#tom blyth x reader

[phantomamour]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞)

senator!coriolanus snow x personal assistant fem!reader - previous parts

cw// self-doubt/consciousness, panic attack, confessions - finally finished this and i'm so so happy about it. i have a few ideas for little spin-off fics (admittedly some smut in there too...) but no clue when they will happen so i'm very happy to have the main story completed. it's one of my babies <3

President Ravinstill was stepping down at the end of the year. The announcement took the Capital by storm; every politician worth anything was scrambling to put their foot in the door of the upcoming presidential election in the late spring. Coriolanus’ schedule was meticulously filled to the brim with meetings between himself and several potential campaign managers, thanks to you, and every day felt like a step closer to the end goal you knew he had envisioned for himself so long ago. You didn’t doubt that he could do it for a second, watching each potential manager walk out of his office with their head held high, assuming they’d be working with the future president by the end of the month. It wasn’t until one afternoon, as you overheard chatter from the small group awaiting the elevator, that you questioned your future role in Coriolanus’ presidency.

“His assistant would have to be replaced, certainly.”

“Of course, we’ll hire someone else immediately. Someone more competent, perhaps.” A seed of doubt had been planted under your skin with their harsh words. You never backed down from the challenges that being a senator’s assistant had provided you. You were sure you lost more sleep working for Coriolanus than during university, but you also thrived under his employment. Almost two years had passed since you started at your small desk outside his office, and you wouldn’t trade a second of it for the world. 

Days passed as you continued to spiral about the notion of your termination. You watched every potential manager closely, looking for any hint of their doubt in your abilities. But most of all, you wanted to watch Coriolanus. You certainly thought you had proved yourself, and now you feared he could share that same doubt with the others. 

Your desk started to feel like a place of shame with every person who walked by. Did they know something you did not? Were you failing without even realizing it? Surely you’d be gone by the end of the month. Perhaps even the end of the week. That train of thought brought you into Coriolanus’ office without an idea of what consequences might come from your following words. Coriolanus’ head snapped up to the sound of the door shutting, eyes widening at the sight of you standing before him. 

“I think it’s quite unfair that you’d fire me when I’ve worked unbelievably hard for you. Not once have I faltered in my position, even when you and everyone else have challenged me. I know how you like your calendar and coffee and what dry cleaner you prefer. All of these details that another assistant would completely overlook, but that I know by heart.” Coriolanus couldn’t move. He just watched as you ran a hand through your hair, clearly more and more frazzled by the moment. He had no idea what you were talking about. Firing you? He wouldn’t do it even with a gun to his head, truthfully. Yet once you opened the floodgates to the emotions that had grown deep roots in your chest over the last few days, you couldn’t stop what else poured out with it.

“But if that hard work hasn’t meant what I thought it did, then I think it’s only fair to get it off my chest before you fire me, that I think I love you.” He wasn’t breathing. Surely he misheard you, but you continued, “All your stupid mannerisms and likes and dislikes and habits that I have memorized, and they-they aren’t really stupid because they’re you! And I really like you… And your cat that you won’t tell me about! Because I think you like keeping me on the edge of my seat, trying to figure out more of these little personal details about your life that no one else knows. Which fine! Maybe I love it too because loving you is…” Your voice started to falter, realizing what you were confessing, “Loving you is like… a present that I keep getting to unwrap and… and love more and… more.” Your voice trailed off as the anxious feeling in your chest replaced itself with a deep dread.

If you weren’t fired before, you had to be now. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending completely fried as you watched him stare at you from his desk. He could see you starting to shake, the air in the room escaping you as it dawned on you the full severity of your confession. You wanted to defend yourself, defend your role, but you only gave him more reason to fire you. The group by the elevator called you incompetent, and now you swore you could hear them questioning your professionalism in your head as you opened your mouth to speak, and a broken whisper was all that came out.

“Oh god… I’m… I’m sorry.” You turned to leave, but Coriolanus was rushing up from behind his desk to stop you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the door. Your hand��no, your whole arm–was trembling in his hold. The fear in your eyes was something he’d never seen before; you thought your entire life was imploding right in front of your eyes, and to Coriolanus, he thought it might only be the beginning.

“Who made you think I’d ever fire you? Give me a name.” You could barely breathe, tears pooling in your eyes as you shook your head.

“That’s what you’re focusing on from that?” You sounded so breathless, voice breaking as you fought back the tears that were blurring your vision. Even through the fog of tears, you could see the soft smile Coriolanus offered you, moving a hand up to cup your jaw. The feeling of his skin against yours eased some of the tightness of your chest as you gasped for breath, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone.

“Of course not. But I will need a name, and you need to take a deep breath, sweetheart.” He’d never seen you so worked up, so overwhelmed by your own emotions and the thoughts that had made it nearly impossible to sleep. You were having a panic attack; he could see it in the glassy look of your eyes, and he waited patiently for you to take a deeper breath to reassure you, “I love you, too.” 

The force of your next breath nearly made your knees buckle as he pulled you into his chest and smoothed out your hair. He whispered a soft count for you to follow. One, two, three, four… four, three, two, one. Again. It seemed muffled in his hold, but he brought his lips down to your ear to speak more clearly, “Breathe, darling,” while he guided you to the small leather couch in the corner of his office. 

“C-coryo-” you tried to speak as he sat you down with him, letting you press yourself flush to his side before he shushed you softly. 

“I’m here. It’s okay. Try to relax. That was a lot, darling. You’re okay. Just breathe with me,” he whispered, rubbing gently up and down your back to ground you. You were still trembling down to your bones as if caught in the pouring rain in the coldest parts of winter when he pressed his lips to your hair. He couldn’t help his smile when you started to melt into him more, your breaths evening out to match his own. The tension in the room began to dissipate, a new kind of unfamiliar comfort taking its place. Even though you had wanted it for much longer than you’d let yourself admit, it was strange to know he shared the same feelings as you in any capacity. You didn’t get to mull it over long, however, before he tilted your chin up to look at him.

“I don’t tell you about my cat because you asking me questions about her gives me an excuse to ask more about you in return for my vague answers.” Oh. All this time, you thought he was keeping you at an arm's length, and truthfully, he had been trying to bring you in closer.

“You don’t need an excuse to ask me things you want to know. I’ll tell you anything.” A small smile graced Coriolanus’ face again, the room brightening around you two as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. A comfortable silence ensued, the two of you looking at each other, taking in the details of his face. The sharp edge of his jaw, the soft curve of his cheekbone, his full lips. 

“Her name is Juliet… my cat. I’ve had her for three years. Perhaps you were right about the aloof detail but she’s more aloof than me,” he whispered softly. The corners of your mouth tugged up in response; he was letting you learn more about him and it brought a warmth to your chest you weren’t sure you’d ever quite experienced before. 

“That’s sweet. I knew you were a cat person.” He laughed in response.

“You know more about me than anyone.” You felt the room grow smaller around you two as his gaze travelled down to your lips, all the air in your lungs being sucked out under the weight of his stare. Would his lips be as soft as you thought they were? There were an alarming amount of nights, even daydreamed afternoons, that you had considered the thought. What would it be like to kiss Coriolanus Snow? It kept you up at night and distracted you on the weekends. You were hopelessly head over heels for the man and now could believe he might feel the same way in return. 

He caught your eyes on his lips and lost any hesitance he could have had before leaning down to kiss you finally. He smelled like the bottle of bourbon he kept in his office. He tasted like the coffee you had brought him that morning still. You couldn’t help melting into him, wanting to be closer, wanting to feel him against you. All he could think about was the way you leaned into him as he pulled you from his side into his lap. Your thighs caged his as you straddled him, your fingers carding through his hair and loosening his curls. His hands slipped under the fabric of your shirt around your back to press you flush to his chest as you sighed so sweetly against his lips. He could kiss you for the rest of the time. He was sure of that. Now that he’d had a taste, he’d never be able to let you go. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart.”

“I was really hoping you were going to kiss me after the Christmas gala,” you whispered in reply.

“I should have. I really should have. You looked so breathtaking that night.” He melted underneath you, remembering the sight of your red dress and the tipsy giggles you had let out around him that night. You smiled against his lips and he swore it was the most addicting feeling in the world. He could hoard you in his penthouse like the most beautiful jewel in the Capital. He’d dress you in the finest things and spoil you beyond belief. But he couldn’t imagine being Senator, let alone President, without you there to assist him either.  

He pulled your head back just so he could look at you again, taking in the sight of your swollen red lips and the blissful look in your eyes that matched his own. He could feel the sticky texture of your lip gloss on his lips and he didn’t think he could let you go. Not that night in his office and surely, never in the future. You were his and he was yours. 

The two of you left the office late that evening, having spent an alarming amount of time just lazily making out, relishing in the loving touch of the other. You woke up that morning in a blissed-out daze, getting dressed and smiling like a fool as you stopped into the cafe for Coriolanus’ coffee. To your surprise, he had beaten you to the office. 

“Good morning,” he smiled as you set down his cup. If you hadn’t already been smiling, you think the pure force of his own would have overwhelmed you. You had seen Coriolanus through many emotions, but this happiness, this joy, was new. You aimed to only increase it as you handed him the reports you had grabbed from your desk.

“Your meetings today are on the lighter side. Another potential manager and a call with the Minister of Defense,” you gave him a moment to look over the papers before adding, “You have a dinner to attend tonight as well.” You smiled as he looked back up to you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He couldn’t remember there being a dinner on his schedule for the week. 

“Which diplomat wants to speak to me now? Or is a manager trying to woo me?” You felt giddy getting to tell him what you had done. 

“Well, I’m not a politician and I don’t think I need to woo you. But I would like you to take me to dinner tonight. It’s on your calendar. I got us a reservation already.” If he wasn’t charmed by you already, you had shot him like Cupid in that moment, his stomach fluttering against his will. He couldn’t help loving the way you took charge, how you ordered him around as if he wasn’t a Senator, soon to be President. Yet, even as you did, you were never once cruel. He didn’t think you could have a cruel bone in your body. 

“I see. I look forward to it. I still need that manager’s number you told me about yesterday.” 

“What for?” you tried not to sound as dreadful as the pit in your stomach felt at the mention of the people who doubted you so openly. 

“I need to tell them they aren’t getting the job,” he smirked, “You can listen if you'd like. I’m not entertaining anyone’s offers if they have anything negative to say about you.” The butterflies in Coriolanus’ stomach now matched the ones in your whole body. You had known he was protective. You had seen glimpses of the glares he shot the other senators at galas when their glances at you lingered too long. But to hear him voice it, to hear him defend you out loud, was something else entirely as you tried not to smile too wide. 

“Of course, sir. I’ll have it for you soon,” you spoke softly before turning to leave. Just like yesterday, he was standing and rushing around his desk to grab you, pulling you back to him after a quick glance at the closed door and pressing his lips to yours. You were quickly learning just how touch starved he must have been as he gripped your hips to press you closer while you melted into him. Kissing him was intoxicating. You swore you were lightheaded and tipsy as he pulled back to give you air. 

“Wear something red tonight,” he whispered.

“Don’t I always for you?” you smiled back. There was the confirmation he had needed for the last two years. The final piece of the puzzle that made up your partnership; you wore something red every single day since your first week. Today it happened to be your skirt, blood red as his jacket and the pride that shone through him as he toyed with the fabric on your hips was worth having to invest in far more red than you had ever owned before all those months ago. 

“Wear a tie tonight, Coryo,” you whispered back, playing with his collar, smoothing out the fabric against his neck. Hearing you call him the soft nickname nearly made him shiver. If it weren’t for the previous night, the confession you two shared, he was certain he’d be disgusted by the warmth in his chest looking at you. But now he nudges his nose against yours lovingly. 

“Why a tie?”

“You look very handsome with a tie,” you whispered. Coriolanus was all too endeared by the giddy undertone of your voice, matching the smile tugging at your lips as you added, “and I like the idea of tugging on it and dragging you around with me.” That got him to smile in a way he didn’t think he had in years. He could picture it now. Your intoxicating tipsy laugh as you tugged on his tie to kiss him. Your excited eyes as you would watch him give in to you. Him on his knees as you used his tie to drag his face closer-

“You don’t have to drag me. I’ll follow,” he interrupted his own thoughts before pulling you in for another kiss. It took everything in you not to mess up his gelled hair for your own enjoyment of his curls. You wanted to see him as he was and little by little, you were unwrapping him. You only hoped that spending more time with him alone would finish tearing off the precious composed wrapping paper he so proudly displayed to the Capital. You wanted to burrow into his skin and never let go. Perhaps you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. 

He reluctantly let you go, hands trailing after your hips once you stepped out of his hold. You were unraveling him and he was relishing in the feeling of it. He hadn’t felt so vulnerable in years and yet, there was a comfort in it with you. A knowledge that you had the right interests in your heart. Not the purest perhaps—you were set on him winning the presidency still—but the ones that mattered to him most of all. That was a trust he valued so deeply with you. 

“I like the frame by the way,” you smirked, pointing to his desk as you stepped toward the door, “ I always wondered what you did with all of my little notes when I didn’t see them in the trash.” His gaze followed your direction to the small frame made of dark wood and glass, with a single piece of paper inside. He had come in early to dig it out from deep in his drawer; he didn’t need to hide it anymore. His smile didn’t falter even once you had left the room and he sat back down behind his desk. 

The little yellow piece of framed paper stared at him; the start of something he didn’t know would be so valuable at the time. He was extremely grateful for whatever little voice nagged in his head to hold onto it all that time ago. He could have lost it to the trash forever. But instead, it sat proudly on his desk. A reminder of what shockingly seemed to matter the most to him.

Good morning, Senator Snow. I look forward to working with you. 

[itrainswhenurhere]

[francixoxoxo]

please 🙏🏽🤌 some billy smut where you guys can’t find any alone time and are making out against the damn barn or something so have to settle with a quick and frantic shag in his truck … i love how you add their banter and them giving each other shit but it’s so flirty

Anon I like whatever’s up with u but um I got carried away sorry this blurb is more of a fic atp

just a quickie in the chevrolet..

modern billy x farmers daughter reader

mdni; fingering, p in v, semi-public (car sex)

more of a long long blurb or a short short fic sorry to everyone with eyes sorry to everyone with reading comprehension

God knows how you got here, your hair tangling between the siding of the barn and Billy’s frantic hands, your brain dizzy with a need for oxygen, but more insistently a need for this man. You two were being so unbelievably stupid.

Maybe, actually, believably— Billy was, after all, the one who had given you a pointed look over the head of the ranch hand he was moving cattle with, muttering an excuse to sneak off. The one who was waiting for you when you followed a minute after him behind the barn, his arms crossed as he paced back and forth. You broke the pendulum, as his stride quickened to grab you by the face into a nearly bruising kiss. You should’ve expected it. You hadn’t had even a blink to yourselves in almost two weeks— he was getting antsy. he mumbled a joke you nearly didn’t catch, between hungry kisses, “y’got me stealin’ company time, y’know that?”

He was such an ass.

Speaking of which, his hands travel downwards, smoothing over and then grasping the curve of your ass. You can feel the hardness in his pants, he’s not trying to grind into you, but he’s a little too big and a little too close to go unnoticed. You let a quiet sound slip in a gap in the kisses, and there he goes, pushing his erection into where your thigh meets your hip. Oh, so, so stupid! “Billy.”

He grunts in recognition, his lips still trailing over your chin, smattering frenzied kisses down to your jaw and the side of your neck. “Billy, we’re outside.”

Billy gives you this wounded look, like you’re kicking him by denying him kisses, reminding him where you two are. On your dad’s property. In broad daylight. Making out in secret like some horny teenagers. He fumbles for a fix to this world ending problem. “You have a bedroom, don’t you? Can’t we take this there?”

“My room, down the hall from my daddy’s room, you mean?”

“Then the barn,” Billy says quickly and definitively, as if trying to find a fast resolution more than a logical one. “We’ll be quick.” It’s just not an option to back down, for him. You groan in disgust.

“On the hay?” Now it’s your man’s turn to huff at you, raising his eyebrows as if to sass, obviously not on the hay. But it only lasts a moment before he’s pressing his lips thoughtfully. It’s clear he wants you. You want him, even if you’re busting his balls. As you talk, his erection is just inches away from the wet, warm mess he’s brought on in your underwear. You’re about to just say fuck it, yeah, I’ll do it with you on hay, on the ground, wherever, just as long as it’s in the next minute.

He presses another kiss to your lips, not so much to distract but to keep himself satiated. His hands move to curl around your waist. His voice takes on this pleading tone, drawing you in like a fish on a hook. “M’truck, then. Come on, baby, y’know y’want to.”

So, so, so so so stupid.

Before you know it he’s opening the passenger door for you, looking over his shoulder before crawling in the same way. Very inconspicuous. You scoot on the bench seat so that your head is against the window, letting your legs fall open in a way that Billy can slot into like a jigsaw. And he’s on you in a second.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Billy mutters between kisses. You’re fumbling at his belt, really not getting anything done, he shooes you off. Straightens up onto his knees and hurriedly undoes it himself. “Don’t know how to buckle a belt?”

“I do, asshole. Just not when there’s a 200 pound man on top of me.”

“200 pound?”

“I don’t know, who cares?” You huff, out of breath. Definitely not Billy, anyway. He’s content to actually let something go for once in his life, kiss you roughly, let you unzip his fly. His hands only leave your hips to pull off the straps of your tank top, just settling with tugging the material around your waist and revealing your bra.

You try to drag down his jeans and boxers but he stops you. Leaning away from your mouth, he gives you this look, his hand snakes down twixt you two and undoes the button of your jean shorts. Just enough to give him room to quickly slip under your panties and roll his thumb over your clit. His middle finger gently pushes against your hole without entering. Ass. “Jesus, you’re wet.”

“Your fault,” you breathe, only some of the attitude gone. Your arms wind around his shoulders. You glance over his broad upper half to try and see if anybody’s around to see Billy’s bare back leaning over you with flushed cheeks. Thank god, no. He takes your mind off of how public you two really are by pushing a finger into your warmth to the last knuckle, not slowly, nothing here is slow, but considerate of you. A shuddery breath leaves your lips. Billy’s serious for once while he curls his middle finger in you, watching your lashes flutter as he fucks his digit into you hurriedly, but at a steady pace.

He gets frustrated pretty quick with the limited space your Jean shorts have to fit his large hand, slips out of you for one rushed moment to practically rip them and your ruined panties as far as he can in the truck, as if he’s personally offended by them.

When his attention comes back to your pussy his finger slips in much faster, drawing a sharp gasp from you. There’s this look in his eyes, you can only name it reverent. He swallows hard at an almost inaudible moan torn from you when he sinks in another finger. You know he wants to slow down here, he wants to spend hours loving you nice and lazy, but you two don’t have that luxury.

He swears to himself that he’ll bring you to his place tonight. In the meantime though, he scissors his fingers in you to try and stretch you out, not too hard but with an urgency that translates to a louder moan leaving your lips. You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide when Billy meets them. He laughs from his chest, reaches behind you and rolls up the windows when your noise reminds him they’re open a crack. You can’t resist your own giggle, muffled by your palm, but that too delves into a moan when he finds (with too much ease, bastard) and curls his fingers into that spongy spot. “I thought you didn’t wanna get caught, baby.”

You huff, though it’s very difficult to keep your fire with Billy literally finger fucking you. “Shut up.” That’s the best you got right about now. Billy just gives you that stupid, smug grin and catches your lips in a rough kiss. A knot coiling in your belly tightens to fray, threatening to snap in that familiar way only Billy had ever brought on. You have to push his hand away from twixt your thighs before you come from just this, you know you’d never hear the end of it. “Just— come on, hurry.”

Billy doesn’t make you say it twice. You fumble to unclasp your bra, smiling at the way he double-takes as he unzips his fly. He pushes down his jeans, along with them his boxers, you catch Calvin Klein across the hem. Once again, he settles with just leaving his clothes bunched around his ankles, in favor of using those precious seconds to line himself up with your hole and slowly sink in.

In fact, this is the slowest he’s done anything this whole ordeal. For once theres no rushing, no grabbing frantically for eachother, no cussing at uncooperative clothing. His forehead smushes to yours, you watch his lips fall open as he watches himself disappear into your warmth. Your arms unwind a bit from his shoulders, hands grabbing at the muscles of his back. “Holy fuck,” he grunts, against your lips.

“Holy fuck,” you agree, caught between smiling and your jaw dropping in a moan when Billy bottoms out. Jesus, is he deep. His hands hold your hips, smoothing upwards as he gives you a minute to adjust. Well, more like twenty seconds flat. You’re still against the clock.

he suddenly remembers your tank top still bunched around your waist, pulls it over your head and throws it on the dash. Takes a lingering second to look through the windshield and check if anybody is coming. His broad upper half covers you almost like a blanket, shielding you in case somebody does pass by, because even though he talks big game about showing you off— he doesn’t want anybody to see the way he can get you to act. That’s for him, not nobody else.

When you nod, eyes you hadn’t even realized were closed until a second ago opening and staring doey-eyed up at Billy, he starts to move. Suddenly all that urgency is back in his touch; his hand pins on the seat just inches from your hip, holding himself up so he can fuck into you proper. One of your hand twists in his hair, holding taut in a way that brings a grin to his lips. “Billy, shit—“ he knocks the words right out of you.

Billy was a gentle and slow lover, typically. Here? In his Chevy, in broad daylight, parked in a lot owned by your dad? He pounds into you hard and fast like he’s trying to make sure your pussy remembers him. His free hand is frantic, moving from gently holding the cusp of your breast, to squeezing the fat of your hip, to rubbing at your clit, his lips smattering wet kisses along your jaw messily and oh so desperately. You would feel bad for the way your nails dig into the skin of his back if he didn’t groan at the feeling, his thrusts only kicking into higher gear.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Billy admits in a heavy pant, your hand in his hair moves to wipe his brow. He huffs at that, a boyish grin creased his handsome features as he shoved his dick into you in a frenzy. “Really, really missed you.” Even though he sees you every day, it’s not the same. When was the last time you two were alone? Or atleast out of your father’s eye?

With every slam against you your head taps against the car door, he notices and drags you closer to him; he realizes the burn on his shins must be worse on your amount of bare skin on the seat, so he reaches ‘round and lays his palms under your upper back. Even in a rush, even in a craze, Billy takes care of you.

It’s rushed and it’s hard, but so, so implacably good. Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping fill the truck, fill your ears and send you even faster to the edge than you were already reeling. That feeling building, spreading from twixt your legs to crawl up your belly, warm and suffocatingly pleasing. You’ve long since given up on covering your mouth, moans rip from your throat and contribute straight to Billy’s erection. “Billy, i’m— I’m gonna-“

“I know,” Billy mutters, out of breath, broad chest heaving above yours. He’s everywhere, his arms caging you in, his body covering you, his cock slamming into you feverishly. You whine, open your eyes and look at him with knit brows. “I know, baby.” Cocky bastard, even as his eyes flutter shut, he’s grinning like an idiot.

His calloused thumb pad pushes and scrapes over your sensitive bud in tandem with his thrusts, a cry drawn from your lips as he shifts a little and starts jack hammering into that particular spot that drives you crazy. He knows it does, those big blue eyes staring at your face intently. Watching your expression fall apart as you do, gushing around him. Billy slows a little, you barely even hear yourself begging him to not stop. Barely even notice the way you’re scratching up his tan back.

You do snap back into it in time to watch him pull out of you, stroke himself barely once before come spills onto your lower belly. You huff at him, slowly coming back to your fiery self, he laughs breathlessly, but you know he partly means it when he says, “Sorry baby, m’sorry— I got a rag in the glove. Sorry.”

Billy leans over you, popping open the glovebox, rummaging around and lifting out a blue rag he might’ve used to change his car’s oil— instead, he uses it to gently wipe at the come dripping from your cunt. You find yourself staring at him, brows drawn in concentration, muscles of his arm a bit more defined from the stress put on them. His forearm veins certainly popped more now. Not to mention he was still buck naked.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’?” Billy mutters, some of that teasing gone from his voice as he throws the towel to the back seat and grabs your tank top for you. You take it with a smile and a shake of the head.

“Just wondering how long you’ve waited for an excuse to fuck in the Chevy.” You hum, finding your bra. There’s this warm, buttery yellow that’s creeping from finger to toe in your body, a contentedness following satisfaction. You two really should be hurrying to get dressed the same way you hurried to take off your clothes, but Billy doesn’t rush in searching for wherever the hell he tossed your shorts and panties. When you meet his eyes again he’s giving you the sweetest, dopiest of smiles. This kind of vulnerability he showed without qualms to you, and only you.

“‘Bout since y’got in my passenger seat, firecracker.”

[cosmicschmidt]

I need this man biblically.

[demonkitty-toebeanz]

I had a dream Finnick took my family to Paris ....FINNICK TAKE MY FAMILY TO PARIS PLEASE 🥺!!!!!!!!!

Rock paper scissors for the chair

[ghostfacd]

YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film

installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics

“Action!”

Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.

Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.

“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”

Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”

You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”

Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.

“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”

Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”

You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.

“And.. cut!”

Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.

However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.

“You okay?” You whisper to him.

“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”

You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.

“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.

You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.

“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”

“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”

“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”

Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.

You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.

“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.

“Hm?”

“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”

He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”

You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”

Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[marvelsswansong]

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

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

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

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

two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

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

three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

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

four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

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

five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

[welcometounicornworlds]

tom blyth via instagram story today

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

On Set Shenanigans || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

GIFS by me :) cred if use!!

Summary: just a bunch of random scenarios on set I thought of while I was in the shower lmao 🤣

Warnings: noneee

Wc: 1,553

A/n: sorta all over the place sorry lmao

Divider by @pommecita

“If you could describe Y/n and Tom in one word, what would you say?” Rachel purses her lips, side eyeing the two of you who were watching her with silly grins. “Y/n and Tom are,” Rachel hums, tapping her chin as she breaks out into a chuckle.

“Goofy.” You and Tom turn to each other and just break into laughter. “They are seriously the most goofiest people I have met in my entire life! There is never a dull moment on set when these two around,” Rachel shakes her head as she smiles at the two of you who blow kisses her way.

“Tom and Y/n, there’s a behind the scenes video circulating around of the two of you in costume, dancing to Low by Flo Rida,” “Oh my god,” You drop your head on Tom’s shoulder as the two of you couldn’t help wipe the grin off your faces.

“Yes, there is,” Tom laughs as they put up said video. “If you guys haven’t see it, here it is,” Dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, white singlet with his dog tag out, and you in your outfit, you and Tom were dancing along to your favourite song to dance to, Low by Flo Rida.

Rachel was recording the video during your break and was dying of laughter. The camera was shaking the entire time because of it. You and Tom loved goofing around and dancing.

You could say it was your love language. You grab Tom’s peacekeeper hat and plop out on your head slightly wonky as you move along to the song, acting as if you were at a club in Berlin and not on set. The way you and Tom danced and moved to the music just made so much sense.

“She turned around and gave that big booty a smack,” Tom spun around as you slap his ass causing an eruption of laughter from everyone who was watching.

You and Tom were trying to hold your composure but that failed miserably as you grab Tom’s arms to stabilise yourself but turned out he had no sense of stability at that moment as the two of you fall to the ground. A light scream leaving your lips as you fall on top of Tom.

And then the camera focused on the ground as Rachel had leaned over, hands on thighs as she laughed out loud. If anyone didn’t know the context of that clip, they probably would have thought that you two were drunk but truth was you were quite sober.

The crowd on set burst out into laughter as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, Tom laughing along with the host as he pats your head.

~

“What do you usually do when you’re not filming on set?” Tom gives you a look as you bite back a laugh. “I think everyone knows this but, film tiktoks” The crowd breaks into laughter as they knew what you were talking about.

“Yeah Y/n is always filming tiktok and forcing me to do them with her,” Tom grips your thigh, shaking it lightly as you roll your eyes. “No I do not, you always want to be in them!” You argue with him. “Why don’t we watch a few of them here?” Kelly Clarkson recommended as you squeeze Tom’s arm with a smile.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CQrdGn8AYiD/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== The first tiktok was of you, Tom, Rachel, and Josh in your trailer. You had the idea in your head for a while now and showed them all. “Please don’t drop me babe,” You say to Tom as you set up the camera, “I would never,” You hear him say followed by giggle.

You expected to land in Tom’s arms. Not the floor. You let out a yelp as Tom slaps his hand over his mouth. The three of them laughing their asses off while you landed on yours with a loud thud. “It’s not funny you idiot,” You slap his arm as he picks you up, apologising to you by peppering your face with kisses.

You had to admit it was pretty funny rewatching the tiktok. “You weren’t supposed to catch my feet!” You say in between laughs as you post the tiktok.

~

“This one, captioned name a better duo, I’ll wait has gone quite viral with over 10 million views,” Kelly exclaims as you cross your legs at your knees nodding your head as the video plays on the screen. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNVsM6kw/

“Tom,” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder as he hums. You had just finished filming a scene together and had abit of time before you were up again. You were both in your mentor outfits, Tom having his blonde locks today.

“I wanna film this tiktok, come be in it?” You urge him as he looks up from his phone seeing a glint of playfulness in your eyes as he lets out a sigh.

Tom secretly loved making tiktoks with you, especially since he wasn’t on it and found the stuff you make him do were interesting and funny. You had hundreds of random tiktoks that you filmed on set saved into your drafts, half of them were of you and Tom.

Your hair stylist helped film the tiktok as the two of you did it out in the open, a bunch of the filming team watching with curiosity and laughing as they walk by. Other cast members such as Josh, Hunter and a bunch of the mentor actors walked by ended up being in the background of it.

You and Tom moved along to the beat, literally just vibing to the music. You wrote on the tiktok “the funniest duo on set>>>” and you weren’t lying.

~

“We are here with the cast of the Hunger Games Prequel, the ballad of songbirds and snakes!” The crowd cheered as you, Tom, Josh, and Rachel smiles. “From what I’ve seen, you guys are actually TikTok sensations!” An eruption of laughter followed.

“This TikTok here specifically,” https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqguTEY/ you all turn your head to watch the TikTok play on screen as you all start to laugh. “Tom, where were you while this was happening,” The host looks at Tom whose eyes were trained on the ground, a grin forming on his lips.

“I’m actually there in the tiktok, on the bed. Trying to sleep.” He deadpans as you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder as you grip his arm. “Yeah this was after we came back from partying in Berlin, obviously for some of us, our night didn’t end yet,” Tom chuckles as everyone bursts out in laughter.

“Let’s do that tiktok!” You squeal the second you enter the room. Opening up tiktok, you find the video and show Josh, Hunter, Rachel, and Tom it. Tom’s arms were thrown around your shoulders, his head resting on your head due to the height difference.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” He yawns, kissing your cheek before you all bid him goodnight. Tom couldn’t even get 5 minutes of peacefulness as the four of you spill into the bedroom and set up your phone. He lets out a quiet groan at the noise and flashing of lights as he digs his head deep into his pillow.

~

“Babeee,” You call out as you step into the hair and makeup trailer. He was sitting on a chair, fully dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, hair free from his wig.

He looked more presentable compared to you and Rachel who still had hair rollers on and were still in your robes. You had seen a new trend going around tiktok where you would stare at a guy with Justin Timberlake’s mirrors playing in the background, and you wanted to do it with Tom https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqnRSNJ/

One side of his lips turns up as he looks up at you, “I’m filming a tiktok and I want you to be in it,” You say with puppy eyes although you know he wouldn’t refuse. You even got his hair and makeup artists, Stacey and Jade to be in on it too.

You pull up a chair beside Tom as you set up the camera. “Wait what am I supposed to do?” He asks, “Nothing, just sit there,” You innocently smile at him as he gives you a suspicious look but nods nonetheless, complying with whatever you were up to.

He honestly just expected to be on camera while you were doing something, but he did not expect to be stared down at by his girlfriend and hair and makeup artists. You stare intensely at Tom, trying your hardest to not laugh or look away.

Staring at your boyfriend has always not been an easy task, especially since he holds such intense eye contact. And his pretty blue eyes did not help at all. Tom tries not to laugh either as he gazes at you before his eyes flicker towards Stacey and Jade then back to you. “What’s going on,” He finally says as his body shakes from laughing.

The TikTok ends and you let out a small laugh, looking over the TikTok. You throw your head back in laughter at Tom’s face when you all look back to stare at him, honestly was priceless.

[harrysfolklore]

tom blyth being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

this was inspired by @astranva’s famous blurbs, love you and miss you novs <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

It seemed like the entire world was crushing on the same man: Tom Blyth

Unfortunately for those who watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and came out of the theater in love with the man who played Coriolanus Snow, he was happily taken and loved to talk about his girlfriend any chance he got, which lead to fans making several compilations about the times he was a simp over his girl.

The most popular video was a 10 minute and 33 seconds compilation, which had around 445k views.

It started with Tom's interview with Good Morning America to talk about Billy the Kid, the interviewer asking about how he prepared for the role.

"It was during the pandemic, like any actor during that time I was just hoping that the world came back to normal so I could start making a cent," everyone in the set laughed at this, "I was living with my girlfriend YN in a barn house and we were like chopping wood every morning and visiting my friend's ranch. So when I got the part I kinda felt like I was ready for it."

"Your girlfriend, you say," one of the interviewers said making Tom smile right away, "Did she help you prepare for the role too?

"Of course she did, she's my biggest supporter ever."

The video moved to show some behind the scenes of Songbirds and Snakes footage, Tom dressed in his peacekeeper costume and dancing around while Rachel recorded him.

"See this moves?" he got closer to the camera, "I used them to charm my girlfriend."

"And I doubt they worked." Rachel laughed behind the camera.

"She loves me so I'm pretty sure they did."

The next thing shown was Tom sitting next to Hunter as they did an interview for Rolling Stone, the crew just asked about their thoughts on Olivia Rodrigo's single for the movie.

"I love Olivia Rodrigo," Hunter cheerfully said, throwing her arms up to the air, "The new album is so good."

"I'm a big fan as well," Tom joined in, "My girlfriend YN, she's obsessed with her, plays her songs all the time."

"Just so everyone knows, YN is like the coolest person ever," Hunter said, making Tom smile, "She brought us snacks on set so many times, such an angel."

"She's the best."

The following footage was Tom and Rachel's rapid-fire questions with Vogue.

"Can you guess where this is from?" Rachel asked holding up a card that showed a zoomed in picture of a suit.

"That's my Prada suit from the London premiere," Tom asked confidently, Rachel confirming that he was correct, "My girlfriend YN loved that suit, that's why It's one of my favorites."

"Oh I miss YN."

"So do I, so do I."

Next clip was Tom's interview Stephen Colbert, who just asked him if he was a fan of the books growing up.

"I was such a huge fan, I grew up watching the films. My mom and sister used to go to opening weekends to see the movies," the audience cheered at that, "Actually, for my third date with my girlfriend I took her to see the last movie, so getting to play a young president Snow is a real honor."

The video quickly moved to show the lat clip, one of Tom's interviews at the London premiere of the movie.

"Are you here on your own? No date?" The interviewer said once Tom finished answering the previous question.

"I'm here with my girlfriend, actually," his face beamed as he spoke, "She's probably somewhere taking selfies with Hunter, those two are like best friends."

"Is she close to your cast mates?" the interviewer asked again.

"Definitely, they try to steal her from me and I can't blame them, she's the best."

[hughesmybaby]

spicy links (pt 2).

coriolanus snow

william bonney/billy the kid

tom blyth

y'all loved it so much the first time I had to do a part two. I thought about it and even better, I'm adding a tom segment for yours truly.

please comment, like, reblog, follow me and send me requests. my inbox is open for both link and written/soc med au requests. or if you just wanna talk to me, mwah.

part one.

requests open.

coryo

to serve

from behind

juice

head down

legs up

controller

rough

hands up

on a leash

feeling good

just the tip

dominate

billy

messy

eye contact

lazy

using mouth

sixty nine

admiring

take the lead

nice and slow

face riding

rutting

passion

tom

stress balls

slaps

like candy

work for it

size kink

lazy

sweetness

paint it white

the view

please me

lazy in bed

[phantomamour]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧

senator!coriolanus snow x personal assistant fem!reader

cw// nothing! just some cute shorter fluff for a trope i adore

Coriolanus should start taking the amount of sticky notes you left around for him out of your paycheck. He contemplated that idea when he found another two on his desk that morning. You were often the first one into the office, a fact he was particularly proud of when other senators complained that their assistants weren’t working. You knew the way he preferred his papers sorted when he came in, and you always were sure to have his coffee sitting for ten minutes before he arrived, leaving it the perfect temperature for his first sip. Coriolanus thought about your relationship often; there was a certain domesticity to it. You knew him better than nearly anyone, and he desired to know you better despite knowing it could be inappropriate to ask the questions he wanted to. 

Your copy of yesterday’s meeting notes is being printed. A note on top of his stack of reports to read through.

Good morning, sir. A second note next to his coffee cup. Something akin to a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took the note into his hand, thumb rubbing over the dried ink before tucking it into a box in his desk. The box was nearly full of small notes; he’d have to get another. The coffee cup warmed his hand as he turned to look out the window, sipping in peaceful silence as the first sprinkles of spring rain set in over the Capital. The snow had cleared out early this year and had been replaced with a terrible chill and rain, but the sun returned when he turned to the sound of the door opening.

“Good morning, sir. Your meeting notes as promised. They’d have been here earlier if the new intern hadn’t tried to break the printer last night. I nearly broke my hand trying to unjam it,” you said as you set down the stack of papers precisely in the corner of his desk. He appreciated how much you respected his order of things.

“I assume your hand is intact?” 

“Yes, thank you. Your lunch with the Secretary of Communications is today, and you have a call with the Head Gamemaker at three. Besides that, I’ve tried to give you time to catch up on reports.” He nodded in response, taking in the sight of your winter clothes with a soft look in his eyes. 

“Thank you. Please ensure you get to lunch today. I would prefer not to find my assistant on the floor when she forgets to eat.” You smiled with a firm nod in return.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be outside if you need me.” A small part of him hated watching you walk away, the same part of him that he forced himself to ignore so fiercely. He noticed the color of your skirt, a deep red, and a part of him wondered if you matched his signature jacket on purpose. It wasn’t entirely unlikely; you often had something red on since your first week, and he knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence. 

When he left for lunch, he found your desk empty and a single note left atop your keyboard.

Enjoy your lunch. I’ll be here when you return. He picked up the note to tuck safely into his jacket pocket, another for his collection. He hadn’t realized how protective he’d be of your notes when you started working for him a year ago, but when he couldn’t find the heart to throw them away, it became a growing issue for the space in his desk. You’d never know, but the note you’d left him on your first day was framed and pristine in the back of one of his drawers. Maybe one day, he’d get the courage to display it on his shelf. 

As promised, you were there when he returned and greeted him with a smile that he swore lit up the room. 

“Good afternoon, sir. How was lunch?” your voice was gentle and caring, a comfort unlike anything he’d heard before.

“Productive. His assistant will be reaching out to set another next month. How was your lunch?” He did his best to ask about you even on his busiest days, and how your eyes shined when he did always made it worth it. You told him about the cafe you stopped into during your break from the office with the same smile that took the breath out of his lungs. 

“Their coffee is quite good as well. Perhaps I could bring you one tomorrow to see if you’d like it over the cafe I’ve been getting your coffee from recently.” There it was again. The care you showed him from the first day you entered the office, never once thinking of anyone else there but him. You were a shark when you wanted to be for him, ready to rearrange anyone else’s schedule for his benefit. But to him, you were nothing more than the perfect kind girl he couldn’t help but be grateful for hiring every day. He enjoyed the fire in your eyes when you’d ramble about one of the interns getting in the way of your job and when you triumphantly announced the success of a hard-to-plan meeting. He was entirely infatuated with you, frowned upon or not. 

His call with the Head Gamemaker ran later than expected, the sun setting in the background from the conference room he had stepped into with another senator to discuss plans for the following year’s games. When he came back to your desk empty, a certain melancholy settled deep in his chest. No note was left for him, an uncommon occurrence, and a slight frown pulled on his features before he stepped into his office to finish the day. He wasn’t upset at you; he had nearly forced you to leave the office on time plenty of times. But a voice in his head still begged you to be there when he was. 

A small box sat on his desk, centered perfectly amongst the papers you had clearly straightened for him before leaving. Tied together with a red bow, he sat down to inspect it closer. He imagined your hands tying it so neatly together, and his fingers brushed against the ribbon as if it could cure the ache in his chest that longed to touch your skin. Undoing the ribbon and setting it aside, he relished in the smile that washed over his face. A sticky note stared up at him from where he had taken off the top of the box.

Happy birthday, Mr. Snow. I hope you had a good day. I’ll see you tomorrow. You hadn’t spoken a word about the day. You were perfectly familiar with his disdain for celebration and refrained from the theatrics you knew would drive him crazy. But when you scouted out the new cafe at lunch, you couldn’t help purchasing one small cupcake, knowing he would never indulge in a whole slice of cake. Lightly iced and small enough for him not to deny the sweet treat, he tore off a piece of the cake and imagined your excitement in leaving the gift for him before you left. 

You didn’t have to voice how much you cared for him. It was clear as day, and it was something he swore never to take for granted.

[francixoxoxo]

Thinking abt being at a big bonfire/party in a cornfield, beer drunk in modern Billy’s lap with your back against his broad chest, staring at the fire, he’s holding you tighter than he has to. He mumbles something in your ear about breaking away from the bonfire, slipping into his truck a few minutes away on the property, and his thumb just absentmindedly tucks under the waistband of your low-rise jeans, his nail catching on the lace of your panties— you huff, “ass.” he has this shit eating grin, he really thinks he’s funny when he says, “y’know, I was thinkin’ ‘bout the same thing.”

[yzzart]

Could you do a Tom blyth x actress!Reader of like a compilation of cute moments during interviews? Like you did with the playlists one, but this time you could do more couple-ish stuff like kissing or any other type of physical contact? I’m just really craving for Tom content and you’re the only one I’ve seen who writes for him!!!!!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

"Just married, according to fans."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: you and Tom look like an elderly married couple, say your fans and the rest of the cast.

word count: 635!

notes: here it's in your hands, anon! honestly, i had a lot of fun writing and imagining this scenario; it's so cute and adorable and forgive me if it's short & there're so many amazing writings for tom and you need to read them! — i hope you like it and share your ideas and requests with me!

"That's so cliché." — You turned, looking at Tom, amused by his answer to a behind-the-scenes question.

"We're cliché, honey." — He confessed, placing his hand on your knee, squeezing it weakly and with affectionate intent; you felt the small coldness of his rings.

"You guys're definitely cliché." — Rachel confessed, looking at the camera, with her lips curling into a tight smile and laughing; and soon, you and Tom laughed at her words.

"Oh, your work on 'Billy the kid' is so captivating." — You crossed your legs, settling in the armchair, and resting one of your hands on your knee. — "And i think i've said that for the thousandth time? I don't know?" — A question that did not, in fact, have a concrete answer; a simple provocation.

"Maybe, but, i want to hear it again." — Tom arched his eyebrows with a bold expression and curled his lips; and proceeding to arrange the headphones in his ears.

"Okay, okay!" — The radio presenter raised his hands, finding it funny and interesting. — "It's so good and intriguing, leaving the viewer wanting more and becoming completely obsessed!" — You paused briefly. — "And i already begged to participate at least as an extra in the series!" — Tom and the presenter laughed. — "And i'm not kidding, and to this day i'm waiting for something or confirmation."

"She's really not kidding." — Tom completed with a proud smile, having fun with your statement and waiting, with fingers crossed and mentally, for your confirmation in the series.

"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you placed the small card you were holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it and looking at the camera in front of you.

"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him is cheating." — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.

"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.

"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and leaving the small card in your lap.

"Oh yeah?" — Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. — "Look at this!"

In every interview, or radio appearance, Tom always, always maintains physical contact with you; his hand on your thigh, or leg, he's holding and stroking your hand. — Analyzing the spots that are present, and rings that you wear. — Tom just can't keep his hands off you.

Those deep, lovely blue eyes are always on you; admiring, contemplating and paying attention to every word that was uttered from your lips. — Sometimes, he gets lost in the conversation and topic because they were busy watching you.

Matching accessories? Oh yeah! In addition to the photos, which fans analyzed, in which you wear his jacket, you wear rings, necklaces from the same brand and edition. — Not to mention the necklace with your initial that Tom already wore at one of the premieres and during a radio interview with Rachel.

Countless photos of you together're spread all over social media, whether from paparazzi or those that Rachel or you post. — Your fans go crazy, insanely, with them; at certain times, they created an album of them and Rachel even shared it on her profile and sent it to you.

Excerpts, videos, spread across social media, of you moving in sync; a touch on the face, rolling the eyes, or thinking about the same thing, answer or something and talking together. — God, there are so many compilations created by fans.

[billysgun]

smitten

billy the kid x fem!reader |requested!|billy is still love-sick for you with your new domestic life and baby boy|

the baby stirs in your grip softly, a grin spreads on your face as your infant sleeps soundly in your arms

you turn as the door opens, billy takes his hat off and a wide smile finds his lips at the sight of you two

"how was your ride?" you whispered. billy often rides into the meadows -sometimes turning for the town if you need anything- after he left his outlaw life behind and married you. he's a cowboy at heart, though, so he rides almost every morning

"it was great," he said, voice low, he moved toward you pushing a loose strand of your hair to the side to get a good look at your face

"you look gorgeous" he whispered, a smitten look deep in his eyes as he moved down to kiss you

still as lovesick as ever, you melt into the kiss, and the baby in your arms whines at your attention moving and billy makes sure to greet him too

"hey little cowboy" he whispers and kisses the top of your baby's head, the infant's eyes barely open to see his dad

billy impossibly grins wider once your baby boy smiles at him, their matching eyes filled with love as billy scoops him up

"did you sleep good last night?" billy babbles to the baby,

"I'll make breakfast while you too talk" you giggle as you make your way to the kitchen, billy follows as the mumbles to the child

"mama's gonna make us some food. you'll help her one day so pay attention"

he narrates your movements to your baby, as you fry a few eggs your eyes drift to your husband and you couldn't help your heart as it swelled at the sight

this tall, threatening-looking man with a gun on his hip rocked your baby ever so softly with a love-filled grin plastered on his face

"I love you" you told him, he looked up at you before stepping closer to kiss you slowly

"I love you more than you could ever know"

an: thank you for the request! <3 I love love love the simple life with billy 🥺🫶

[ghostfacd]

SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about

AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much

installment of this au (recommend reading for context)

It started off innocent.

Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.

You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.

That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.

“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”

Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.

“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”

“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”

“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”

“They already think you’re crazy.”

Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”

“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”

He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.

“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”

“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”

Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”

Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”

You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”

“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”

And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.