invitation” “I’m the one who sent it love. I’m pretty sure it was” he chuckled pulling me closer so that he could rest his forehead against mine “Oh sweet girl...I want to kiss you. Really kiss you”

When I didn’t move away his eyes widen a little before his right arm snakes around my waist and pulls me so that my leg is thrown over his, my left tucked on the bed between us. His hand is back on my cheek, my neck arching to meet his eyes. When had he gotten so much taller than me? I didn’t realize I’d licked my lips or been staring at his until his tongue flicked out and copied the action. A small pant of anticipation leaves my lips bringing a small smirk to his lips.

“We have to talk first”, he breathed. “Oh Peeta please” I gasp wanting to stay in this dreamworld he had me trapped in “I promise I’ll have my mouth on every single inch of you tonight” “Oh yes please” “After love”

With a huff I tucked my face into his neck for a minute attempting to calm down. Why was I giving in to my normally easy to stifle urges like this?

I took care of these thoughts I had about Peeta at home.

Alone.

I wasn’t vocal about this. I never admitted my craving for him like this aloud to anyone. What the hell was going on with me? My body still felt heavy, a small thrum like a hummingbird's wing going through my veins.

Morphling. That fucking Haymitch. Traitor.

Peeta turns me in his hold so that my back is to his chest, his large thighs like tree trunks on the outer of mine, fluffy and plump in comparison. When had he gotten so damned hunky?

Well...he was kind of always this way, wasn’t he? When he’d turned 17 and we went to those games I saw a completely different Peeta than I had 2 years before at 15 tossing flour in his parents bakery. Peeta was stocky and cut.

It made sense that every girl but me had noticed and wanted him, not being big on anything outside of survival. Not until I'd volunteered, slamming my hand over Katniss' lips as I violently yank her backwards into line. She had a family and honestly, most of our district to provide for. We hunted together but I had no one that needed me.

I was alone. I always had been. If I could save her then I could help the district stay fed. Even with me dead Gale and Katniss would still be alive to provide the meat for our people. A necessary sacrifice.

“Do you want me to touch you?” “Sometimes”, I admit before I can stop myself and just sigh in defeat knowing the morphling and alcohol has given me a loose tongue regardless. “I’d never thought about any of that until you’d kissed me in the cave. Something just different about that one. I could feel you really didn’t want me to go. I laid up that night going over every good memory I’d ever had. You, your blonde hair, the dandelions that always seemed to grow around you...were always in the background. It was in that cave I realized I’d always been watching you too”

His arms tighten around me and I wish I could see his face. He inclines his head and I can feel his wide grin against my cheek.

“Do you like me?”

I don’t know why but I start gasping for air, tears streaming down my cheeks in resigned guilt, his arms tightening nervously.

“Yes” “Do you love me?” he husks as his breath catches in his throat

I begin to struggle against his stronghold now. If I admit it to him, I can never stay with him. I need to run.

“This is what we need to talk about. Why are you running?” “I can’t. We can’t” “Because of what you think Marvel did to you?”

Now I’m hissing like an angry cat trying to get out of his hold. He barely had to use any effort to keep me still and I was still already almost out of breath. Marvel, the fucking Capitol. The list was growing of thing I didn't want to think about and tried to force myself to forget.

“He didn’t hurt you the way you think he did love” Peeta whispers in that honey sweet drop tone again

I begin to settle but he knows this is a façade and his grip does not slacken in the slightest. He knows me too well.

“Tell me what you remember about that night”

I am now totally still in his arms fighting against the vicious memories. ‘Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened?’. I know Haymitch is right so, with a shaky breath that steadies with the tightening of his arms around me, I begin to talk to Peeta about that night.

***

I’d killed 2 tributes who’d been on my tail that day and was bleeding pretty badly from one of them. A career. He’d had a curved blade that sliced me across my stomach from ribcage to ribcage.

I’d fashioned a needle out of my fishhook and used some of my own hair to stitch what I could up to staunch the bleeding, at least until I got to a bag with a real first aid kit in it. I bit down on some tree bark to staunch my screams and give myself something to focus while I stitched myself together.

My sponsors must have liked this.

I was done and washing the blood off by the river, delirious from blood loss (thankfully my was body in shock) when I heard the familiar beeping of a parachute. There was a note from Haymitch. It contained a syringe to give me a boost of some blood supplement to keep me going and a 3 oz jar.

HIDE & APPLY –H.

Whatever it was, he knew it would leave me open to attack. I’d need recovery time.

Injecting the needle directly into my neck I look around the bank hoping it has some rock caverns like the one further upstream does.

It doesn’t.

Shit.

Maybe I can make it there before the adrenaline wears off? I’d been looking for Peeta for most of the day when the Careers had caught up to me and I was exhausted. As I stumbled along, I found a nice one that was perfect for daytime sleeping too. Covering the entrance with twigs and leaves I dipped inside of the camouflage.

Once tucked neatly inside I lay my back against the left side of the entrance’s wall. Pulling my shirt off I unwrapped the bandages I’d hastily wrapped around myself and began to slather the blue ointment on generously. It had an instant numbing sensation before it felt like a cool jelly was rolling over the sutured skin. With a sigh of relief, I tucked the jar away, pulling my knife to sit on my thigh as the numbing sensation began to spread throughout my entire upper body.

This is what Haymitch was warning me about. I had to get away from the lip of the cave if I was going to be practically immobile for a few hours. Just as I’d begun to drag myself backwards to the heart of the place, I heard the sadistic cackle.

“Found you” Marvel smirked climbing in.

Adrenaline was always my saving grace at the worst of times and I was depending on it heavily right now. My hand was still around my knife so I slashed it at him with a roar of defiance, refusing to be killed this way. I’d nicked his cheek because he was a bit too tall for the cave but he was still stronger and I was weak from blood loss and medication. He’d knocked my hand aside, slamming my wrist against a stone to let it go, before pinning it above my head.

“Glad to see Clint didn’t get the tits. They’re hot” he panted

As I kicked and bucked beneath him his panting only grew louder, fumbling with my pants as he yanked them down my legs. Oh no!

If there was going to be any boy I’d ever let touch me, it would be....

“Peeta!”, I screech like a wild animal biting at the arm that held my hands pinned

I can hear his buckle going and my heart is practically pounding in my ears. They wouldn’t let him would they? Of course they would. They sold us to sponsors. The Capitol would love this. Star-crossed lovers ripped apart by Captiol favorites and tainted beyond repair before death. This was primetime tv. Oh but this would only air in the Capitol. A secret from the Districts about their taboo guilty pleasures.

I wanted to cry until my throat was raw but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He was pushing and yanking against me so roughly but, so much of me was numb and my consciousness was fading, it was hard to tell when I couldn’t even lift my head. With the very last ounce of strength left in my body I screamed loud enough to hopefully scar every single pair of ears watching for all eternity,

“I only want Peeta!”

As my eyes roll in the back of my head I see a flash of gold before I’m out cold.

***

“That’s what I remember” I breath still shaking in his secure embrace “Can you promise to listen to what I remember now? Please sweetness?”, Peeta coos softly in my ear

I hear Haymitch’s condescending yet honest voice in my ear, ‘Grow up.’ and the alcohol/morphling cocktail was helping ease my stubborn attitude.

“Yes”

It’s all I offer.

I don’t expect what he does next and it makes me understand why he’d yet to slacken his hold on me. He’s playing our games on a small screen at the end of the bed.

“No!” “You promised” “But I-” “It’s only about 5 minutes I promise. I even had Beetee help piece it together with me. Luckily, he was awake”

I trust Beetee. Beetee was always a friend. He’s one of the reasons I recovered so well from the trackerjacker torture with so much of my mind in tact. I’m still tense in his arms but I don’t try to run now. The assurance that an ally has helped him soothes my distrust.

Peeta continues the video.

It’s that night and Peeta is clearly tracking me. Had to have been the way I was him to find me once they made the announcement.

“I knew I was close but you move so quietly in the forest. I mainly had to track you through your snares and the wildlife I know you’d recognize”, he explains.

I watch him track me pretty well for someone who’d only been learning it for a week. It’s clear he only can because he knows me. Then his head snaps up. It’s clear Beetee made sure none of the Capitol commentary is on it, just the sounds from the games. I appreciate that. Then clear as a bell, I can hear my scream from the northeast.

He really wasn’t very far from me.

“That was my name”, Peeta breaths his hands shaking

Peeta’s wide body tears through the brush, towards the sounds of the scuffling where he heard the scream come from, unforgiving of anything in his path.

“Come on. One more time. One more time love!”, he was whispering under his breath.

He was at the river now, looking around wildly for any sign of me. It was clear to see his whole body was shaking as he fought his fear of the worst.

“I only want Peeta!”

It wasn’t more than 50 feet in front of him. That cave! He’d have never noticed it if he hadn’t heard me.

He bolted for it and I closed my eyes.

My breath hitched in my throat, not wanting to really see this from his point of view. I’d been in denial about this too long to have to face it like this.

“Open your eyes. Please. You need to see this” “I know what happened” “No, you don’t. I said I got to you in time. I wouldn’t lie to you about that” “Peeta...you have no idea how sore I was” “I didn’t say it wasn’t for lack of trying. He was trying but he was too excited. Scared. Inexperienced. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really give him time to explain himself”

Now I tilt my head up and nudge his chin with my temple forcing his attention off of the paused screen back down to my face. When his eyes meet mine, I search them for a while, seeing that honest gentility I’d always come to know from him.

“Prove it”

Peeta kisses my forehead before turning my face back to the screen. Now he’s threaded his fingers through mine as he holds his arms wrapped tight around me. I like this position.

“Ready?” “Ready”

Peeta bursts into the cave, looking around wildly before he looks down. Marvel isn’t aware he’s there yet as he’s cursing in annoyance and shifting his hips. Peeta crept closer picking up the knife I’d been forced to drop.

As he slunk to the left with deadly silence, he realized just what was happening. Marvel was struggling to try and penetrate me, his hands shaking as he kept just trying to shove himself in, his left arm on the wall behind my head to try and keep his balance while his right hand raked at my skin.

Peeta’s eyes go feral, his lips pulled back in a snarl and he drops the knife. The sound startles Marvel but it’s too late now. Peeta’s hands are around his slim throat and lifting him from my naked body as if he weighed nothing, slamming his temple into the side of the cave over and over, a wild fire in his eyes. Each time his head met the stone it making a sickening wet, crack.

Peeta picked the knife back up when Marvel slumped to the floor with a moan, part of his skull crushed. But Peeta was not finished. Peeta forced him to his knees, hands gripped tightly in his hair, yanking them by the root. He held him there before me, so he could stare directly at me through the streams of blood running down his face.

“Mine!”, he rumbles loudly in Marvel’s ear in a deep cadence I’d never heard from him, his honey eyes dark as night.

Before Marvel can blink Peeta slits his throat, letting his blood run over and at my feet.

It was as if he'd sacrificed him before me for the disrespect. Was it wrong to love watching him become such a force? To love that he'd do such a thing for me.

The games really have made me a monster, haven't they?

“You are nothing”, he sneers in his ear waiting for all the life to leave his body before dragging him out of the cave and kicking him into the river for the Gamemaker's to find.

Rushing back inside to find me Peeta quickly checks if I have a pulse first. He lets out a sigh of relief before taking the water jug Marvel had. He used it to wash the blood from my reopening wounds of my upper body.

“I’m sorry love. I promise I’ll cover you soon”, he apologizes as he cleans my body.

He rewraps my stomach wound and uses the rest of the bindings to fashion me a makeshift bra, for modesty's sake I suppose.

“I’ll make this part quick I swear. I’m sorry”, Peeta apologizes again softly looking into my sleeping face.

I know what he’s going to do. He has to double check, and get all traces of Marvel off of me. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out where the cameras would be placed, as he looks suspiciously around the cave, before giving up and just doing his best to shield me as much as he can. He’s on his knees, mine propped up over his and resting atop his thighs so that even if he could see all of me no one else could. He grabs the jug and a piece of his shirt he’d ripped to begin cleaning between my legs. He’s so gentle and serious as he inspects to make sure Marvel hadn’t actually penetrated me. He hangs his head for a second before mumbling to himself.

“She’s gonna smack me when she sees this”, he groans before taking his middle finger, gently and slowly slipping it within me.

My eyes narrow and I’m sure he feels my back stiffen, because his arms tighten slightly around me, to stop me from actually smacking him if I were so inclined.

Video Peeta lets out a deep sigh of relief before planting a kiss to my bent knee.

“You’re all good love. Impotence must be a Careers thing” Peeta chuckles to himself in a private joke.

Once I’d been fully cleaned by him, Peeta quickly dressed me in my pants and tucked me deep into the sleeping bag. That only lasts for a few hours because I’d begun to flail in my sleep calling for Peeta, threatening to open my wounds again. He never left my side after that.

I hadn’t realized I’d been hyperventilating until Peeta’s voice is calling out to me softly. Marvel didn’t. He couldn’t. Peeta really had gotten to me in time. I wasn’t a complete monster.

I wailed and slumped against his chest feeling boneless. Peeta turned me in his arms and began to lay kisses over my forehead and tear-filled eyes over and over before making me look into his again.

“I need you to understand something sweetness. Whether he had or hadn’t, it wouldn’t have changed a thing for me about you. I love you. Do you hear me? Someone hurting you wounds me; it could never disgust me. I kept my distance because I didn’t want to pressure you when I knew what he tried to do to you. I need you to want to give me all of you. To have you watch me drown in all of your pleasure as you let go and trust me with all of you. But that had to be on your time. To find out that you’ve been pushing me away all this time because of him...” Peeta’s voice cracks as his forehead lays against mine “I killed almost as many tributes as the Careers did in that arena Peeta. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I didn’t care how much a monster that made me. Then we got back...and the Capitol changed my eyes, my mouth and even tried my breasts before Haymitch took me from the surgical table in a rage. I’d become the monster they wanted. Marvel was under orders to take the last remaining shred of my humanity left. And I thought he had Peeta. Do you understand what that meant?” “Tell me” “My world was now darkness. You are light. You are air. All the good things in the world. Even having been cast into the darkness, you still outshined it. I feel like I’m standing in the sun when I’m with you. I couldn’t bring myself to taint the one thing in my life I’d swore to live and die for. Even when they were breaking my bones and trying to force me to forget the real you, I held onto that light. I knew no matter how dark my world got, as long as you were close enough to shine some light, I could breathe. But I couldn’t drag you into the darkness with me” “I would follow you to the pits of hell if it meant I could spend eternity with you”, he rumbled

Something in me snapped.

I didn’t give him time to move out of reach again. I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and threw my left leg over his so I was straddling his lap. Peeta responds eagerly, taking me into his arms and slipping his tongue under my top lip taking control of my passion as he hungrily explored my mouth.

He even tasted of honey and nutmeg.

Both of his warm hands slid up my back beneath my shirt, bunching it up higher and higher as he caresses my skin. It’s easy since it’s one of his and quite loose on my small frame but his hands are leaving trails of goosebumps all over my skin and I tremble against him unwittingly.

When he nips my plump bottom lip I gasp, my hips jerking so that I ground against him. That...that felt good. Capturing my lips in a heated kiss Peeta’s hips roll against mine and I see just why it feels so good. I can feel his length against the seat of my underwear. I whine in his mouth as a shuddering breath escapes his lips.

Leaning back to press my hips further into his I throw my head back and begin to roll in a steady rhythm with him. Just as I’m about to lean back up for another kiss I feel his lips enclose around my right nipple, his mouth so wet and needy.

“Peeta!” I croon with a jerk of the hips

His left hand cupped my breast to get a better angle and yes, he did. He laid wet, suckling kisses to my hardened nipple. With each suckling kiss he increased the pressure and extended the time he spent between them.

“I promised I would have my mouth all over you tonight baby. I intend to keep that promise”

Oh I had so many plans for that mouth tonight.

(Had to cut this one in half cuz it's LONG. Next chapter is straight smut I swear 😈😏😹)

[homeofthelonelywriter]

RW: Never again - Peeta Mellark x Reader

(A/N) Time for another request Wednesday! This one was requested by a lovely Anon. I really hope you find this and like it!

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader, Gale Hawthorne x sister!Reader

Warnings: cursing

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They won. They won!

A grin spread across my face as I turned to look at my older brother, Gale. Although he was never one to show a lot of emotions, a small smile was present on his lips, causing my grin to grow. Both of us felt relieved, that much was obvious.

His love for Katniss and my love for Peeta were the only things helping us to survive the past few weeks. The only things making us hold on to hope. And now it was over. They’d be coming home in just a few weeks and I could barely wait.

After celebrating a bit with our siblings and our mom, we made our way over to Katniss’s home, where we celebrated with Prim and their mom. Everyone in District 12 was relieved. Relieved and happy and excited. We haven’t had a winner since Haymitch and now we had two!

The preparations for Katniss’s and Peeta’s return started the very next day. Banners hung everywhere, displaying their faces and the joy could be felt in the air. The bakery that belonged to Peeta's parents even gave out treats, something that neither Gale nor I could believe.

The days passed and soon everyone was gathered at the train station, waiting for our victors arrival. The air was buzzing and as soon as the train pulled into the station, the noise grew almost deafening. The cameras were clicking and everyone was talking and cheering.

I was standing with Gale and the rest of our family close to the front. Apparently we were now related to Katniss. No idea who came up with that, but we accepted it, knowing that it, at the very least, came from the Capitol.

Soon, the doors opened and Katniss and Peeta stepped out, falling into the arms of their families. Still, they stuck close together. Even now, they kept up the front that they were madly in love with each other. And it was probably smarter that way.

As soon as Katniss was done with her real family, she moved on to us and soon we were hugging each other.

“I’m so glad you made it.” I squeezed her and a genuine smile was on her lips as she pulled back. She quickly mouthed ‘Thank you’ before continuing.

The whole procedure at the train station lasted for a few more minutes. After that, everyone that wasn’t family or close friends was ushered away. Katniss and Peeta gave a quick statement that they were happy to be back with their families and to have each other. And as they kissed at the end of it, a sharp pain spread in my chest. It was getting harder and harder to keep the smile on my face and I sighed in relief as they were shut off.

“Great! Now, the winners will be filmed entering their new homes for the first time. After that there will be an announcement to the public and a dinner at the city hall…” Effie kept on rambling on the plans for the rest of the day, hell, for the rest of the week, but I stopped listening as soon as my eyes caught Peeta’s.

A smile tugged on the corners of his lips and I myself broke into a grin. I was about to mouth something when Effie pushed past me, closely followed by the rest of the crew. As Peeta walked past me, his hand found mine and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“As soon as the cameras are gone.” It was a whisper, so quiet that I barely heard it, but it made my heart beat faster. I nodded in response and he was gone.

The cameras stayed for two whole weeks, filming everything they could. From statements from the victors, to dinners and Katniss’s and Peeta’s new everyday life. It was hard keeping up the front and I was counting the seconds until the train doors closed behind the crew from the Capitol. And as soon as they did, I made my way to Peeta’s new house.

Three knocks. I held my breath, waiting for the piece of wood in front of me to open. And when I did, I didn’t hesitate to jump into his arms. Peeta kicked the door shut, hoisting me up and pressing my back against the closest wall. His lips were on mine immediately, passion filling the kiss. My fingers tangled themselves in his hair, tugging on it, making him groan.

His reaction made me grin, reminding me on how much I’d missed him.

Much too soon, he pulled away. I whined, but he just chuckled, making me open my eyes. And the look on his face brought tears to them. His eyes were filled with adoration, love and relief, a gentle smiled spread across his face.

“I missed you.” Tears started running down my face at those words.

“I missed you too. So fucking much.” I leaned down again, pressing a gently kiss against his lips, both of us smiling.

We spent the rest of the day in his house, just lazing around, enjoying our time with each other. As it was getting dark, Peeta asked me if he should bring me back home.

“No. I want to stay here…if that’s okay with you.” He nodded, a grin on his face as he pressed another kiss to my lips.

“You can stay here for the rest of your life. I don’t want to spend another second away from you.” Yeah…neither did I. I nodded, smiling as I laid in his arms. Those arms I would never let anyone take away again…or so I thought.

[lvstcd]

no time to die ⟶ finnick odair & oc [part 2]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 |

A/N: this is for my pookie ookie bear rese <3 happy birthday bbg

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, smoking, pretty much all hunger games shit :)

SUMMARY: rhys marley was the youngest victor of hunger games, winning at the age of 12. 9 years later, she watches as president snow makes the announcement about the quarter quell, causing chaos for all victors in each district.

GENRE: angst, dystopian, fluff, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

oc - original character(s)

EDITED BUT THERE COULD STILL MISTAKES THAT I MISSED :0 LINKS FOR OUTFITS AND HAIRSTYLES ARE IN THERE IF YOURE INTERESTED.

lower case intended

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"THE male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

rhys freezes, her heart sinking to her stomach as her mother cries out in heartbreak, gripping onto rhys' father, "no! no, this isn't fair. my baby." rhys ignores her parents and stands up, running out of the victors mansion and through victors village, running until she cant anymore, stopping and dropping to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks as she lets out ragged sobs, struggling to breathe properly as she starts to panic, gripping at the grass on the ground to try to surround herself.

an hour or so later, rhys finally calms down and is able to catch her breath. she stands up shakily, walking back home, her cheeks red and tear stained. she hears finnick yelling from inside his home as she walks up her stairs, stepping inside her house. her mother immediately rushes to her and embraces her, brushing her hair. she hugs her mom tightly, too tired to cry anymore. she pulls away, walking away from her mom and climbing up the stairs to go to her room. she crawls on top of her bed and lays in a ball, her tired eyes staring at the wall. she closes her eyes, falling asleep.

she awakes the next morning, climbing out of bed and taking a hot bath. she shuts the water off, sitting there, before slowly sliding under the water, submerging herself. her mother knocks on the door, reminding her that she needs to get ready. rhys sits up, wiping the water off of her face and washing herself before climbing out of the water and drying off.

she throws on a denim jumpsuit with a heart shape cut out on the back, her pale skin showing. she throws her hair in a loose ponytail and slides on her boots, walking out of the house and towards the centre hall with the peace keepers, mags, finnick, and annie behind her. she stands beside annie, looking down at the ground as the announcer smiles and announces the quarter quell with an over enthusiastic voice.

"the female tribute is..." theres a long pause as the announcer grabs a peice of paper, opening it and smiling, "annie cresta." rhys looks up, looking at finnick. she watches his eyes widen and can physically see his heart break as annie lets out a strangled sob.

rhys looks between the both of them, "i volunteer as tribute." she states loud enough for everyone to hear her. she can feel finnick's eyes on her while she looks at annie, nodding at her. annie looks at rhys with wide and surprised eyes. rhys takes her place, standing there, while the announcer grabs a piece of paper for the male tributes.

"and now for the male tributes. the male tribute for the the third quarter quell is.." rhys stares at the ground, her fingers fiddling with the rings that she is wearing.

"finnick odair." rhys doesn't look up, but she can hear annie's sobs from beside her. they turn around and walk into the building, leaving the outside world. they're immediately brought to the train to head to the capitol. rhys sits down at the table, watching the world moving in a fast pace as they speed towards the capitol. suddenly, rhys feels a presence behind her.

"why'd you do it?" she looks up, seeing finnick standing there, "we haven't spoken in years. why did you volunteer for annie?" rhys lets out a breath, looking down at her pant leg, fiddling with it.

"because," she starts, "i see the way you look at her. if she dies, you wouldn't be able to live without her." she looks up at him, standing up, "if i die, you'll be perfectly fine." she walks away, leaving finnick standing speechless as she walks to her room, laying on her bed in a ball, drowning in her thoughts.

the next morning, they arrive to the capitol. rhys walks off of the train, finnick following behind her as he watches her every move, scared to say something. they walk in and are lead to their districts room. mags smiles at rhys, giving her a small kiss on the forehead. rhys smiles, "hi, mags," and hugs mags tightly, staring at the ground as she does so. she sits on the couch, finnick awkwardly sitting a few spots away from her.

"you don't wear your necklace anymore." he points out in a whisper. rhys looks at him and looks down at her chest, nodding. she hasn't worn the necklace in years. finnick had gifted it to her after they both won the games, inside was a picture of them as kids. after finnick had mentored annie and fell in love with her, rhys stopped wearing it. there was no point in wearing something that had no meaning anymore. not after he brushed her to the back burner and stopped thinking of her existence entirely.

they start immediately talking about rhys and finnick making allies out there in the arena. they go through every victor, when zephyr marley and peeta mellark pop up on the screen. rhys gasps, tears in her eyes, "no." finnick looks at her, confused.

"what?" he asks quietly, watching her. "s-she.. she can't be in the quarter quell she just won last year." finnick looks at her confused, "is that zephyr? your cousin that used to visit when we were kids?" rhys stares at the screen with tears in her eyes, nodding.

flashback

"i'm going to miss you so much, zeph." rhys says softly, looking at her little cousin. zephyr smiles sadly, wrapping her arms around rhys, "i'm going to miss you, too." rhys pulls away, wiping a tear, "i got something for you to think of me when you go back to district twelve." rhys smiles, pulling a pin out of her back pocket and pinning it to zephyrs shirt.

"what is it?" zephyr asks, looking up at her. "a mockingjay," rhys smiles at her, "i saw it at the market and immediately thought of you." rhys brushes a strand of zephyrs long black hair out of her face. zephyr hugs rhys tightly again, "i'll see you soon." rhys giggles, "see you soon, zeph."

zephyrs and rhys' mother watch them, smiling, "look at them. our yin and yang."

rhys watches zephyr on the screen, the mockingjay pin pinned into her shirt, a fake smile plastered on her lips.

the next day, rhys and finnick are being styles for the grand entrance for all the victors. rhys is dressed in a blue wrangled dress with her hair in a braided half updo. she stands outside of her buggy, ignoring finnick's presence as he spots zephyr, walking over to her.

"zephyr marley. rhys' little cousin, right?" he smiles at her, flaunting his charm. zephyr glances at him, her face emotionless as she looks at him, "you must be finnick odair. the infamous capitol playboy. how do i pay for the pleasure of your company?" finnick stares at her, his eyebrows furrowing at the distaste on zephyrs tongue.

rhys turns around, seeing zephyr, "zeph!" she yells, jogging towards zephyr and attacking her in a hug, her arms tightly wrapped around zephyrs body. she pulls away, a smile on her lips. zephyr smiles at her, "hi, yang." she smiles brightly, completely ignoring finnick's presence behind him. "you look beautiful." rhys gasps, looking at her dress and hair.

zephyr's wearing a beautiful black dress with her hair in a braided half updo with metal accents. zephyr gasps as she looks at rhys' dress, her eyes widening, "rhys, you look stunning." rhys goes to speak but haymitch comes over, "ah, there's the capitols sweetheart." he smiles at rhys, hugging her softly.

"you two know eachother?" zephyr asks, looking between the two of them. haymitch laughs, "oh yes, miss girl on fire, we do. during your hunger games last year, this girl right here became a sponsor to help you throughout your games. she ultimately saved you and peeta with all the gifts she sent to you." rhys looks at zephyr as zephyrs jaw slightly drops.

"rhys.. that was you? it wasn't haymitch this entire time?" rhys shakes her head no, "no, zeph. it was me. i knew what you were getting into. and i knew that i needed to do my best to help you." zephyr sends her a sad smile, wrapping her arms around rhys tightly,

"thank you." she whispers into rhys' hair, kissing her cheek softly. rhys smiles as zephyr pulls away and sees peeta mellark walking over. "you must be peeta." rhys smiles, holding out her hand for him to shake, "im rhys. rhys marley."

peeta smiles, "zephyr's big cousin right? the youngest victor ever?" rhys nods, shaking his hand, "that's me." all of the sudden, all of the stylists start to urge everyone to their buggies, the grand entrance about to begin. "i'll see you after." rhys whispers, sending a nod to zephyr and peeta before walking over to her buggy, finnick climbing on, offering to lend a hand to rhys to climb on. ignoring him, rhys climbs in.

"why are you acting like this?" finnick asks her softly, a hurt expression on his face, "i am still the finnick you know and grew up with." rhys doesn't look at him, her eyes focused on the buggy infront of them, "you're different. i don't recognize you." she says in a soft voice, ignoring finnick's eyes on her. he lets out a soft scoff, looking away from her as the buggies start to move.

"i don't recognize you either, rhys."

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[crybyemissamericanpie]

Academic rivals - Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (PT,1)

needed to put the story in 2 parts cause I wrote too much, and i cannot change first or anything, idk my tumblr is acting weird

TW: Mentions of death

Coriolanus Snow and Y/n Y/l, the top students of the academy,for years now. They didn't really hate each other,they just like a challenge, and with the hunger games coming up and both of them going to be mentors soon enough, the adrenaline just grew

Everybody is seated in the class room, the teacher calls the names out for the student then tells them their score and their grade "Coriolanus snow,99%, A as usual" The teacher says as she looks at Coriolanus with a small smile putting the paper in front of him, as she walks back she reads out"Y/n Y/l-"The teacher stops, as if she is double checking her reading"29%, F"Says the teacher, the small shock and disappointment in her voice could be heard as the students eyes light up and immediately look at y/n in silence, she puts the paper down in front of herShe looks down at it and the teacher goes on to say the other grades.

She starres at the F, with her head down the entire class until the bell rang, and Coriolanus came over to her desk as the last student left too"Didn't expect that" Coriolanus says, as he looks over her shoulder, his eyes observing her paper

They were academic rivals of course, but after all they've known each other since babies, they hid in the dark days together, and when the tests disappear they can real be friends

"So didnt i"she says, her eyes not moving from the paper, blinking a few times as her eyes feelt like it was burning a hole through the score and the grade next to it

"Is there a reason?why this was so bad?"Coriolanus asks, he knows there is no such a thing that y/n wouldn't study or didn't remember the test, he knows that something is on her mind

"The games"she says, her mind running off. She speaked her truth, no matter if Coriolanus would take adventage of her weakness, making her think about the game more so she would be humiliated at the next test again

The games, it was the 10th game of the Capitol putting kids in an arena, then watch them fight to stay alive for their own enjoyment, or 'to remember what has the districts done' at the rebellion, it was stupid

"Stressed?"he asks,Coriolanus himself didn't know what to think of the games, he thought it was smart that they used it to show power, that they are still stronger than the districts no matter what

"Scared"She replied,the only thing scary wasn't just to watch kids fight to death but that she might get attached to her tribute and what if they can't win after all its 1 vs 23 , expect if they make allies, but either a disease, thirst, hunger, poison or a tribute is gonna kill them no matter what, it was cruel

"You're too smart to be scared about that,it haven't even begun"Coriolanus point out, that makes Y/ns head turn"yeah I don't even know which kid do I have to see die" She barks at him, frustrated a bit

"And..-and what if your tribute won?"Coriolanus tries to make this more positive"still gives them trauma"She replies as her eyes stares into his, as she observes him a bit more

Was he gorgeous, she thought, he was always fine, his blonde curls, his blue eyes,kissable red lips, he could steal anyone's heart in a heartbeat, oh but was he clueless, she thought again, he was always like every capitol born, agreeing with everything the Capitol does, even when not saying it out loud she knows. But he isn't like the Capitol themselves, yet.

Coriolanus sighs giving up to fight for his own opinion and to make it a bit happier, he straightens up a bit, fixing his red uniform"I'll see you later"says Coriolanus, not even waiting for her answer, he walks out of the room, leaving her alone in the cold classroom

[coryosbaby]

Life Lessons

Synopsis: helping your best friend fuck your girl can’t be that weird, right?

♡ Content warning . Threesome, pnv, anal (f recieving), degradation, sub! Reader, switch! Coriolanus, dom! Sejanus, creampie, multiple orgasms

Notes: a lil switch! Bisexual! Coryo moment?! Maybe.

Sejanus is his best friend.

Coriolanus’ thoughts run wild with these words, and he thinks consistently and wonders incredibly why his best friend has allowed him to do this— or why Coriolanus himself agrees to this in the first place. Your thighs lay open, skirt and underwear discarded on the bedroom floor, as Coriolanus sits between them. Your cunt is achy and swollen, begging for a cock to fill it while Sejanus lays underneath you. His dick sits throbbing inside your ass as he waits for Coriolanus to slide himself into your wet heat. He waits patiently and coos into your ear as you squirm on him.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Give him some time, baby, okay? Coryo’s new to this, he’s learning.”

Yes, ladies and gentleman, you heard that right: Coriolanus Snow, the handsome, perfect, golden boy of the capital, is a virgin. And now, he’s letting his best friend’s girl pop his cherry.

And sure, his ego is deflating right now as he strokes his cock and watches Sejanus’ experience. He’ll get that ego back up, though, once he learns. He’ll make sure he outdoes Sejanus in every aspect— he’ll show him, alright.

He growls at that comment, perceived as a snide remark to the blonde even though Sejanus didn’t mean it that way. His cockhead drips with precum and he rubs over it with his thumb as he presses himself against your entrance.

“Shut up, Sejanus,” he grunts. “Know what I’m doing..”

And obviously, he doesn’t. His cock clumsily slips against your hole, making you whine and clench in an attempt to suck his cockhead into you. His chest heaves and he lets out a frustrated sound. But not before his brows furrow and he’s saying, “What are you doing?” to Sejanus as the other boy tries to reach out and touch his cock over your shoulder. He pulls his body out of reaching distance, and Sejanus rolls his eyes and attempts to grab him again. Coriolanus slaps his hand away, confusion glazing his features. Calmer now, Sejanus holds out his hand and his eyes grow soft as Coriolanus’ face flushes with embarrassment.

“Cmon,” Sejanus says. “Trust me, Coryo.”

And he does. He trusts him so much that he can’t have room to trust anyone else. So hesitantly, shyly, he grabs Sejanus’ fingers after a moment, and settles them around the base of his cock. He moves his hips forward as Sejanus easily finds your hole without even having to look. He presses the tip of Coryo’s cock into you, and his mouth falls open at the new sensation. You look up at him with doe eyes, and although your true love is Sejanus, you’re happy that you can help Coryo take what he needs.

“Fuck..” Coriolanus grunts, shaky, pressing himself further and further into you. “Is it always this…tight?”

Sejanus chuckles, lifting his hips as if remembering the feeling of your cunt.

“Always. Especially with her. She’s always grippin’ my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” And then after a moment, a small grunt sounds from him as he grips your ass cheeks in his hands. “Even back here.. still has such a tight little hole.”

Coriolanus groans, his hips rocking into you. His balls press against your skin, and he’s all the way inside now. But it feels so good, he doesn’t want to blow his load in the next five seconds, so he goes as slow as possible. You mewl against Sejanus as he begins to move, his cock pummeling your tight little asshole while Coryo begins to speed up his thrusts in your weepy cunt. He can’t help it, now. Your pussy feels too good.

Sejanus watches as Coryo grabs your thighs desperately with his hands, and smiles.

“That’s it. Fuck her just like that.”

And god, Coryo knows it’s fucked up but Sejanus’ approval just makes him even more desperate. He grunts as he watches your cunt swallow him whole.

“Coryo,” you cry out to him. “Please, hard. Wan’ it hard in my pussy, give it to me..”

Coryo becomes confident, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah?” He whispers. He begins to pummel you, skin slapping skin, shoving his nose right into your neck, and he doesn’t care if he isn’t giving Sejanus room to move. All he’s thinking about is how good your walls feel wrapped around him. “Greedy bitch wants another guy’s cock in her tight little pussy?”

You moan, nodding your head yes, and sejanus’ hands wrap around your neck suddenly. His cock twitches in you, the sight of his girl getting fucked by his best friend turning him on a lot more than he cares to admit.

“Kiss him,” he breathes. “Kiss him, baby, let me see.”

And of course you obey, your lips colliding with Coriolanus’ desperately, your tongue scraping the roof of his mouth as throaty moans sound from him. His cock kicks, once, twice, and he’s cumming and it’s the greatest sensation he’s ever experienced in his life as he fills you up rope after rope with warm, sticky cum.

Looking down as his orgasm slows, he looks at your blissed out face, the sudden orgasm providing him satisfaction but not quite enough.

No, this isn’t enough at all. He needs to fuck you more, he needs to use you over and over until he trains himself to fuck you long and hard. He growls, grabbing your thighs and pushing your legs over your head as his sensitive cock moves inside you again. From this angle he can see Sejanus’ cock too, slowly but surely rutting into your ass.

“Slut,” Coriolanus spits. “Fucking slut. Look at you, you just love being fucked like a useless little bitch, don’t you?”

You cry out, the sensations too much but you know you still need to cum. And luckily, there your sweet boy is— Sejanus, his fingers reaching around to hastily rub at your clit. Coriolanus grunts, pushing his fingers away and replacing them with his own.

He rubs them in fast circles, and your pussy pulls taut as you orgasm all over his thick length. Coriolanus grins, proud of himself as he sees you fall apart.

“That’s it,” he says. “Good girl. Cum on my cock.”

Your tongue lolls out, and the man spits onto it as he pounds you, fast thrusts soon giving way to slower ones as his hips stutter and he creams inside you for a second time. He relaxes against your wrecked body, sighing out as he pulls out and his cum spills out of your raw fucked hole.

His eyes connect to Sejanus’, and the boy seems proud but also angry. Coriolanus gets the message to move out of the way, and with strong arms Sejanus lifts up your body and slams you down onto the mattress. His cock moves desperately, chasing the high he’s been craving, and he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back as he fucks you from behind.

All the while, his jaw is clenched and he’s looking at Coriolanus with a fire in his hazel eyes. He has a bone to pick with him later for taking his girl’s orgasm as his own.

And as he watches the blonde’s cock get hard against his stomach for a third time, he knows exactly how he’s going to solve it.

[your-averagewriter]

Hi,

Can I please request a young!Haymitch x reader where they’re both in the 50th Hunger Games and they team up and there’s like romantic tension (+ some rivals to lovers) and they end up having a steamy make out please?

Word count: 3.4K (I got so carried away here.)

Warnings: Blood, weapons, murder, death, usual Hunger Games warnings, kissing, make out session.

“I think we should work together.” I say, planting myself down on the seat in front of Haymitch.

“And why would we work together?” He says, bringing the fork full of food to his mouth.

“There’s gonna be 48 kids in that arena, do you really want to go in there alone?” I ask him.

“Why would I team up with you?” He asks as if I’m disgusting.

“You know me.” He looks at me unconvinced. “Well, sort of know me. Know of me then.” I correct. “We’re from the same district, similar age and I’ve got a good set of skills. I could be a good asset to you.” I say, with less confidence than I intended as this boy towers over me, even sitting down.

“What skills do you have?” He asks, still doubtful and rightly cautious of me.

“I can track, animals or people. I can identify most if not all plants and roots and I can prepare them for eating. I can also hunt with minimal tools, I only need a blade, the size doesn’t matter.” I say with a smile, content with my pitch.

“And you want to be allies?” He asks.

“Yes. You and me until the final five or six.”

“If we get that far…” He chimes in.

“Yes… If we get that far.” I sigh. “So, what do you think?”

“I’ll work with you but I’m not gonna put myself in danger for you.” He says, with a dark, snarky tone.

“Okay.” I say and chuckle slightly nervously. Having Haymitch with me not only offers me a bit more protection but company and companionship.

“In training tomorrow we can figure out more of a strategy and how this is gonna work.” He says signalling to the two of us. I nod, happy that he’s changed his mindset.

“I’ll see you then.” I say, hopping up from my seat, grabbing a bread roll and leaving the room but not before Haymitch stops me.

“Also, this is exclusive.” He signals to us again. “Don’t go partnering up or inviting other people.” He says and I nod before leaving the room.

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

“(y/n).” I hear someone whisper as I enter the training room. Slightly overwhelmed by the sight of masses of armed kids in the room and the loud noises they’re all making I turn around, slightly stressed looking for the voice. “(y/n).” I hear again although slightly louder this time and I manage to clock the direction of the voice. Turning to face the voice I’m met with Haymitch sat on one of the benches sharpening a set of knives.

“Hey.” I say quietly, walking over with a smile and sitting next to him. “What are these for?” I ask.

“You. I wanna see how good you are with them.” He says, focusing on the blades.

“I thought we were going to plan a strategy.” I say, confused.

“We can’t plan a strategy if we don’t know what each others’ skills are.” 

“Okay.” I say and he stands up, gripping the knives.

“C’mon.” He says and I follow him blindly towards one of the stations. We move to stand by the throwing mark, luckily the station is unoccupied. “Go on then.” He says passing me three blades for the three targets.

I step forward to stand on the throwing line and take a deep breath before preparing the blades. Each one I throw hits right in the centre of the target (the meaning on the target has taken on a much darker meaning after being thrown in these Games). I turn around to see Haymitch with a small smirk on his face causing a hint of a smile to emerge from mine.

“I told you I could hunt.” I say and tries to suppress his smile.

“You did. Okay, you’ve held up your end of the deal, my turn now.” He says and I follow him again through the training room to the weapons rack. Collecting an axe he walks over to a different station to present his skills.

He prepares to throw and hits the bullseye quite impressively and I cheer for him despite him looking back at me with a scowl which only makes me chuckle. It’s funny how an action so small can make you forget about having to fight to the death. 

“That was impressive, where’d you learn that?” I ask.

“I didn’t ask where you learnt to hunt in a district lacking in nature so don’t ask me where I learnt my shit.” I’m taken aback by his response and the abrasiveness of it.

“Sorry.” I say quietly and trail behind him again, suddenly all too aware of the eyes following us.

“It’s fine.” He says reluctantly, the depth of his voice finally revealed. “Let’s just get on with the strategy.”

The next few hours were spent either eating (lunchtime) or spent planning for the arena: tactics, plans, strategy, weapons, everything. Luckily during our planning session he relaxed a little and we ate lunch together (separate to the other tributes, there’s no point getting to know people who we’re gonna kill or will get killed).

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

Today’s the interview day which means a day packed full of fancy clothing and fake smiles. Every year we’re forced to watch the Hunger Games and nothing feels more fake than the interviews. This year because it’s a Quarter Quell and there’s double the number of tributes we’ve been paired with another from our District so Haymitch and I are getting interviewed together. 

I’m smothered in perfumes and fragrances and a dress is fitted to me, needles prodded in me on multiple occasions. It’s a fairly horrendous dress - it’s black and form fitting with trails of rock  like material symbolising the coal mines of District 12. I’ve got red lipstick and a fairly generous amount of blush.My hair is pulled back and pinned as tight as they could without pulling it and similar black “gems” are dotted on my head.

Rolling my eyes, I walk out of the dressing room to go and meet Haymitch (who is hopefully dressed better than me but I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re matching) in the tribute queue. I walk through the corridor and curse the black gems stuck to my eyelid preventing me from blinking without them irritating me.

I find the queue and look for Haymitch.

“Haymitch?” I question, craning my neck to see down the line.

“Down here!” I hear him say, sticking his hand out from the line, waving.

I make my way down the line, careful to look out for Haymitch as I trail past the districts, a slight wobble in my step because of the unnecessarily large heels.

“Hey.” I say, finally reaching the end of the line, tripping slightly at the end on my dress but mostly because of my heels.

Haymitch reaches his arms out grabbing onto my hands so I don’t properly fall over. I feel his warm palms against mine and manage to restabilize myself.

“Thanks.” I say, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You look… beautiful.” He says, looking up at me and still holding onto my hands just a little more gently.

“Really? I hate the dress.” I say looking down but luckily the excessive blush covers my natural blush. “The lumpy bits are so tacky.” I say, looking at the things that are meant to represent coals.

“Okay, maybe not the rocky parts…” He says trailing off with a chuckle.

“I can’t believe you don’t have these stupid rock things on your suit, that’s so not fair!” I say and he finally releases my hands to straighten his tie. “You’ve only got the little gems on your tie!” I point out and cross my arms in frustration.

“It’ll be fine. We’re last anyway so most people will have stopped paying attention by then so no one will even care.”

“You don’t think anyone will watch?” I ask, slightly down about it and he seems to ponder the question. “How will we get any sponsors?” I say, disheartened.

“I’m sure our scores of 9 and 10 will help there.” He says with a small smirk referencing our private training sessions that were assessed.

“We did pretty well.” I say.

“Now, you’ve just gotta look pretty and answer their questions with a smile. Shouldn’t be too hard.” He smirks.

“Only if you turn on the charisma and show everyone your dashing smile. Maybe then we’ll get sponsors.” I already have a smile on my face.

“You’re making this too easy to win.” He replies, a smirk planted on his face.

-----------

After a successful interview filled with smiles and sponsors and small flirtatious comments we finally got to sleep, ready for what the next day had coming: The 50th Hunger Games.

I wake up the next morning and after choking down some bread and butter we’re all sent straight to our prep teams then off to the arena.

I get to talk to Haymitch once more before we’re thrown into the arena so it’s our last chance to finalise our plans.

“As soon as we get in the arena you don’t go for the Cornucopia - I’ll grab what I can from the outskirts before meeting you by the edge of the forest or whatever it is, the edge of the Cornucopia. Got it?” He asks, holding onto my hands and emphasising the plan. I try to listen to him but the nerves make it harder and harder by the second.

“Y-yeah.” I manage to breathe out but I can feel my heart thumping in my throat.

“You sure?” He asks, aware of what I’m feeling, at least partially.

“I’ve got it. Basically run.” I say trying a smile but only managing to upturn the edges of my lips. He nods and grips onto my shoulders grounding me before we’re separated.

In my tube (separate from Haymitch) I can’t help a hopeless feeling overwhelm me before we start rising. Finally in the arena, I survey the area, it’s woodland which optimises both our skill sets and offers us resources. My eyes scan across the tributes, searching for Haymitch, he’s a little less than half way around the circle of tributes meaning our positioning could be better but it could be worse.

Looking behind me I check for possible meeting points before spotting a backpack which we were told includes a water bottle, rope, a small weapon (likely to be a knife) and possibly a sort of medicine, bandages or food. My mind replays the conversation I just had with Haymitch about running but the bag is so alluring. Our chances could be greatly increased by the contents of that bag so I make the decision as the countdown starts to race to grab the bag before running.

The clock is counting down and as it reaches the lower numbers I prepare to launch myself off the podium but I’m careful not to step off before the countdown is up.

As soon as I hear the gun fire I dart off of the podium towards the bag keeping an eye on the tributes around me. A lot of them ran but because there’s a greater number of tributes a greater number ran towards the Cornucopia including, surprisingly, me.

Sprinting across the field I feel my heart thumping in my chest, terrified of the prospects of a battle but desperate for the chances the backpack could provide. I get to the bag and reach for it, wrapping my fingers around the straps and hoisting it onto my back before shooting back away, towards the treeline but I feel someone’s hands on my shoulders pushing me to the ground. I fall and knowing it’s not Haymitch I try to roll over and squirm away only to be met with the smirking face of one of the District 4 boys. My chances at life diminish as time goes on and I feel the tears fall down my cheeks as he makes mocking remarks and motions, shoving a knife in my face - playing with me. I try to move out of his way but he has me pinned down by my shoulders and he’s sat on my torso, legs around my waist.

I try to push him off and when he budges, falling off of me I know that it can’t have been because of me. He’s at least twice the size of me, at worst three times.

I look around and shuffle backwards hurriedly trying to remove myself from his grasp. Once I’m out of his reach I turn around to see him being tackled by another boy who then knocks him out but I’m not sure whether he’s dead or not as there’s so many cannons going off it’s hard to tell who's is who's. Now scared of this unknown boy who just beat up my attacker I shuffle further, stumbling as I try to get to my feet but he turns around to reveal a familiar face. Haymitch. I let out a small sigh of relief before he’s running back towards me, grabbing at my arms and yelling at me to run.

I shake my head, slightly, snapping back into the Games realising that these moments define our lives or our deaths. He grabs hold of my arm and I’m careful to grip onto the bag as we run. We make it to the treeline and I watch him turn his head quickly, looking for the other tributes but he makes sure to keep it brief and turns, pulling me into the woodland with him.

We run for what feels like forever but could’ve only been a matter of minutes. There’s no noises other than that of the cannons and our fast breathing, and I swear that I can hear his heart beating over mine. His hand remains securely lodged in mine, careful not to release me as we make our way further into the forest, for I’m not sure how much longer.

After a few more minutes, Haymitch’s pace slows down and I’m glad it does because my lungs feel like they’re gonna explode.

He slowly lets go of my hand as we draw to a stop in a grassy, wooded area. Immediately, I fall to the floor, on my hands and knees to try and catch my breath whilst he stands leaning over, his hands on his knees, gasping like I am. Whilst I can run, I’ve never run like that before.

Dumping the backpack beside me I notice that Haymitch has a large cut on his calf. I quickly open the backpack, desperate to see that it was worthwhile running for the bag. I start pulling items out of it: a rope, water bottle, small set of knives, a bundle of bandages and a wound cleaning kit. I sit back on my heels and feel a sense of relief as I make my way towards Haymitch. 

“S-” I swallow, clearing my throat. “Sit down, please.” I say quietly, still struggling with my breath.

He sits down on the grassy floor and I shuffle towards him, preparing to clean and bandage his wound. “I’m sorry.” I say, quietly, ashamed that my quick thinking got him hurt. “I’m so sorry.” I say and I struggle to focus on the medical equipment in front of me when my tears blur my eyes.

He doesn’t say anything so I move to clean his wound.

“I thought I was gonna die.” I say, my voice cracking slightly. “He was mocking me, had his knife in my face and that.” I say, finally in control of my breathing, my heart rate still too high. “He would’ve killed me if you weren’t there.” I say and pause looking up at him even though he’s not looking at me. “Thank you.” I wrap the bandage around his leg, careful to tie it tight enough but not too much. “I owe you my life.” I say. “I hope I can repay you one day.”

“I hope you can’t.” He says and I look at him, confused but also happy that he’s talking.

“What? Why?” I say getting up after finishing with his leg.

“I don’t want you to die for me.” He stands up a mere moment after me and finally looks me in my eyes.

“You just put your life on the line for me. You could’ve died.” I point out even though it’s obvious. “Because of me being stupid and not following the plan.” I say with a frown. “You said you wouldn’t do that.” I say, remembering the conversation we had when we first became allies. “You said you weren’t gonna put yourself in danger for me.” I repeat his earlier words.

“Yeah, well, things change.” He says.

“What changed?” I ask, my hands threaded in my hair, stressed out by both the conversation and the situation we’re in.

“I changed.” He says before leaning in towards me and tentatively placing his lips against mine, it’s experimental and he pulls back after a few seconds, nervously. My eyes are wide and my mouth lies open, confused but also in awe of what just happened. It takes me a few moments to process what just happened before I see Haymitch staring at me, looking slightly disheartened by my reaction.

“Forget about it-” He starts and turns to walk away but my hands reach for the sides of his face and I pull him back round so his lips meet mine again. This time more fervently and with a sense of desperation and longing. Now it’s his turn to look confused but he quickly gets into it and his hands move to find their place on my waist. He deepens the kiss, his lips desperate against  mine, determined to make the most of these moments. One of my hands stays cupping his face whilst the other moves to the back of his neck where I find myself playing with the tufts of his hair.

After a few more seconds I pull away, needing to breathe but I place my forehead against his as we both breathe in unison. There’s a smile on my face, the feeling of stress has now been replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach - butterflies as some would say.

“You do seem to have changed…” I say with a quiet laugh.

“Shut up.” He says, suddenly embarrassed by his previous words before pushing his lips against mine harder than before,

The force sends me back a little bit due to my surprise but his hands on my waist reassure me of my safety as he pins to a nearby tree. The bark is rough against my back but I can’t say that I care when his lips are on mine. His lips move roughly against mine and I gladly allow his tongue entrance as it presses against my lips. Mingling with mine, his tongue pushes through my lips and seems to search through the corners of my mouth. His lips are dry but so are mine after our run. He pulls away only for his lips to meet the skin of my jaw, he peppers kisses along my jaw but makes sure each kiss has all his attention and care. 

I tuck my head to the side, embarrassed at how bare I am, standing, pinned against a tree by a boy I only really met a week ago.

“Don’t hide your face, love.” He says and the pet name at the end makes me feel weak and my knees suddenly become wobbly which doesn’t seem to bother Haymitch as he just holds us both up - one of his knees pushed against the tree, between my legs to keep me up. I look into his eyes as he’s focused on my jaw, making his way up my face to my lips once again with nothing but desire consuming his eyes.

“They’re watching.” I say quietly, indicating with my eyes towards the cameras hidden amongst the arena.

“I don’t care.” He says between kisses. “Fuck them.” He breathes out as he presses his lips against mine with one of his hands trailing down my torso to my leg, stroking the plush skin of my thigh causing me to feel hot and flustered, the feeling tingling and travelling through my veins and making my body hot.

“Fuck them.” I say, quietly against his lips, feeling him smirk against mine.

-

AN: I really enjoyed writing this, it was such a good request and I loved it so I hope you do to! Thanks for the request!

I got a bit carried away with this piece, I only intended it to be about 1,000 words but it turned out at three times that much.

[daisydaisybilly]

be enough? | h.a

pairing: haymitch abernathy x gn!reader

summary: Reader watches Haymitch propo

word count: 500 ish

warnings: mentions of what happens to desirable victors, death (what happened to haymitch’s family), swearing, angst and fluff

a/n: written in 3rd person, wanted to try something new 😅 hunger games trending has me really thinking of new fics @nebulablakemurphy haymitch fic also a big inspiration (finnick mini series maybe 👀 been playing with an idea for awhile too) Everyone needs to read it.

Very unsure how to feel about this, feedback is highly appreciated

I saw this prompt and thought it was very haymitch

In the control room they watched the screen nervously, the capital was seeing the same thing but would no doubt they would be watching with interest. That had always been how they viewed the tributes and victors, like they all were animals in a zoo.

Finnick had just finished his propo when Haymitch took stage, with a frown the other district 12 victor looked to a guy working the computer. “He agreed to this?”.

The tech guy gave a shrug, “up top said he had something to say”.

Still worried they looked back to the screen, Haymitch had been sober since reaching 13, it was hard at first for both, having to watch him almost broke their heart. But he had risen through the detox and became an almost new man.

“You’ve already heard what Snow did with the wanted Victors, but what you don’t know is what he does when you say no” Haymitch said. He went on to say how everyone he had loved was taken from him. The small details had been known to them, how the way he had won the games cost him his whole family.

By the time Snow was done he was no one to threaten Haymitch with, so he became an example. This is what will happen if you don’t agree.

His jaw tightened. Something was happening in his head, choosing what words to use. He laughed dryly. For a moment they thought he was having a breakdown live for everyone to see.

“For the last 15 years I have been in love with my fellow mentor” the room fell into a hush, all eyes found them, standing still. “The rebels will win and you will not need to live in fear, stand up and join us”.

Something else played but they couldn’t say what, was he even telling the truth? It wouldn’t be the first time he had come up with a lie to move a crowd. Even themselves weren’t a stranger to lying.

Someone called their name as they turned and ran from the room. They ran up all the stairs until what they guessed was half way when they ran straight into Haymitch. He caught them before they fell.

“Watch it sweetheart,” he laughed.

Eyes wide they stepped back, “was it real or not real?” They asked.

Haymitch nodded, watching them.

Their chest shook. “Why did you never tell me?”.

“It was a personal issue,” he shrugged.

“You being in love with me kind of also involves me." They exhaled. They looked down the never ending stairs, then back to Haymitch. “I wouldn’t have expected anything. Not kissing me, not touching me. Fuck we wouldn’t even have to live together. Just you”.

“What kind of love would that be?” he mumbled, his blue eyes shining.

In return they grabbed his jacket and held up close, “enough. I would have you and that’s all I’d ever need. Wouldn’t that have been enough for you?”. His reply didn’t come come, the tears were slowly starting to fall now. “No don’t answer” you shook your head, “this isn’t easy, i know that I do”.

You brushed away a tear from his face.

“When they war is over and we have nothing to fear, i’ll tell you those three words and eight letters and we’ll go from there, okay?”.

“Okay”

[crazyhearttragedy]

Promises For Life - Gale x Reader

Gale could see the tears streaming down your face, and it broke his heart. He had always thought of himself as a tough guy, someone who could handle anything that life threw his way. But seeing you cry was like a punch in the gut. He hated it.

"No, don't cry," he said, his voice low and full of concern. "I hate it when you cry."

But you couldn't stop. The tears were coming too fast, and they seemed to be fueled by a deep sadness that you couldn't shake. You had just received some terrible news, and you didn't know how to deal with it.

Gale put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. He could feel your body shaking with sobs. He hated feeling so powerless, unable to make things better for you.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle. "Tell me, maybe I can help."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. You leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and comforted.

"My mom," you whispered. "She's sick. Really sick."

Gale's heart sank. He knew how much your mother meant to you, how she was the only family you had left. He didn't know what to say or do, but he knew that he couldn't just stand there and watch you suffer.

"Come on," he said, his voice firm but kind. "Let's walk."

He took your hand and led you outside, into the cool night air. The stars were shining brightly, and the moon was full. It was a beautiful night, but you couldn't appreciate it.

Gale walked with you in silence for a while, letting you cry and letting your emotions run their course. He was there for you, and he would be there for you as long as you needed him.

"I don't know what to do," you said, finally, your voice shaky. "I feel so helpless."

Gale stopped walking and turned to face you, his intense gaze fixing on yours.

"You're not helpless," he said, his voice steady. "You're strong, and you're brave, and you're going to get through this. And I'm going to be here for you every step of the way."

You looked at him, feeling something shift inside you. He was right. You were strong. You weren't alone. You had Gale.

"Thank you," you said, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. "For being here. For not leaving."

Gale took you in his arms, holding you close.

"I'll never leave you," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I promise."

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Prologue)

Haymitch x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

The Sixtieth Hunger Games will begin in five, four, three, two, one.

“Mom.” The boy at his mother’s bedside whispers, “Mom.” He shakes her shoulder lightly. She’s dreaming again and now, at the age of nine, he understands why he must be careful when waking her.

Y/N gasps, springing from the mattress, prepared to fight. But then she sees him. Everest, her sweet boy, forged in his father’s image. There is no denying, he’s her husband’s child through and through. “Sorry, sweetheart.” She sighs, letting both hands drop to her sides.

“S’ok.” He shrugs, stuffing worried hands into his pockets. “Dad’s with Arista, she’s pretty upset…doesn’t want you to go.” I don’t want you to go.

“Well,” Y/N forces a smile. “We don’t want to go without you either.” It was just like President Snow to demand they have children and then drag them away each year to mentor the games. Everest and Arista have only been required to join them in the Capitol for fanfare. The games are not about them anymore.

With Y/N aged twenty-nine and Haymitch forty, the novelty of their winnings has worn off. The most fascinating thing about them now is this, their love story and the family created from it. The anomaly that is Y/N Abernathy, Mayor Undersee’s eldest daughter, plucked from the reaping bowl at age fifteen. The girl who once hated her drunk of a mentor and grew to love him as the years passed.

The Capitol adores her, she is their darling. People hang off the edge of their seats, feasting on crumbs, anticipating her next move. What will she be wearing? Which victors sit within her inner circle?

Haymitch allows this, encourages it even. Because it keeps her safe. There is no cost too great. Y/N is everything Haymitch conditioned himself not to want. Snow knows exactly how deep his hooks are in. Killed Haymitch’s family because he didn’t appreciate the way he won the games; with an axe to the force field. Gave him a new family to dangle over his head years later.

Unfortunately for Haymitch, the cost of these theatrics means allowing Y/N’s former stylist to preen over her on reaping day.

Y/N can hear Vanity being ‘warmly’ welcomed by Haymitch on the first floor.

“Come on,” Y/N pats her son’s cheek. “Let’s go.”

Everest grins, racing toward the stairs. They do love their mother’s stylist and they only get to see her twice a year, if they’re lucky.

“You sure that headpiece is getting through the door, V?” Haymitch remarks, watching as the chandelier like dome attached to her skull pushes its way into their home.

Vanity scoffs, “good to see you too, Haymitch. What did you do to my darling?” The blue haired woman gasps at the sight of his five year old daughter, all but hysterical.

“I’m leaving her,” Haymitch sighs, shifting the little girl lightly in his arms.

“Tut, tut, my love.” Vanity coos, “Daddy will be back soon.”

“I want my Mommy to stay.” Arista sniffles, “you can’t take both.”

Everest reaches the bottom stair, saving Vanity from having to respond when he launches himself at the Capitol woman.

“Now this is a welcome,” Vanity ruffles his hair. “Look how big you are, my goodness.”

“I’ll be ten soon.”

“How the time flies.” Vanity catches sight of her victor. The first and only. “Y/N.”

“Hi.” Y/N smiles, wrapping both arms around herself. She is wearing a long sleep shirt with mismatched bottoms. The other woman is surely appalled at the sight.

“Let us…” Vanity’s eyes, unnaturally colored by contacts, flit about her, “get to work.”

————————————————————————

This year there is a bit of excitement at the reaping. Their female tribute actually volunteered, not something people really do in twelve. But it was for her sister and when it comes down to it, if Y/N was put in a position to choose between her little sister, Madge and herself facing the games, she would’ve done the same.

Y/N’s parents will tend the children until they return, same as they have every year since the kids were born. Leaving them never gets any easier, especially if one or both is crying when they go. Y/N steps onto the train to the Capitol, still in her ridiculous mirror ball of a gown. Waving their children goodbye.

Haymitch is there, tense hands resting at her shoulders. “They’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Y/N nods.

“We’ll be alright.”

“I know.”

Part 1

[carnationhes]

find a place where there’s room to grow

Katniss gives herself a haircut