#also i hate the title but were not gonna talk about it
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Thoughts on Sonic 3!
On December 10th, 2018, I was on the last day of a trip to Milwaukee. The night before, I'd attended the wedding of one of my best friends, Jake, who I've known since high school. Even though half of us were sick the whole trip, it was a great time. Derek had asked the wedding DJ to play "One Week" as the first request of the night, and proceeded to lip sync the entire song on the dance floor. On that cold winter morning in a hotel room hundreds of miles from home, Derek and I groggily checked Twitter on our phones and saw the shocking news: Paramount had teased the design for Sonic from their upcoming live action film. Even in silhouette, the shape of his face and the realistic curvature of his limbs made him look like a grotesque little homunculus. This movie was going to suck.
Six years later, I've now seen the third entry in what's become a hugely successful Sonic film franchise. It features Keanu Reeves as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog in a fairly faithful adaptation of his story from Sonic Adventure 2. At the time of writing, it currently sits at a whopping 86% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, vying for the title of the best-reviewed theatrically released video game movie of all time. Critics are saying nice things about the emotional journey of Shadow the Hedgehog. Never in a million years did I think I'd see this day.
I, too, have now seen this movie, and... yeah, it's pretty good.
I'm gonna get deep into spoilers here, so I'll just say up front that I liked the movie. It feels like just about the best possible execution of this version of Sonic. But that's also damning it with faint praise, depending on who you ask.
If you're a fan of the games who didn't like the second movie, you probably won't get much out of this one, either, unless you just really love Shadow so much that nothing else in the movie matters to you. It doesn't reinvent the wheel for this film series. It's still got a heaping helping of broad comedy, cheap pop culture references, bad one-liners, and characterization that diverges greatly from the source material. This is not high art, nor is it a direct adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2. If you're the kind of person who hates this portrayal of Sonic and Eggman, or a lore nerd who'll hate that they let Shadow do Chaos Control without an Emerald, then just don't bother with this.
On the other hand, if you did enjoy the last movie, then you'll probably have a fun time here, too. Shadow is very cool. The action is the best it's ever been. There's a bit more focus on characters from the games, and less on human characters invented for the movies—with the exception of Agent Stone, who's in this a lot because everyone likes him. There's a lot of SA2 fanservice. They even play "Live and Learn." It's a fun time! Be sure to stick around through the end credits.
And now, to dig deeper, let's get into the spoilers! I'm gonna jump around a lot and talk about different aspects of the movie, spoiling everything along the way.
Shadow and his reams of lore
Here's the main thing you came for: Shadow is great in this! They really did him justice. Keanu Reeves is extremely solid in the role. He can be a bit flat as an actor sometimes, but I think he did well here. He can be tough and menacing, but he can also be earnest and emotionally vulnerable. Good casting call. Excited at the prospect of seeing more of him in the future.
Really, as a Sonic Lore Nerd I'm most interested in discussing the changes they made to Shadow's backstory. I'm sure there will be many fans upset with the changes, but for the sake of streamlining a complicated backstory that was subject to a bunch of retcons and multiple layers of amnesia and fitting it into a 110-minute movie, I think they generally made smart choices.
For one, Gerald didn't create Shadow using Black Arms DNA, because Gerald didn't create Shadow at all! Instead, Shadow arrived on Earth inside a meteor, and Gerald was merely the prominent GUN scientist who studied him after he was captured. (That meteor does have very strong Black Arms vibes, though, so I wouldn't rule out the possibility of them exploring that stuff in the future.) This simplifies things a lot and allows Shadow to be a direct foil for Sonic, kind of a version of our hero who was treated as a lab rat and lost the only human he considered family instead of finding happiness like Sonic has. Then later Shadow hurts Tom and Sonic wants revenge, and it mirrors Shadow's feelings about Maria, and after they fight they can empathize with each other over this, Shadow sees the error of his ways and helps save the world, yada yada yada. You get it. People predicted 95% of this movie's plot from the trailers, but it's effective.
Likewise, all of the stuff about creating Shadow as the ultimate life form who's immune to all disease to cure Maria's illness is completely cut out. Shadow's still called the ultimate life form, but he's treated as more of an energy source than a genetic research project here, playing off of the stuff about Eggman wanting to harness Sonic's natural Chaos Energy in the movies. The original intent behind the ultimate life form project was always hard to explain in the games and doesn't even come up that much, so I don't blame them for cutting it.
Because Gerald isn't doing genetic experiments and creating artificial life, the Biolizard also doesn't exist. It does, however, appear in an old monster movie Shadow and Maria watch in a montage, with Shadow later commenting that he worries he's a monster like the one he saw in the movie. That's a clever way to include it, I think.
The ARK sort of exists. There was no space colony back in the '70s, all of the events of Shadow's flashbacks just took place at a secret GUN base on Earth. Fair enough for a version of the story ostensibly set in the real world. The big space laser in the third act of the film is obviously supposed to evoke the ARK, but it's referred to as simply the Eclipse Cannon. It's still not a full-blown space colony, just a weapon of mass destruction Gerald designed for GUN in exchange for his release (while also secretly planning to use it to blow up the planet in an act of revenge). I am, however, pleased to report that the Eclipse Cannon still has a giant Eggman face on it.
And as for Maria: I like her in this! She's obviously not going to get a ton of screentime, and she's always going to be a very straightforward character, but she's more playful and lively here. She teases Shadow for being grumpy and plays with him a lot. She feels less like this perfect embodiment of everything good and pure in the world and more like an actual kid. She's still not a complex character, but it works.
And the most important question: do they show a child getting shot and killed by the military? The answer is almost. In the flashback, GUN soldiers chase Maria, Shadow, and Gerald and ready their guns, but the young Commander Walters (who's in his 20s rather than being a kid) grabs them and tries to stop them from firing on a child. In the chaos, a soldier fires, missing Maria but hitting a generator that then blows up and kills Maria. So, y'know, close enough I suppose.
So, yes, many of the details change here, but they captured the gist of Shadow's story from SA2. The emotional core is there. I will say, though, I almost feel like Shadow isn't in this movie as much as I thought he'd be? I think he's used effectively in all of his scenes, and they make room for his backstory, and BOY does he get to kick ass in his fights, but for much of the middle part of the movie he's overshadowed by Ivo and Gerald. Though this might be a compromise to leave more screentime for...
Tails and Knuckles
I'm relieved to report that Tails and Knuckles both get a good amount of cool stuff to do in this! They don't feel like an afterthought.
I was worried that Tails in particular would completely fall by the wayside, since even his debut movie didn't entirely know what to do with him. But he's good here. He pretty much just feels like the Tails from the games at this point, especially since they dropped that fawning admiration he had for Sonic with that running gag of him going "Only Sonic the Hedgehog could do that!" He often chimes in as the one who wants Team Sonic to stick together when Sonic and Knuckles bicker. He particularly gets to shine in the Mission Impossible-inspired heist sequence at the GUN headquarters in London that serves as the climax of the second act, which feels like it was tailor made to let him shine as the tech guy of the team. He also gets several opportunities to swoop in and catch someone for a save in an action scene. He's good in this!
Knuckles is... fine. He's definitely fallen into the role of the comic relief dumb bruiser since joining the good guys, but he's at least a little better than he was in his own streaming show. The jokes lean more into him just being really brash about his strength and skill, rather than him being this archaic warrior who doesn't understand anything about the modern world. He also gets a few more serious bits in the back third of the movie where he gets to shine a little more, so overall it evens out to him being fine. They could've done way worse.
As for the relevance of the Knuckles show: Knuckles is now said to be the guardian of the Master Emerald, like in the games, though with no Angel Island this amounts to him hiding it somewhere for safekeeping. It's eventually revealed that he just gave it to Wade, who gets exactly one scene (sorry, Wade-heads) for a joke about him using the Master Emerald as a hockey puck. So, the miniseries explained why Knuckles has a connection with Wade. That's it! Also I think Knuckles might use the Flames of Disaster a bit in fights, but they never called the technique out by name, so I never really thought about it. So, yeah, the six-episode streaming miniseries about Wade bowling has zero meaningful relevance to the Shadow movie. Who could have seen this coming?
Miscellaneous humans
For that matter, the human supporting cast is MASSIVELY downplayed in this one. Tom and Maddie are there for two key sequences (the beginning of the movie and the GUN HQ heist), but otherwise they disappear for long stretches of the movie. They don't go to Japan in act I, nor do they go to space in act III, and there's no subplot for them during those periods, either. There's nothing like the wedding subplot in Sonic 2 where they'd constantly cut back to Hawaii for comic relief with the humans and only reveal why this was relevant to the plot near the end. (There's also no random dance battle in Siberia.) If a human character is here, it's because they have something to contribute to the plot right away. Most people will probably consider this an improvement, and I'd certainly say it makes for a much tighter script, though I have to remind everyone that I thought the wedding being a GUN sting operation was such a funny twist that I'm a defender of the Hawaii subplot.
On the subject of Tom, something funny I've noticed is that they've just completely downplayed the fact that Tom and Wade are cops. Tom being a cop never comes up once. Wade being a cop only gets referenced via the fact that he's practicing hockey on the roof of the police station in his one scene, but he's not in uniform or anything. They clearly got the memo that we don't want Sonic to hang out with cops.
Here's something else funny: Rachel and Randall got character posters, but they're actually not in the movie! Not technically, anyway. During the heist sequence at GUN HQ, Tom and Maddie use some gadgets Tails invented to holographically disguise themselves as those other characters. But the real Rachel and Randall never show up in the flesh. It's a very odd way to shoehorn the actors into the movie. (Jojo is also absent. They did not give her Amy's role of being the girl who reminds Shadow of Maria. Instead they just let Sonic have the big heart to heart with Shadow that makes him switch sides.)
You know who IS in this movie? Krysten Ritter. Not as the voice of Rouge, as the fandom once hoped, but as a director for GUN. She gets like three scenes and she feels completely checked out the whole time. Can't say I blame her! She's not really a character, just a plot necessity. Commander Walters dies in Japan but gives Sonic one of two keycards needed to activate the Eclipse Cannon, and then Ritter's character assumes Sonic stole it and labels him a bad guy. So that's why they have to break into GUN HQ in the second act instead of just talking things out with them. Still, I am at least relieved that Sonic doesn't work with GUN for most of the movie.
I gotta be honest: when Walters pulled a credit card-shaped object out of his pocket, I thought he was about to give Sonic another Olive Garden gift card as his final act before dying. Part of me wishes that happened.
The supporting human character in this who really gets to shine is Agent Stone, which I'm sure most fans will agree was the correct choice. There's a LOT of Agent Stone in this. He's good. I don't have much to say about him, but he's fun as usual.
But, of course, the ones who steal the show are Jim Carrey, and his costar Jim Carrey.
The Robotniks
I've gone back and forth on whether or not I can actually see movie Robotnik as Robotnik. I think with this third and final entry in the Jim Carrey Robotnik Trilogy, I've landed on... yeah, that's just Jim Carrey playing a Jim Carrey character. He's absolutely having fun with the role, and I enjoyed watching him, but I think a lot of that comes down to the fact that I'm a millennial who grew up watching Jim Carrey movies. If you didn't like him before, this movie will probably be nails on a chalkboard to you, because now there are two of him.
Ivo's arc here leans very heavily into the fact that he grew up as an orphan and never knew his family, a thing offhandedly mentioned in the first movie that's never been a thing for any other version of the character. Here, he learns that he has a living grandfather who's also a mad scientist, and it feels like a hole in his heart has been filled. It certainly makes sense for a place to take this version of the character, and it fits with the movie's themes of finding and losing family, but the cartoonish, childlike affection Ivo feels towards Gerald and all the scenes of them frolicking and dancing together have basically nothing to do with the characters from the games. He's a fun villain for this movie, but he's overwhelmingly used as comic relief this time rather than as a serious threat. He doesn't particularly feel like Sega's Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the arch nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog who'd take over the world with an army of robots and a fleet of airships in the span of a day if Sonic wasn't around to stop him. He's a guy who lives in a big crab robot and has some drones. He has more in common with Carrey's depictions of the Grinch or the Riddler or Count Olaf than Dr. Eggman. Though he does, at least, finally get his outfit from the games by the end of the movie. So that's something. And also he's in a fat suit now. They only make jokes at the expense of his weight a little. Hooray...?
Gerald, meanwhile, is... largely the same character as movie Eggman, but older, so they can make jokes about him having saggy flesh and smelling funny and needing dentures. (Also, his voice kind of sounds like Homer Simpson sometimes?) To his credit, Carrey absolutely nails the handful of more serious scenes Gerald gets, whether it's Maria's death or his sinister turn when he reveals that he actually wants to destroy the Earth. But then it's right back to goofs about there being two of the same guy. Even the final battle features a lot of slapstick shenanigans with the two Robotniks fighting each other. I was able to enjoy the absurdity of it all, but if the humor doesn't land for you the dual Jim Carrey schtick is a hell of a lot of the movie. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more Gerald than Shadow in the movie, when you go and tally up their screentime. I was able to enjoy the sheer absurdity of it, but your mileage will vary.
I will, however, say that the split screen stuff they do with the two Carreys is EXTREMELY impressive, from a filmmaking perspective. They were absolutely flexing with their ability to pull the effect off. They don't rely on cheap tricks like cutting a lot, or having shot/reverse shot scenes where you're looking at the back of a body double's head. Instead they have a lot of long takes where the two Robotniks are talking to each other, you can see both of their faces, and they'll even hug and touch each other a lot, and the whole time the conversation maintains a natural pace like it really is two actors playing off of each other. It's really well done. It's an incredibly silly idea, but boy did they commit to it.
Sonic
I've hardly said anything about Sonic himself in all of this. It's his movie, isn't it! Well... I don't know, he's fine.
I feel like movie Sonic is a known quantity at this point, and either you like this take on the character or you don't. There was some speculation early on that this was supposed to be a younger Sonic who would grow into being the character we know from the games and comics, the one who's still got lots of quips but is also kind of aloof and cool, a free spirit who goes where the wind takes him, a figure the other characters look up to. And... no, that didn't happen. Once again he gets more serious as the stakes are raised, and he's totally badass when he goes Super, but the rest of the time he's still a little goober with tons of generic one-liners who learns schmaltzy lessons about the importance of family. He's still constantly going to undercut the tension of most scenes by cracking a pop culture reference that will make the average American parent go "haha I've heard of that." I don't think they're ever gonna change that. I think this just what the writers think Sonic is like.
And, again, for what it is, it's fine. He's a little annoying. You already know how you feel about movie Sonic. This third entry won't change that. But they do, at least, have him say "Talk about low budget flights, no food or movies... I'm outta here!" before jumping out of a helicopter. As my thoughts on the climax will show, I am not immune to fanservice.
The climax
God, the climax is SOOOOO fucking good. It's fantastic. Easily the best action these movies have ever done.
Rather than saving Super Shadow for the team-up with Sonic at the end, they have both of them go Super to fight each other first, and they just go full DBZ with it, fighting across the entire planet. It absolutely rules. I think this is the new coolest fight the two of them have had in anything ever. And then they have to stop the Eclipse Cannon together, and sure, there's no Biolizard. But Gerald DOES release a swarm of GUN Hunter robots, and the ensuing space battle turns into some Gundam shit. It's good! It's so good!!! The movie's flaws kind of melt away for me here when I'm watching Super Shadow take out an army of robots with Chaos Spears on the big screen. What a timeline we're living in.
And yes, they play "Live and Learn." They had to. They knew the assignment. They actually play a slight remix, but it's still got the original vocals, so it's perfectly recognizable. Actually, the tune of the song is used as a leitmotif for Shadow throughout the movie, first introduced via an acoustic guitar version played by Maria, and I really love that. I've been begging these movies to use more music from the games the whole time, and I'm glad they finally did so here. (They also use the traditional level clear jingle early in the film, and Eggman's theme from SA2 is very briefly used as a ringtone.)
... Anyway, uh, meanwhile Eggman, Tails, and Knuckles straight up just kill Gerald to save the world? They unceremoniously knock him into an energy field at the end of their slapstick fight aboard the Eclipse Cannon and he disintegrates like he hit a bugzapper. It's over in an instant. It's not graphic or anything, but it's, like... I didn't expect them to show it, or for it to be such a casual murder! Eggman has one quip about it and then immediately moves on.
Shortly after this, Eggman and Shadow sacrifice themselves to stop the Eclipse Cannon. Shadow's sacrifice doesn't stick, obviously (he's revealed to be alive by the end of the second stinger—pretend to be shocked), but Eggman's probably dead dead. I seriously doubt Jim Carrey's gonna come out of retirement for these movies again. His final moments before the big explosion are also SO dragged out and belabored. He has a dramatic final line like ten times in a row. It really just feels like the series saying goodbye to Carrey. And, again, it feels like a fitting enough end for this Eggman's arc, but it's an odd adaptation of the character from the games.
And so, that's what we're left with. This is far from Sonic Adventure 2: The Movie. It's not that, though there are many, many references made to that game in particular. It's a sequel to the film Sonic the Hedgehog 2 that has a similar tone and style, but Shadow and Gerald are in it, and Shadow gets some really cool fights, and there's a liiiiiittle more focus on stuff from the games than last time, and the script's a little tighter. If that sounds fun to you, you will have fun with this. I know I did. If it doesn't, you're probably better off waiting for them to inevitably do an animated reboot whenever this live action series runs out of steam.
It hasn't quite run out of steam yet, though...
The post-credits scenes, and the future
One of the big questions going into this was: what's next? How do they top a Shadow movie with heavy Sonic Adventure 2 overtones, in terms of hype for the fans? How do you fill Eggman's shoes after Carrey retires, for real this time? There are still more fan favorite rival characters to get through, but how many movies in a row can they introduce a furry foe for Sonic who inevitably turns good and helps him stop a larger threat by the end? And when the hell are we gonna see the girls?
Well, we now have our answer, and it's one I'm cautiously excited for: a whole army of Metal Sonics, and Amy!
Yes, Amy! Finally!! It's an absolute crime that we've gone three whole movies and a streaming miniseries without including the female lead of the series. I've complained about this ad nauseum (and also the fact that they cut Rouge from the story). But at least now they're finally doing something about it.
But now the question is, how will they characterize Amy? Sega's struggled with her for years, and there's a million different directions you can take her. Her one scene here has her smashing a bunch of Metal Sonics and wearing a cloak for the sake of a dramatic reveal, which gives her the vibes of a mysterious, badass action girl. This is, of course, completely different from how Sonic and Amy met in the games. What will her personality be like? She doesn't speak here, so who will they get to play her? Where did she come from? Will she even have a crush on Sonic? All of these have yet to be determined. So, like, I'm hyped to finally see Amy, a character who should've been in the movies from the start, but they could so easily end up playing it safe with an incredibly boring girlboss version of Amy who's no fun at all. We'll have to wait and see.
(My prediction: they're going to try to cast either Zendaya or Ariana as Amy.)
Metal Sonic, likewise, is very exciting, and he looks perfect. He looks just like the design from the games. But the question is: what will they do with this army of Metals? Will they be lead by one main Metal Sonic, perhaps Neo Metal Sonic, who gets to be a proper bad guy? Will they take some cues from Sonic CD, Heroes, and the OVA, or do something completely original? Where did they come from? Were they activated as a failsafe after Eggman died? Did they and Amy come from some sort of bad future, riffing on Sonic CD's time travel? Will they explore the fact that Metal wants to be the one and only Sonic? Or will they just be an army of disposable robot grunts for Sonic and friends to mow down like it's a Dynasty Warriors game, while some other villain takes center stage?
It could go so many different ways, and some prospects are more exciting than others. I mean, the Knuckles show had endless possibilities for what it could do with him, and none of the options on my bingo card were "Pachacamac's ghost tells him to help Wade win a bowling tournament." And while I'm a sicko who thinks it's funny that the Knuckles show is what it is, forgive me for keeping my hype about Amy and Metal Sonic in check here until we learn more.
Regardless of what they do, it'll still be hard to top the hype of Shadow, and it'll be hard to fill Jim Carrey's shoes for general audiences. So despite this clear statement of intent, I have no idea what the future of this film franchise holds. But regardless of what they do, I can say one thing for certain: the kids in my theater were hyped as hell for it. They popped off over Metal Sonic, and they were screaming their heads off with excitement over Amy. I heard a teenage girl on the opposite end of my row of seats say "finally!" over Amy's reveal, verbalizing my exact thoughts. She also said that this movie was "peak," though it diverged from the games, and she hoped they'd do a movie with Silver and Blaze someday.
The kids are gonna be okay.
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they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it
#i pirated that shit Btw just so we're clear. also gonna talk about it a little bit in the tags#nothing too spoilery but also might not wanna read if you want to go in knowing absolutely nothing? idk#anyway he WAS a main character still he was present for a decent amount of the first couple episodes#but the amount of screentime he gets just starts dropping after that . hes barely there at all in the second half ???#and it feels like theres a lot of scenes mostly focusing on wade and his problems and not near as many for knuckles and his whole deal#overall it feels more like a wade show with knuckles in it than a knuckles show with wade in it. which sucks#and human characters having plot relevance isnt the problem here i dont mind human characters at all i think they can be really fun#its the fact that the human characters are taking over the story and spotlight when the show is called knuckles#and all the marketing makes it look like knuckles is the main focus#and i also would have preferred if they just went with a differnet character to be knuckles' human friend#because i dont particulraly care about wade. and the knuckles (and sonic and tails) i know would not be friends with cops </3#well at least the story wasnt knuckles training wade to be a better cop like a lot of people were expecting but thats like.the bare minimum#also aside from the issues relating to knuckles' screentime (or lack of screentime) i thought the ending was unsatisfying#regardless of all that though there WERE some parts i enjoyed or found kind of funny or whatever. because knuckles so cutesy as always#knuckles being a cute little guy is the most important part of the show actually#and i liked the parts with sonic tails and maddie even if they were only there for like 5 minutes#(i really wish those three had gotten more screentime. i feel like they could have easily worked in at least one more scene with them)#and its a minor thing but the opening sequence is cute. was honestly expecting just a title card or something#overall the show is just . kind of okay i guess. not the worst thing ive ever seen but still disappointing ? idk how to explain..#my expectations also werent very high in the first place#so maybe im being a bit more generous than i would have been otherwise. idk#and i definitely would not recommend this to anyone who already dislikes the sonic movies . youll probably hate this more#like people who thought the human characters got too much screentime in the second movie would lose their minds if they saw this
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Testing His Patience
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: smut, jealous girlfriend, a bit toxic btw idk if Max even has a sister, I completely made Carla up
Now you have to admit that you were a jealous type of a girlfriend, but like really jealous, the possessive type of a girlfriend. It was something that you couldn't help and you weren't proud of it, but it was either that or you weren't interested at all. It's not your best feature, and you know it very well, but when you love, you love with all your heart, strongly and completely and that's exactly why you don't let anyone mess with or touch something that's yours.
You weren't really insanely jealous and acted like a crazy person about it, but Lando knew from the very beginning that you had a little jealousy problem, although you didn't always and constantly show it. For example, you were never jealous of his fans, but you would be jealous if Lando paid more attention than you would like to one of his girl friends or, for example, Max's sister Carla.
Oh, you didn't like her at all. She was a thorn in your side and you couldn't really do anything about it because she was Max's younger sister.
Carla was only 20 years old, but she sure didn't look 20. Lando's known her ever since he's known Max and Max is like a family to him. Their friendship is on another level, it's very special and they both mean a lot to each other. However, Lando always looked at Carla as Max's younger sister and she looked at Lando as Max's best friend.
And that was the case until half a year ago, when you noticed that Carla had turned into a "pick me" girl and that she was trying to flirt with Lando on several occasions in front of your own eyes.
At first you ignored it because you knew Lando would never even look at her that way, but when it started happening more and more often it started to bother you a lot. You told Lando about it, but he didn't take it seriously and just brushed it off.
Now Lando hated your jealous scenes. He loved you more than anything and showed it to you all the time, but he hated it when you used to give him a jealous outburst from time to time. It bothered him because he saw it as you not trusting him, and he never gave you a reason to not trust him, but sometimes you just couldn't bite your tongue even if you wanted to.
It was the same this time. An article online titled "Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell's Sister?" which talked about Lando possibly dating his sister and also had a picture of Carla hugging Lando after taking the pole position, was the final straw.
People didn't know about you and Lando. They didn't know that you have been together for two years because you agreed that you wanted to keep your relationship private and away from the media because Lando wanted to protect you and your relationship at any cost.
But lately, this idea of keeping a relationship private has started to do more harm than good precisely because they always linked up Lando with some girls and talked about how he was with them, when in fact he wasn't at all. All of that started to affect your self-confidence and it definitely increased your feeling of jealousy.
That led to arguing with Lando about Carla all over again and Lando was not having it.
"Y/n, please don't do this again. I had a busy weekend and I just want to lie down together and relax in front of the TV. Please stop."
"No, I'm not gonna stop! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of her making me feel like a fool!" You yelled clenching your fists.
Lando sighed trying to keep his cool, running his hands over his face and then through his curls.
"She does it all the time and even in front of me! I see the way she looks at you, the way she always finds an excuse to touch you, the way she always tries to prolong the hug with you, the way she's at every single race." Exasperated, you continued to speak in a raised tone, barely catching your breath.
"And you keep letting it happen! You never said anything to her nor have you ever done anything about it even though you know how it's making me feel, Lando!"
You continued to complain for probably another 3 minutes without stopping until you completely pushed his buttons. He abruptly got up from the couch where he was sitting at and walked towards you grabbing your waist and harshly pushing you against the wall. You winced in pain as your back hit the wall behind you.
"What? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to fuck you in front of her? Is that what you want?" His eyes darkened as he yelled tightly gripping your hips. "I absolutely don't give a shit about her. I don't even notice all those things that you keep talking about because you are the only one on my mind." He continued talking, looking deep into your eyes, his gaze penetrating your soul.
"But do you realize that she is Max's sister and that I can not do anything about it because Max is like a brother to me. I love you, y/n, I love you more than anything in this world, but I don't ever want to put myself in a situation where I have to choose between you and him."
"No one even knows about us, Lando. Do you know how much it hurts me to see them trying to link you up with other girls that aren't me?" Your eyes slowly began to fill with tears, but you were still angry and wanted to prove your point so you didn't let them rush down your cheeks.
"But I kept us a secret because I wanted to protect you, y/n! I would love nothing more than to show you off every fucking day, but at what cost? So that they can completely invade our privacy? Send you death threats? Mess with your mental health? I'd fucking lose it if anything happened to you, y/n! Fuck!!" He yelled letting go of your waist and turning away from you trying to calm down.
You were angry, but he was angrier. His patience was wearing thin and you could sense it.
When you stayed silent for a moment, Lando thought that you had tried to give yourself a chance to understand this situation.
"Maybe you won't have to choose between me and him, but you will have to choose between me and her."
But when these words came out of your mouth, you completely drove him crazy with your stubbornness. He pulled your arm and threw you onto the couch hovering over you.
"Don't test my patience, y/n" He said through gritted teeth pinning your hands above your head. "I'm telling you, I'm getting sick and tired of this shit. How many times do I have to remind you that I only want you?" He asks grinding himself against you.
His mouth moved down to the level of your neck, pressing his lips to your thin skin. "Why do you always have to make things so difficult when you know that I'm only yours? What part of that don't you understand, huh?"
It was his time to talk now. His hand found its way down your stomach and into your panties making you moan at the unexpected contact.
Your back arched off the couch as two of his fingers slipped inside you while his thumb continued to rub your clit. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but that only resulted in him spreading them even more and watching you whimper open-mouthed beneath him.
"From now on," He kissed you hard and passionately before he started. "Every time you try to act like a brat, i will treat you like one. I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for days." His fingers quickened their pace as he held you firmly down on the couch with his other hand.
You were so wet, so close. "Oh, fuck, Lan.." You whimpered trying to grab his wrist.
"But you'll never get to cum, if you don't stop acting like that." And just when you were about to, he stopped pulling out his fingers that were glistening with your wetness. You whined almost crying out when he decided to deprive you from the release you needed so bad.
He pulled off your leggings and unclapsed your bra, leaving you in only black panties and a tight crop top that showed your hard nipples. He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue fighting against yours, before he pulled down his grey sweats and shirt tossing them somewhere to the side.
He grabbed his hard prominent member through his boxers grunting as he pumped himself through the fabric. You tried to move to a sitting position to be closer to him and kiss his stomach all the way to where he needed you the most, but as soon as you tried to get up, he pushed you back down on the couch. He pulled down his boxers freeing his cock and taking it in his hand. He hovered over you again and pressed his red leaking tip against your clothed folds rubbing himself up and down.
"Do you want to cum, baby?" He asked leaning down closer to you and pressing a soft kiss on the side of your neck.
"Yeah, I do."
"Yeah? Does that mean you're going to be a good girl for me then?" He asked squeezing your boob then lifting up your crop top just above your nipples. Your response came out as a whimper as he stuck his lips around your nipple and began sucking on it.
"I can't hear you, baby" He let go of his cock and let it rest against your stomach as both of his hands played with your breasts.
"Yes,-ah- yes"
Holding your breasts, his teeth bit your nipples so hard that you cried out in pain.
"Ah, Lando, it hurts, fuck" You whined. The pain was so stinging it made one tear roll down your cheek.
"Shh, it's okay, baby, it's okay" He cooed you kissing your cheek and now gently caressing your nipples with his thumbs while grinding his cock against your stomach. "You like it when it hurts, don't you baby?"
He moved your panties to the side and positioned his tip at your entrance. "So wet for me" He commented spreading it with his tip all over your slits. Your fingers went down to your clit as he pushed in. The face he made when it first went in, head thrown back, eyes closed, lips slightly open letting out a long moan in relief, it almost made you cum right away.
He stayed still for a moment, not wanting to move because he was so painfully hard that he knew he would come in a matter of seconds and he wanted to at least wait for you.
He pulled you by your thighs even further down on him and then hovered over you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pressed his forehead against yours.
He started thrusting in slow, but deep and hard knocking the air out of your lungs. "C'mon, baby, take it, take it like a big girl" He said holding your face between his hands.
You were so turned on by his words. You loved it so much when he'd be angry like this and then ruthlessly took all of his anger out on you. You could feel yourself dripping down as he kept ravaging you with his cock.
"I-I'm so close, Lan" You whispered.
"Yeah, baby?" He took your leg and lifted it up to wrap them around him. That way he got to thrust even deeper into you, knocking your mind out of your body. "You gonna cum around my cock?" He asked against your skin.
Before you could even answer, you threw your head back against the couch, you gripped his shoulders tightly trying to resist him and get away because the pleasure was so intense you couldn't take it. But he didn't let you escape from under him, he continued to fuck you through your orgasm as you screaming out his name filled his ears.
"That's it. That's a good girl." He praised you kissing your chest to calm you down as you were barely being able to catch your breath.
"You can take it a little longer, love yeah? I'm almost there." The weight of his body was completely pressed against yours, you could feel his heartbeat, see beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he kept pounding into you like his life depended on it, like you were the only thing keeping him alive.
Once you pressed your lips against the sensitive spot on his neck and ran your tongue over it, he lost it. His breath hitched, head tilted back, grip tightened around your waist and soon he was cumming inside you, filling you up to the brim.
His head fell on your shoulder and you wrapped your arms around him, wanting to hold him even closer to you if that was even possible.
When both of your breathing calmed down and your pulses returned to normal, Lando pulled out of you. He watched as his cum rushed out of your pussy at the loss of him and hissed at the sight. "Fuck, baby" He leaned down and kissed your thighs making you blush.
...
The next race weekend, Lando took P1 and you were there to support him. You blended into the group with Max and the rest of his friends including Carla.
You were annoyed that she was here for yet another race and once again doing everything to draw his attention to herself. But you weren't going to let her get the best of you this time.
Although when Lando came closer to all of you to celebrate his victory, she was the first one to go and hug him. At that moment your heart ached and Lando saw the sadness in your eyes as you stood on the side watching him from afar. At that moment, he finally understood what you've been talking about all this time. He felt your hurt through your teary eyes and therefore without a second thought he made his way through the crowd to you, pulling you to himself and trapping you into a tight hug and a passionate kiss in front of thousands of people and cameras before whispering
"It's always you."
#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris blurb#lando norris one shot#f1 smut#f1#f1 one shot#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#f1 fluff
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wasn't me no one in this home of mine voted for anything of the sort and most likely anyone I know didn't either. I forget how many ppl live in the uk sometimes peace and love to the william wanters well and truly
#HONESTLY. not suprised though british mothers in their late 30s-40s i see you grandmas i see u the gay men peeping ur head out the corner#i see the princess fantasy it is not without its flowers i see it all and i meet u with acceptance#hes not ugly tho i'm the type where i don't think anyone really is or i haven't had that sort of reaction to anyone so idk though#also tbh idk how many ppl are actually taking those tests.. unless harry styles was on there because the fans the stans will get their favs#the acalades the little titles if they can with speed could be best juggler best dog shit picker upper best at climbing shit they love it#they love it all. their twitter handles at the top that shit gets cropped in obis paint on their iphone and put on twt like a proud parent#(i get it in that sense though its steering off the william topic matter)#with their kids art. was 1ce real in2 kpop and i got out to my benefit lot of shit long story i'm glad i'm in a better place now#since i got into in in probs objectively my darkest or some of my darkest not that u cant like kpop or talk about it or be in that scape#in a way thats positive or like healthy with me it was just not healthy unfortunately. my relationship is better with it now and i still#interact with content personally and more casually. i-#still have alot of love and appreciation for what ppl meant to me even if its different now i still have so much love for shit. just not so#deeply in the environment yk that round and round#standom as previous.. no doubt at the time i was thirsty for distraction i cudnt handle myself or my life basically my#life feeling like a fuckn tornado that was pissing on me so i probably no matter what were going to find vices but i have no doubt about th#talents and passion and artistry over there. all the racism and colourism n shit that just felt constant had a part#my conduction#what i surrounded me with my landscape because its a lot of inter like personal connections and heavy online bonding n just mess where its#like my fckn life force just i was screaming from the inwards outwards and still deaf to it. for me it was a host it turns out 2 be for man#cant track my gradual change really other than a year or maybe between 2 years we grow still thbink about stuff i hate myself for doing#the change happened gradually and naturally i feel though it all had dramatics its hard to track#there was shit before that when i was even younger and oh hellscape i fear it was bumpy i'm not gonna say it got better with age or smth#cause i dont believe thats true atleast not entirely i hate all of it i some of the connections i made are so key in my growth and i have s#nice wonderful like irrefutable memories i hope ppl r doing well so bad so bad some i even want to talk to again but i know for me i cant#give in 2 that pull and the day if i reconnect i will and hopefully there'll be wonderful ppl to reconnect with in that case to meet me#its all ever changing if i think differently in the future i do i just hope that will be me coming to understand myself and development#being hyper critical of myself tho i talk about me like i jumped through hoops to do detestable shit so its a balancing game and im wonky#its the fans the stans or its the royal family entourage they are vivid in my head or the ppl who came across it and decided to just add-#their 2 sence or saw it and were like hehe this is so unserious im going to be mischevious or take the piss lol#all of which get their acknowledgement its all fun and games truly those who take it serious will and shall however
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Nasty
Summary: You and Logan deal with the aftermath of your mission.
Word Count: 5.4k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: i thought i'd put part 2 at out at the same time just 'cause. enjoy this pure smut!
(and yes, both titles are ariana grande songs, sue me)
warnings/tags: some uses of y/n, pet names, porn no plot, oral sex (m and f receiving), swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, not proofread
Part 1
The mission at the gala and the following one where the X-Men saved the mutants from the trafficking ring went on without a hitch.
But there was one thing you and Logan weren’t the greatest at. Talking about feelings.
You’re very aware that emotions are your specialty, being able to feel how everyone else feels, but you usually despise your own.
Despite the kiss incident at the gala, you and Logan acted normal around each other. The flirty comments to each other didn’t stop, not in the slightest.
You were leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in your hands, watching Logan rummage through the fridge.
“So, doll, you gonna keep ignoring the elephant in the room, or should I spell it out?” Logan’s voice was gruff, but there was that smirk on his face, the one he gave you whenever he knew he was pushing your buttons.
You raised an eyebrow, sipping your coffee slowly, playing it off. “What elephant? There’s just you and your terrible food choices.”
Logan chuckled, grabbing a leftover sandwich and leaning against the counter across from you. “Oh, you know damn well what elephant I’m talking about. You gonna pretend nothing happened?”
“I’m not pretending anything, Logan,” you replied, eyes narrowing slightly. “We kissed. So what? It’s not like it means anything.”
He raised an eyebrow, biting into his sandwich, clearly not buying it. “Is that what you’re telling yourself, Psionix?” he asked, using your code name like it was some kind of challenge.
You hated when he called you that in moments like this. It was like he was reminding you that you could feel his emotions, that you knew there was something more bubbling under the surface. Something you were avoiding.
“Yeah, well, maybe I am,” you shot back, setting your mug down with a little more force than intended.
Logan didn’t back down. “You’re a terrible liar, doll. Always have been.”
You let out an exasperated sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “What do you want me to say, Logan? That I haven’t thought about it? That it didn’t make things... complicated?”
“Complicated, huh?” Logan pushed himself off the counter, his tone teasing but with a serious edge. He walked towards you, closing the distance between you both. “That what you’re afraid of? A little complication?”
You could feel his emotions swirling—interest, concern, a bit of hesitation—but also something more. Something deeper. It wasn’t like Logan to open up, and you weren’t exactly thrilled about digging into your own feelings either.
“What if I am?” you shot back, eyes meeting his. “What if things get... messy?”
Logan’s gaze softened just a bit, though that smug smirk didn’t leave his lips. “Messy’s my specialty, doll. And you can handle messy. You’ve been handling me all this time.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was truth in his words. Despite all the walls both of you had, there was something there. Something neither of you wanted to talk about, but neither of you could avoid.
“And what about you?” you countered, taking a step closer, not backing down. “You gonna pretend like nothing’s going on? Like you’re not... feeling something?”
Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, his jaw tightening. “I don’t pretend about much, especially not with you,” he said, his voice low.
There was a tension in the air now, thicker than usual, and you could feel your heart beating a little faster. You hated how easily he got under your skin, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to stop.
“So what do we do, Logan? Keep flirting, keep dancing around it? Or do we—”
Before you could finish, Logan stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. “We could stop dancing around it anytime, doll. You know that.”
Your breath caught in your throat for a second, the weight of his words hitting you harder than expected. He wasn’t joking, wasn’t teasing anymore. This was serious. And suddenly, you realized just how much you were standing at the edge of something you weren’t sure you were ready for.
But Logan... Logan wasn’t the kind to wait around. Not when he wanted something.
“You ready to stop pretending?” His voice was rough, but there was that familiar glint in his eye.
For a moment, you considered stepping back, saying something sarcastic to deflect, to keep things light like you always did. But you couldn’t.
So, against your better judgment you repeated what you did at the gala. Your hands found Logan’s jaw, the coarse texture of his beard grazing your fingers as you pulled him into a kiss. His lips met yours with a fierceness that made your head spin. It wasn’t soft or tentative like the last time; it was hard, demanding, like he was done with all the talking, the flirting. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, the heat between your bodies immediate, burning through your clothes.
You gasped against his mouth as he pressed you back against the counter, the edge digging into your lower back, but you didn’t care. The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours, hungry, searching. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands moved up your sides, possessive. He didn’t ask for permission. He just took, and fuck, you liked that.
Logan broke the kiss, his lips moving down your neck, nipping at your skin. You tilted your head back, giving him access, your breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts. “Logan—”
“Shut up,” he growled against your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. One hand slid up to cup your breast through your shirt, fingers squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel him pressing against you, hard and insistent, leaving no room for guessing what he wanted.
You arched into him, the heat pooling low in your stomach, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. “I’m not pretending anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm.
He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Good. Neither am I.”
With a rough shove, you sent Logan backward, his body landing hard on the kitchen chair. The scrape of wood against the floor echoed through the room, but neither of you cared. Your thighs straddled his, grinding down as your mouths crashed together in a frenzy of heat, teeth clashing, tongues desperate for more.
Logan’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of arousal through you. You tugged at his hair, breaking the kiss only long enough to catch a ragged breath. His cock pressed thick and hard against you through his jeans, and you felt it pulse as you rolled your hips over him, teasing.
His growl was low, primal, his hands sliding under your shirt, rough fingers kneading the flesh of your sides. You could feel him straining for control, his jaw clenched as he tried not to rip your clothes off right there.
Without another word, you slid off him and dropped to your knees between his legs. Logan’s eyes darkened as you reached for his belt, yanking it open with a sharp tug, the clink of metal punctuating the thick silence. He leaned back, his smirk dangerous as he watched you, those animal eyes locked onto every move you made.
The zipper came down next, your fingers brushing against his thick length straining against the fabric. Logan didn’t flinch, didn’t break eye contact, but the tension in his body said enough. He wanted this as much as you did.
“Fuck, doll, you gonna make me wait?” His voice was low, rough, like he was barely holding it together.
You didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, you pulled him free, his cock springing out, thick and hard in your hand. You stroked him once, slowly, enjoying the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers dug into the arms of the chair.
Then you wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth, slow at first, letting your tongue swirl around the tip, tasting him. Logan’s hand immediately found the back of your head, not pushing, just holding you there, like he needed to feel your mouth on him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips shifting slightly as you took him deeper. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as you slid down, inch by inch, feeling his cock throb against your tongue. Logan’s grip tightened in your hair, his breathing ragged.
You set a rhythm, bobbing your head, your hand stroking what you couldn’t take in. Logan’s grunts and curses filled the air, and you felt a surge of satisfaction knowing how much you were getting to him. His thighs tensed, muscles coiled with that barely-contained need.
“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice strained. “You always did have a smart mouth.”
You hummed around him in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in the way his hand tightened in your hair, the way his hips started to thrust, small, sharp movements as he fought the urge to fuck your throat.
You pulled off with a slick pop, your lips swollen, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock. Logan’s eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths as he stared down at you, his hand still tangled in your hair.
“Up,” he growled, the command rough but filled with need.
You didn’t hesitate, standing quickly as Logan’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you up into his arms. His lips were on yours again, hard and demanding, as he lifted you effortlessly. Before you knew it, you were stumbling through the kitchen, your back slamming into the hallway wall as he kissed you like he was starved for it.
“Bedroom,” he growled against your lips, his voice hoarse with desire.
You barely made it to the bed. Logan was on you before you hit the mattress, his body pinning yours as he ripped your shirt over your head, his teeth nipping at your neck, your collarbone, anywhere he could reach. His hands were everywhere, possessive, greedy, as he shoved your pants down, his fingers teasing your soaked panties.
“Fuck, doll,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re already so fucking wet.”
His fingers grazed over your panties, feeling the dampness soaking through. With a low growl, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and yanked them down in one swift motion, tossing them aside. His gaze burned as he stared at your pussy, glistening and ready for him.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, spreading your legs wider with his hands, positioning himself between your thighs. “You’ve been teasing me long enough.” His rough hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he leaned down, his breath fanning over your swollen clit, teasing you with the promise of what was coming.
You bit your lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but when his tongue flicked out, just barely brushing your clit, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your throat. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “Fuck, Logan,” you groaned, your hips bucking slightly, desperate for more.
He didn’t need any more encouragement. With a growl, his mouth was on you, tongue lashing over your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, each one sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You could feel the heat building in your core, your body responding to every flick of his tongue, every wet slide against your most sensitive spot.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” he muttered between licks, his voice vibrating against your clit, making your back arch off the bed. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth working you over like he was starving for it, like he couldn’t get enough. And fuck, neither could you.
Your moans filled the room, breathless and ragged, each one louder than the last as his tongue worked you closer to the edge. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he devoured you, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard enough to make your toes curl. You could feel the pressure building, feel yourself getting closer and closer to that breaking point.
“Logan,” you gasped, your hips grinding against his face, chasing that release. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
His tongue worked you relentlessly, flicking and lapping at your clit, his growls vibrating through your body, driving you mad with every stroke. Logan didn’t let up, sucking your clit into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure, sending sparks down your spine. His stubble scratched your inner thighs, the burn only adding to the pleasure as he devoured you, like he couldn’t get enough.
"Fuck, you're gonna make me come," you panted, fingers gripping his hair tight, pushing him deeper against you. Your thighs trembled, and Logan groaned, his tongue sliding lower, licking through your folds, teasing your entrance before diving back up to swirl around your swollen clit.
He growled low in his throat, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he held you in place, forcing you to ride his face. His tongue was relentless, flicking back and forth over your clit, each pass sending a shockwave through your core. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your lips as the pressure built inside you, everything coiling tighter and tighter.
"Logan... fuck, I’m gonna—"
He didn’t let you finish, sucking hard on your clit, his tongue swirling faster, pushing you over the edge. Your body jerked, hips bucking against his mouth as the orgasm tore through you, a strangled cry escaping your throat.
"Ahhh, fuck... fuck, Logan!"
Your whole body tensed, thighs squeezing around his head as you came, the pleasure ripping through you in waves. Logan didn’t stop, his mouth working you through the orgasm, licking and sucking every drop as you trembled above him, breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Jesus," you muttered, trying to catch your breath, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Logan chuckled darkly, his hands squeezing your hips as he kissed up your thigh, his lips slick with your arousal.
"Told ya," Logan growled, voice thick with the weight of his hunger. He wiped the slick wetness of your release from his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes hooded and dark, locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. That wolfish grin flashed across his face, knowing damn well he’d had you shuddering beneath him like that.
He was still on his knees between your legs, his body a wall of muscle as he prowled closer, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, the other trailing up the inside of your thigh. His fingers grazed over your soaked folds, and you jolted, still sensitive from his mouth. He smirked at the way you twitched, unable to hide the raw arousal that had never truly ebbed.
"You're a fucking tease, doll." His voice was low, gravelly, lips brushing your ear as his fingers danced between your legs again, slipping over your entrance, teasing just enough to make you squirm.
You gasped, fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as he toyed with you, his fingers sliding against your soaked pussy but never giving you what you wanted. "Maybe I just know what you like," you whispered, breathless, grinning up at him through half-lidded eyes.
Logan growled low in his throat, leaning in to bite at your neck, sharp and possessive. "That so?" His fingers slid inside you then, two thick digits curling deep, stretching you in ways that had you biting back a moan.
"Fuck, Logan…" Your hips rolled against his hand, chasing that delicious friction, your body already wound tight again.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes smoldering as he watched your face twist in pleasure. "That’s it, doll. Show me how bad you want it." His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your back arch off the bed, your breath catching in your throat.
You reached up, hooking your fingers into his belt loops, yanking him closer. "Fuck me," you demanded, voice raw, needy. You couldn’t take it anymore, the teasing, the way he kept pushing you higher without giving you the release you craved.
His grin widened, dangerous and dark. "Patience." But you felt the way he shifted his hips, the weight of his cock straining against his jeans.
"Fuck patience." You reached between you, hand bold as you cupped him through the denim, squeezing just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. His cock jumped in your hand, hard and ready. "I want you inside me, Logan."
That was all it took to snap his restraint. He let out a rough curse and pulled back just enough to shed his clothes, his jeans hitting the floor with a heavy thud. You watched every movement, eyes riveted to the thick length of him, pulsing and ready, the head glistening with pre-cum. He was so fucking hard it made your mouth water.
"Turn over," he growled, voice thick with command, as he yanked you up from the bed. You obeyed without hesitation, flipping onto your stomach, pushing your ass up for him, wanting to feel that heavy weight slide into you, to be filled so completely you’d forget everything but him.
Logan grabbed your hips, dragging you back against him. "Fuck, look at that pussy. So fucking wet for me, doll," he muttered, voice rough with desire. He ran the head of his cock through your folds, slicking himself with your arousal, teasing you again until you whimpered, pushing back against him.
"Please," you panted, desperate now, needing him to just take you already. "I need it, Logan."
He didn’t need to hear another word. With one sharp thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick cock, the feeling so intense it knocked the air from your lungs. You cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets, body taut as you tried to adjust to the sheer size of him.
“Fuck…” you gasped, your voice rough, the word a breathy moan as Logan began to move inside you. The stretch burned at first, but the way his cock filled you, the thickness pressing deep, made your entire body hum with raw, throbbing need.
Logan growled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, primal. “Tight as fuck, doll,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips like a vice, fingers digging into your flesh as he set a punishing rhythm, each thrust slamming into you, pushing you up the bed.
Every thrust had you keening, the pleasure dizzying, your mind blanking to everything except the way Logan filled you, stretched you, claimed you. "Logan… fuck, yes…" you moaned, hips bucking back to meet him, desperate to take him even deeper.
"Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, voice gravelly, dark with lust. His pace quickened, his cock driving into you harder, each thrust sending jolts of electricity through your core, setting you on fire. He was relentless, the heat of him searing, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he leaned over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress.
You pushed back against him, arching your back to take him even deeper. "More," you gasped, voice hoarse with need. "Fuck, Logan, don't stop."
He didn't. If anything, his thrusts became rougher, more demanding, his cock pounding into you with a force that made you cry out, the sound a raw, guttural moan. His grip tightened on your hips, pulling you back onto him with every stroke, driving himself deeper into your soaked, aching pussy.
“Fuck, doll, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he growled, voice rough with need as his hips snapped forward, each thrust deep and brutal, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You love this, don’t you? Love being fucked like this.”
“Y-yes,” you gasped, pushing back harder, your body desperate for more, for everything he could give you. “Fuck, yes, Logan!”
He let out a dark chuckle, low and hungry, and leaned over you, his mouth brushing your ear. “Good girl.” His breath was hot, his voice a growl as he pounded into you, hips slamming against your ass. “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”
You whimpered, the sound high-pitched and breathless, your body trembling beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. His cock stretched you to the limit, each deep, hard thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, driving you higher and higher, the pressure building, coiling tight in your belly.
“Logan… I’m—” The words barely made it past your lips before you felt yourself shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, the pleasure so intense it knocked the breath from your lungs. You screamed his name, your pussy clenching tight around him, squeezing him so hard it drew a rough groan from his throat.
Logan didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his thrusts hard and unrelenting as he fucked you through your orgasm, driving you higher, deeper into that blissful haze. “Fuck,” he growled, voice hoarse as he felt you clench around him, your walls milking his cock, your body trembling beneath him. “You’re so fucking tight, doll… squeezing me so goddamn hard…”
Logan’s eyes were practically feral, his grip on your hips ironclad as he flipped you onto your back. You barely had time to catch your breath before his body was on top of yours again, pressing you into the mattress. The weight of him was heavy, grounding, but it did nothing to dim the heat burning between your legs.
His lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, teeth nipping at your lower lip until you opened for him, letting him devour you like he had your pussy moments ago. His hand found your breast, squeezing hard, tweaking your nipple until you gasped against his mouth. You were slick with sweat, still trembling from the orgasm that had just ripped through you, but you wanted more.
“Logan…” You moaned his name, your legs falling open in invitation, your body still aching with need. The feeling of his cock, still hard and throbbing against your thigh, had you arching into him, desperate for him to fill you again.
He smirked down at you, one hand sliding down your side, brushing over your still-sensitive clit, making you twitch and gasp. “So eager, doll,” he growled, his fingers teasing your entrance, gathering the slickness there. “Didn’t get enough already?”
“You’ve been teasing me for months,” you shot back, your voice breathless but sharp, your hands grabbing at his biceps, pulling him closer. “About time you deliver.”
That earned you a low, dangerous laugh from him, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re a fucking tease,” he muttered, his fingers sliding inside you, curling in just the right way to make your back arch off the bed. “You think I haven’t noticed?”
You gasped, rolling your hips against his hand, already close again. “Fuck, Logan…”
He growled, his fingers pulling out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. You barely had a chance to whimper before he was between your legs again, the head of his cock sliding through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You were wet, dripping, your pussy still clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.
“You ready for this, doll?” Logan’s voice was low, gravelly, as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock teasing you, just barely pressing inside. You could feel the heat of him, the thickness that was about to stretch you again, and it made your head spin.
“Yes,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Please, Logan, fuck me.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick cock. You cried out, the feeling overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure as your body adjusted to him. He didn’t stop, didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. He pulled back, only to slam into you again, each thrust deep, hard, and unrelenting.
“Fuck, Logan…” Your voice was hoarse, your body trembling beneath him as he set a punishing pace. He was so deep inside you, filling you completely, and every time he thrust, it sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you cry out, moan, beg for more.
“Goddamn, you’re perfect,” Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he fucked you into the mattress. His eyes were dark, burning with lust as he watched your face twist in pleasure, your mouth open, gasping for breath. “So fucking good.”
“Logan… oh god, yes…” You were babbling now, barely able to form coherent words as he pounded into you, each thrust driving you higher, closer to that edge again. Your nails dug into his skin, your hips bucking against him, desperate to take him even deeper.
Logan's lips curled into that feral grin, sweat dripping down his temples as he watched you lose yourself beneath him. "Fuckin' beautiful," he growled, hips snapping forward, burying himself balls-deep inside her. "Takin' me so damn good, doll. That sweet little cunt of yours—" His voice was hoarse, breath ragged as he kept pounding into you, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.
Your hands shot up to his shoulders, dragging him down until his chest was pressed to your, needing to feel him, all of him. "God, Logan… I can feel everything…" she whispered, voice broken with need. Your psionics were kicking in, amplifying the intensity between them, feeling his hunger, his desire, like it was your own. You could barely think, your mind a whirlwind of lust and pleasure.
"Yeah?" Logan's voice rumbled against your ear, low and dangerous, and he drove into you harder, grinding his cock against your G-spot. "You feel that, huh?" His lips brushed your neck, teeth grazing your skin just before he bit down, marking you. The rough scrape of his beard against your sensitive skin only sent you spiraling deeper into the haze of pleasure.
You whimpered, legs trembling as you wrapped them around his waist, heels digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer. "Logan, fuck!" You could barely get the words out, your body on fire, every nerve lit up with need. Your pussy clenched tight around him, slick and hot, as his cock pounded relentlessly into you.
He growled in response, one hand moving under your head as he yanked your head back so he could look into your eyes. "Look at me, doll," he ordered, his voice a rough command. "Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you."
The weight of him pressed you deeper into the mattress as his hips drove forward, cock burying into your slick heat, every inch of him making you feel like you were about to split apart, but in the best way. Your lips parted in a sharp gasp, your body jerking from the intensity. “Logan—fuck,” you groaned, legs trembling as you tightened them around his waist, dragging him even closer. His cock filled you, stretching you so perfectly that you couldn’t help but whimper, the sound ragged, desperate.
His lips curled into a smirk as he watched you struggle to catch your breath, watched you squirm beneath him, utterly wrecked and begging for more. “You feel that, huh?” His voice was a low, dangerous rasp. “Feel how deep I’m inside you? Every inch of my cock stretching this pussy of yours?” He leaned down, his teeth grazing your ear, sending a fresh jolt of electricity through your already sensitized body.
You were barely coherent, your nails digging into his shoulders, desperate to hang on as Logan’s rhythm grew faster, rougher. “Fuck, Logan,” you gasped, hips bucking up to meet his every brutal thrust. His cock slammed into you, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that had you seeing stars, your back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry.
Logan grunted, his grip on your hair easing just enough to let you move your head, but he didn’t let you escape the intensity of his gaze. He wanted to see you fall apart for him, wanted to watch you lose control, knowing he was the one doing it to you. “That’s it, doll,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. “Fucking take it. Let me feel how much you want this.”
You whimpered, biting your lip as you struggled to form words. “I—I need more…” Your voice was raw, shaky, but still laced with that bold edge that had always kept Logan coming back, that constant push and pull between you. You could feel the heat building again, that tight coil in your belly about to snap, and you needed more—needed him to take you higher, harder, faster.
Logan growled, a sound so deep and feral it sent shivers down your spine. “Greedy little thing,” he muttered, pulling out just enough to leave you aching, empty, before slamming back into you. “I’ll give you more.”
You cried out, fingers gripping his biceps as your entire body rocked from the force of his thrusts. Every inch of your skin was on fire, every nerve ending lit up, all of it focused on where his cock was buried deep inside you, pounding relentlessly. “Fuck, Logan!” Your voice was a ragged moan, the words half-gasped as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.
“Yeah, you love this,” he growled, hips snapping forward with each brutal thrust, your body jolting beneath him. “You love being fucked like this, don’t you? Love how hard I’m fucking you?” His breath was hot against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin just hard enough to make you gasp.
“Yes! Fuck, yes, Logan—don’t stop,” you begged, your hips bucking up to meet his, desperate to feel every inch of him as he filled you, stretched you. Your walls clenched around him, slick and hot, your body already trembling with the buildup of another orgasm. “I’m so fucking close…”
Logan’s grin was dark, dangerous, his eyes locked on yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl,” he growled, his voice a rough command that made your entire body shudder. “Come for me, doll. Let me feel you come around my cock.”
His words were all it took. That tight coil in your belly snapped, sending you crashing over the edge. Your body convulsed, every muscle tightening as the orgasm tore through you, the pleasure so intense you couldn’t even scream. Your pussy clenched hard around his cock, milking him, pulling him deeper as you rode the waves of pleasure.
Logan groaned, his hips slamming into you harder, faster, driving you through your orgasm, prolonging every pulse of pleasure. “Fuck, Y/N…” His voice was hoarse, thick with need as he felt you tighten around him, your body trembling beneath him. His rhythm stuttered, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate.
You were still gasping for breath, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, but you weren’t done yet. Not even close. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him even closer, feeling his cock pulse inside you. “Come for me, Logan,” you whispered, your voice low, seductive. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
That was it. Logan let out a rough curse, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you one last time, his cock buried deep inside you. You felt him pulse, felt the heat of his release flood into you, and it sent another shiver of pleasure down your spine. He groaned your name, his body going rigid as he emptied himself into you, his breath hot against your skin.
For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you still catching your breath, still tangled in each other. You could feel the slick heat of your combined releases dripping between your thighs, but you didn’t care. You just lay there, wrapped up in Logan’s heat, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest.
“Jesus,” you finally muttered, your voice hoarse, breathless. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”
Logan chuckled, low and rough, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Told ya, doll. I don’t do half-measures.” He lifted his head, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “But you didn’t either, did you?”
You grinned, still breathless, still riding the high of what had just happened. “Guess not.”
tags: @freythecrazyfae, @its-in-the-woods
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine smut
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Kuroo has always had a bad hair.
Ever since he was a kid, one of his main physical traits is his atrocious bed hair. He wakes up like that because of how hard he presses his pillows to his ears while he sleeps, so it's not really a habit he can change easily. Also, he has never had a problem with it, especially because his pretty wife, you, said it's one of your favorite parts of him.
You always talk about how you love his hair, even if you still call him "rooster head" sometimes. You love to pet it, you love the shape, the color and everything involving his hair. Not even he is capable of understanding the "attraction" you feel for it, so he just enjoys it.
So yeah, he doesn't really hate his hair, and overtime, he learned how to keep it more "tamed" and "behaved". So he thought his hair problems were over. No more bad hair days.
Well, he thought.
"Stupid... hair tie...." Kuroo murmured, voice coming out muffled because of the pink butterfly pin with glitter that was on his mouth. His eyes held a look of extreme concentration, akin to a hunter aiming for a deer in the middle of the woods.
He was serious. In fact, he had never been so serious in his life. Because this wasn't any occasion. It was the first time you had ever let him dress up your 5 year old daughter for school. He couldn't mess this up.
Her hair needed to be perfect. He just seemed to forget he had never braided a hair before in his life.
"Daddy, are you alright?" His little girl asked, feet moving around and hands on her lap, waiting patiently for her dad to finish the "amazing hairstyle" he promised her.
If only she knew.
"Yeah, sweetheart!" Tetsuro said, drops of sweat running down his forehead. "Just wait a little more!" He said, taking his phone off his pocket while still holding a lock of hair and still with the butterfly pin in his mouth.
He then started watching a video on youtube. It's title was "How to make a braid with only 3 steps".
"Ah, so it's actually done with 3 locks of hair, not only 2!"
He then began treading his daughter's hair with such precision that it was scary. His eyes were focused and it seemed like he couldn't pay attention to anything else. It was only him, the hair ties, and the hair. Nothing else.
After a while, things were actually going somewhere.
No way. He was almost getting it finished!
"Tetsu, honey, are you guys ready?" He heard you calling from the kitchen
"One sec, love!" Kuroo shouted back. "Now I just need to do this and... AHA! My masterpiece is ready!"
"How do I look, daddy?" His daughter asked, smiling brightly at him. Even if she had some missing teeth, Kuroo swore it was the prettiest smile he had ever seen in his life. Of course it was. It was just like your's, afterall.
"You look amazing sweetie. Like a real princess! You're your dad's princess, you know that, right?"
"Thank you dad!" She smiled again, hugging him strongly. He hug her back, careful not to touch her hair in the process. He couldn't ruin his hard work!
"Now, why don't we go show mama how great you look, hm?" He crouched down and smiled at her
"Of course! Let's go dad!" She laughed, grabbing his hands and pulling him downstairs.
She really was the cutest kid Kuroo has ever seen.
"Okay sweetheart, close your eyes!" Kuroo said, peeking from the kitchen's door. "Our daughter wants to surprise you with her amazing hair - the one I braided, of course"
"Sure, Tetsu! I can't wait to see this great work of art!" You giggled, using a sarcatic tone.
I mean, look at his hair. He couldn't have an experience with braiding. It was clear the hair would look utterly horrible.
"Hey, I sensed that sarcasm!" He said, which made you giggle "Mind you, she loved it!"
"If you say so. I'm gonna close my eyes now!" You smiled, putting your hands on front of your eyes to show them you wouldn't cheat and open your eyes
"No peaking, mama!" You heard your daughter saying, her little footsteps making you realize she entered the kitchen.
"Yeah, no peaking!" Kuroo agreed.
Gosh, they really were the same.
"Okay, okay! I'm not gonna peek"
"Now, I'm gonna count to three and say 'now'. Then you can open your eyes!" Kuroo said, voice showing how excited he was
"Okay!" You smiled
"1..."
You were really starting to think he did a great job. He looked so proud of it, after all!
"2..."
You heard your daughter giggling in the background. Maybe you really judged your husband wrong. Maybe he did know how to braid hairs.
"3..."
You were sure it would be at least decent. If it was, then you'd let your daughter wear it to school. If they were both happy, why not?
"Now!"
You then remove your hands from your face and open your eyes, meeting the most...
Atrocious braid you've ever seen.
"She's not going like that to school." You deadpanned, looking at the hair and wondering why he thought this looked good. Had he never seen a braid before in his life?
"HUH? WHY NOT?" Kuroo shouted, his chest that was once proudly puffed up now deflating
"Why not, mama?" Your daughter started tearing up, looking up at you with big, pleading eyes.
"It looks..." terrible. Is what you really wanted to say.
But looking at your the sad faces of your family members, you didn't find the strength to do so. And so, with a sigh, you smiled and said
"Too good! Other kids will be jealous!"
"For a moment there I thought you were judging my hairstyling habilities!" Kuroo laughed, that obnoxious laugh of his that you loved so much echoing through the halls
"Oh!" Your daughter also laughed, the same way her dad did "There's no problem! I can tell dad to do their hairstyles too!"
"Great idea, sweetie!" Kuroo agreed with her, eyes sparkling up
"I think... it's better if you don't"
"What do you mean by that?" Kuroo asked, looking straight at you with a very sad face.
"Just... you don't seem to have a talent with hairs."
"But you told me you love my hair!" Tetsuro pouted
"I do. And I love you, too!" You kissed his nose, making him smirk at you.
"Not enough. What about... here?"
He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a kiss on the lips. It was full of all the love and passion he held for you and the family you both created together.
"Ewww, daddy and mommy are kissing! Gross!" Your daughter put her tongue out and did a "throwing up" mimic, making you both laugh.
"Now, let's take you to school, sweetheart!"
You smiled, leading both your husband and your daughter to the car.
You really loved your family, even if Kuroo didn't know how to deal with hairs sometimes.
You wonder if he would "get along" better with his son's hair. The son that he still doesn't know is in your belly right now.
Well, he still has 7 months to practice for when the time comes.
~ A/N: FINALLY WROTE A REQUEST!! It was so fun writing this omG. I love healthy families 💕. ALSO, first hq fic!! 🥳🥳
Masterlist
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#kuroo testuro#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu timeskip#hq x reader#kuroo haikyuu#hq kuroo#hq#haikyuu kuroo tetsuro#kuroo tetsuro x you#kuroo tetsuro fluff#kuroo tetsuro imagine#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff
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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known
pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara
summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office
warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death
word count: 4.1k
notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)
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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.
You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.
Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.
Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.
You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.
When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.
How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.
Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.
The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.
The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.
Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.
That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.
“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.
“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.
“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.
The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.
“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.
“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”
Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.
He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”
He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.
“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”
You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”
He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.
“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.
Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.
First though, you had to find Gwen.
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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao
NEXT CHAPTER
#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#into the spider verse#spider-woman reader#across the spiderverse#fem!reader#fanfic#fanfiction#spiderman#spider man#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderverse
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Daddy kink Wolverine x reader… just throwing that out there
Logan Howlett x Gambit variant male reader
Ficlet
Reader is a Gambit variant, cuz I love Gambit… I have no idea how to write accents though, so you’ll just have to imagine it. This isn’t as long as my other ficlets, but I just needed to get it out my system. There is also no outright written smut, but you guys will live.
Deadpool and wolverine spoilers ahead
Two Gambits was an experience, any member of your small resistance in the void could back said claim. Most of the time none of them could pick up on what you and Remy were talking about, since you both slid into your mother tongue on most occasions. Unlike Remy, you had had a life before being thrown into the Void. Apparently, you were only meant to be the horseman of death for a while before returning to the Gambit, but instead you had become one with this new part of yourself, meaning you needed to be gotten rid of.
Your life sense, as an avatar of death, was what let Laura find Wade and Logan so easily, and how you guys could avoid Nova and her folks as well. Seeing Logans disregard for Remy and the rest had just made you laugh, speaking in the same accented voice as Remy, making Wade make even more comments about dialect coaches and tongue twisting. The only tongue twisting you were gonna do, would have to be a bit more intimate though, your sentence ended with a short wink shot Logans way.
Maybe it was nostalgia that had you picking on Logan the night before your big surprise attack on Nova. The original Logan from your universe had never been an X-men either, not for long at least, but he had always been in your circles. It had led to multiple rolls in the hay together, so to speak, but in the end, he had even sided with the X-men to take you and the other horsemen down. Thinking back, you could never figure out if he was sad to see you go, but part of you were happy to see him finally looking comfortable by the x-men’s side.
You were both pleasantly buzzed when you crawled into his lap, throwing your long coat and headgear to the ground as you got comfortable. His hands were so rough and calloused on your hips, Logans voice deep and growly as you smirked down at him. Who would have thought that the wolverine would be into being called daddy. The moment the word left your lips, just to be a tease about it, his pupils seemed to blow wide open and before you knew it, you found yourself on your back.
Grumbles of Cajun French left you as Logan ripped through your pants with that inhumane strength of his, looking half feral with that sneer on his lips. The ferocity lessened when that title left your lips again, hands settled on his sideburns as you murmured out accented begs, soft “daddy, daddy, daddy” passing your lips.
With how wild Logan had been acting in the beginning, you honestly thought hed fuck you like he hated you, like you were just stress relief. But to your shock, it became something more akin to lovemaking. Sure, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave dark bruises, and covered your neck and shoulders in enough hickeys to make even Remy blush, but he was surprisingly soft.
And every time that word left your lips, Logan just seemed to melt into it more and more, his usual growling and snarling more akin to a deep rumbled purr against your chin as he moved you as he pleased. It was so intimate, you almost teared up, and that soft almost vulnerable look on Logans face made you think maybe he felt that way too. He kissed like you were something special and precious instead of just another partner to warm his bed, something you had so rarely felt before.
Slumped together and spent made you wonder if this meant anything at all. Or were you two just fellow broken souls who’d lost everything and everybody, and who could only find comfort in another just as shattered person. Feeling Logans arms around you made you at least want to survive and see, who knew, maybe there was space for another Gambit wherever Logan was gonna go after this.
#male reader#logan howlett#wolverine#x men#x-men#marvel#logan howlett headcanon#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x male reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine x male reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine headcanon#marvel imagine#marvel headcanon#marvel x male reader#marvel x reader#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool and wolverine x male reader#deadpool and wolverine x reader#xmen x male reader#xmen x reader#x men imagine#x men headcanon#x men x male reader#x men x reader#deadpool and wolverine imagine#deadpool and wolverine headcanon#x-men imagine
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O4 stuck with you — screaming and fighting !
scaramouche x gender neutral reader
You and Scaramouche were dragged backstage and away from prying eyes, faces flushed and chests rising as the adrenaline from the argument on stage had yet to wear off. The dressing room was still, only filled with you both throwing insults at one another. The rest of your group members shared sheepish looks with one another, deciding to let you both get it out of your system.
As soon as the door was tightly shut you whirled around to face Scara.
“You just always have to get the last word, don’t you?” you asked, stepping closer to him.
“You’re the one who started yelling at me, I was just defending myself,” Scaramouche replied, his tone equally heated, but his posture was much more composed than you.
“You’re the one who told me to give up,” you accused.
“Yeah, give up the trophy so I could hold it,” Scara sighed.
“Yeah, as if you deserve to hold it.”
“Now that you mention it, I do deserve it more than you.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to actually work for something,” you glared, voice laced with contempt, “You probably get everything handed to you by your mom.”
He glanced away, abruptly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t talk. Your voice is even more unpleasant when you’re whining.”
Naturally, you kept talking
“That’s the only reason you’re even here with the rest of us,” you continued, letting your jealousy cloud your senses, “I can’t be the only one who thinks that.”
Scaramouche’s face hardened. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, shoving his way past you to leave the dressing room before turning around one last time.
“Nobody even knew she was my mother until I became a trainee. I used a different name on the application forms. But if hanging onto that little fact makes you feel better about being so pathetic then be my fucking guest.”
And with that he slammed the door behind him.
You hated the way he could make you inexplicably self-conscious. It used to be a foreign sensation, one left behind long ago in insecure adolescence.
You stood there, breathing heavily, as the door swung shut. The room was silent, everyone stunned by the intensity of the confrontation.
Lumine stepped up and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, slowly guiding you outside to cool off.
“We’re also gonna head back,” Aether awkwardly laughed, grabbing Childe and Kazuha by their collars and dragging them out.
“So, that just happened.”
“Shut up, Venti.”
“We really need to broaden your vocabulary, Y/n. Your insults could be better.”
“You too, Fischl! Zip it!”
stuck with you!
masterlist — prev | next
begging u guys to let me use ur usernames as fans in this au pls let me make u a crazy stantwt user xx but pls comment on the masterlist so i see it
also everyone saying scara keeps eating yn up w insults is sending me 😭😭
title from the way i loved you by ts it suits scarayn so well
synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!
notes — 👍 leave me comments and asks instead of begging for updates pleek i need motivation to post more
taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic
#scaramouche x reader smau#scaramouche x yn#scaramouche x gender neutral reader#scaramouche smau#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche texts#stuck with you smau
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basic needs | jjk, myg
title: basic needs
pairing: jungkook x f!reader, yoongi x f!reader
rating/genre: m, smut, roommates au
summary: missing sex while being stuck in your apartment with your two roommates during quarantine is being the worst nightmare you could've imagined. fortunately, you're not the only one who's touch starved.
warnings: sexual tension, getting caught during sex, voyeurism, edging, dirty talk, protected and unprotected sex (pls be safe y'all), creampie, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), cum eating, finger sucking, hair pulling, praising, begging, reader gets called a whore once, a little yoongi x jungkook 👀.
wordcount: 6k
note: okay... i don't know where this came from like i didn't even know i had all of this in me 🧍🏻♀️ i kept gasping at my own writing, i think i got too carried away haha i just hope you like it. also pls keep in mind english is noth my first language !! let's go !
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yoongi has been in his room all afternoon, something about working on a new track, and jungkook is currently taking a shower so you have the living room for yourself, some old sitcom playing on the background but you're paying more attention to your phone. that's until you hear footsteps coming into the living room from the corridor.
"hey, loser." jungkook greets you as he ruffles his damp hair from the shower with his hands.
you hate yourself for pausing to look at his toned body, the fucker walked out of the bathroom shirtless. you blame it on your lack of sex.
"what are you watching?" he doesn't seem to notice or care about you looking at his abs, his eyes narrowed towards the tv while he puts on the shirt he was grabbing.
"i'm not really watching anything... you can play whatever you want." you try to act unbothered when he decides to grab both of your legs and raise them a little to sit on the couch to then let them fall on his lap, letting you stay lying down. his warm hands on your bare legs make you get goosebumps and you pray he doesn't notice.
what the hell is happening to you? get it together, it's just jungkook.
"wanna watch a movie?" jungkook looks at you and starts to run his fingertips through your legs in a soothing way. you're gonna go crazy over how nice it feels after being touch starved for so long.
"sure." you shrug, trying to focus on your twitter timeline and not on his hands caressing your legs.
one of his hands moves away from your legs to grab the remote on the armrest of the couch and soon after he's opening the netflix app on the tv. you turn your head to look at him when you feel his free hand starting to caress your skin again while he looks through the movies catalog. he's not looking at you so you take the opportunity to really look at his hand.
the inked hand looks strangely nice against your pale skin. his hands are actually really nice, they're big too, you wonder how they would feel–
"anything in mind?" his voice thanfully brings you back to reality and you panic, quickly looking up at his face. he's still not looking at you.
it's impossible he knows you were staring at him, right?
"what?" you mutter with wide eyes and he finally throws you a quick glance before looking back at the tv.
"any movie you'd like to watch?"
oh.
"uh... i don't really have any in mind, you can play what you want."
"sure there's not any cheesy romantic movie you want to watch?" he's teasing you now. it's not the first time he's complained about you always watching romantic movies.
"shut up, i know you like them too," and he does. you've caught him tearing up that time you watched the notebook together. "just play something already."
"i don't know what to play, though." he keeps scrolling through all of the movies.
"okay. keep scrolling and close your eyes, stop whenever you want to and open your eyes. we'll watch that." you propose and he narrows his eyes as if he's thinking about it but ends up nodding. "close your eyes then."
you see him closing his eyes and hear the sound of the scrolling on the tv so you keep staring at him in case he cheats.
"that one." jungkook stops and opens his eyes just at the same time you turn to the tv.
"i don't know that one." you mutter after reading the title.
"a romantic one, you won." he teases again while he silently reads the synopsis and you sigh, rolling your eyes back.
"c'mon, play it."
you're pleased when the movie turns out to be kinda good. it's just another really cliché romantic story but you love movies like that. jungkook is enjoying it too even though he tries to act it out. you smile each time he makes a comment about the movie, he can never shut up when watching something.
"stuff like that doesn't happen in real life." he says and you let out a chuckle.
"it's a movie, kook." tou reply and try not to think about his hands still caressing your legs. it's been like that during all the movie, maybe he hasn't even noticed he's still doing it.
it's nothing new that jungkook is a really touchy person, he's always been touchy with you and even with yoongi, he likes to cuddle, likes to touch your hair. but this time it feels so different because of the lack of touch you've been having. it is so embarrassing to admit how nice his hands feel on you.
never in two years living with him would you have imagined jungkook could be quiet during a movie until a sex scene comes up. he suddenly goes quiet. his hand stops moving.
it's awkward. it's always awkward to watch a sex scene with someone else. if you were watching the movie with your best friend it would be totally different, but this is jungkook, your roommate, your roommate you don't have any type of relationship outside this apartment.
you feel tense, your whole body feels tense, and you pray that he doesn't notice. but you flinch when his hand squeezes your thigh a little too hard.
"oh shit, sorry." he apologizes quickly with a chuckle that seems way too forced.
good, you're both tense and awkward.
"don't worry." you reply just as quickly and he nods before turning back to the tv. he looks so focused on the movie, like he's holding his breath. you only realize you've been staring when he looks back at you.
"you okay?" jungkook is looking at you with a soft smile but also with something in his eyes you've never really seen on him.
"y-yeah," you wanna punch yourself in the face for stuttering but manage to move your legs off his lap to stand up from the couch. "i need something to drink, you keep watching the movie." your bare feet are already guiding you to the kitchen when you hear him humming.
maybe you end up spending too much time in the kitchen. you chug down a glass of water as soon as you get there but when you're finished you leave the glass on the sink and then you lean back on the isle, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down.
you hate how you can still feel jungkook's touch on your legs, how he looked so immersed in the movie, how you can't stop thinking about him squeezing a little too hard when the girl in the movie let out a loud moan, how his gaze was so dark when he looked at you, how you needed to feel his hands on you again.
god, you really need to have sex.
the door creaking open makes you snap out of your thoughts and look up. you quickly straighten up and clear your throat. jungkook is right there by the door looking at you.
"hey," he says nonchalantly and walks to the fridge. "you okay?" his voice is quiet as he grabs the bottle of orange juice.
"yeah! perfectly fine." you nod while he takes a sip of the juice.
he hums and closes the bottle. "you were taking too long, you're gonna miss the rest of the movie."
"yeah, i-"
"i'm not dumb, y/n. you can say you were uncomfortable because of the movie." he chuckles and you feel so stupid.
"no! i wasn't uncomfortable.. it's just- i-" you struggle to find the words and just feel even more stupid
"what is it?" he arches an eyebrow and walks to stand next to you, leaning back against the kitchen isle too.
"i just... fuck, i need to have sex." you snap and run your hands through your hair in frustration. "i'm gonna go crazy if i have to stay inside this house one more fucking day. i haven't had sex in three months."
"we've been quarantined for a month." jungkook points out looking at you with narrowed eyes like he's about to say something else.
"i know, shut up." you stop him before he dares to tease you for it.
"i get it." he says after a few seconds in silence and now you're the one frowning and looking at him.
"huh?"
"i need to have sex too."
oh.
"i get your frustration, sometimes i feel like i'm gonna go crazy too." he looks forward, avoiding your stare.
"oh yeah, i'm sure you're not used to not having a girl bouncing on your dick every single night." the comment was meant to tease him but you just end up feeling your heart start beating too fast at the thought of bouncing on a dick too.
you place your hands on the isle right behind your back and jump a little to sit on top of it, hissing a little because of the cold surface on your exposed thighs.
"hey, it wasn't like that before quarantine!" jungkook whines and pouts like a child and it causes a chuckle to escape your lips. "i wish, though."
"you're gross."
"as if you didn't want to bounce on a dick every single night." he looks at you with an arched eyebrow and a little smirk.
a weird feeling between your legs makes you close them instantly and you swear you can see jungkook looking down really quick before turning and walking back to the fridge to leave the juice bottle back in. when he turns around again you have to fight back a gasp at the sight of the tent he has on his sweatpants. jungkook is hard.
it's embarrasing how bad you need some dick now, it really is, but you look down and close your legs even tighter.
"i should... go to sleep, it's kinda late." you mutter and as soon as you're gonna hop off the counter there's a hand right next to your thigh on the counter.
"wait." jungkook says and you have to look up, he's standing right in front of you.
"yeah?" your voice is just as quiet as before.
"did you get worked up watching the movie?" he asks with a little knowing smile and you want to die from embarrassment.
"no!" you lie, pushing him back a little. "i didn't." you shake your head but he only chuckles, your head is lowering down again.
"it's okay, y/n." his hand brushes against your exposed thigh from where it's placed on the counter and you shiver.
"i didn't." you insist even though you know you're being so fucking obvious.
"open your legs."
a whine escapes your lips at the simple words and you're so embarrassed you wanna die, your face feels so hot.
"jungkook..." you don't want to look up at him but he just moves even closer.
"i know," he coos like he's sorry for you. and it is hot. "it's been so long since someone has talked to you like this, right?"
you just hum in response and shiver again when he pushes one of your strands of hair behind your ear.
"you need someone to take care of you, right?" he purrs, his lips softly brushing against your ear.
"fuck." you sigh and finally look up. "jungkook."
"you need it just as much as me." he says looking right into your eyes. "if you let me..."
"please."
you can't even think straight anymore.
"please, what?"
you don't answer, just spread your legs. he closes his eyes and exhales through his nose.
"y/n."
"please, touch me." you don't think you've ever heard your voice come out so whiny but jungkook seems to like it because he's immediately taking the last step forward he can take and gets between your thighs, placing his hands on your thighs.
"say that again." he says, looking down at your lips.
"touch me." you don't even think about it, because that would probably fuck everything up. it's better this way.
jungkook looks down between your bodies and one of his hands goes up your thigh until it reaches the fabric of your shorts, then it goes up to the elastic waistband. you keep your eyes on his face while he slips his hand under your shorts and finds the wet patch in your panties with his fingers. the groan that leaves his lips when he gets to feel how wet you are is louder than the moan you let out at the same time.
"holy fuck, you're so wet." his fingers start moving slowly against your clothed folds.
"fuck, kook." you sigh and move your hips even closer to him, trying to chase the feeling of his fingers on you.
"mhh... i know," jungkook coos again and you know you're gonna go crazy if he keeps taking to you like that. "feels good, right?" he hums and you're about to respond when he pushes your panties to the side and really touches you.
"fuck." you throw your head back as he runs his fingers through your wet folds.
"god, you're dripping. making a mess down here." jungkook groans and looks up at you. you must be a blushing mess already, your cheeks are burning and you literally feel lightheaded even if you haven't even done anything yet. "please, let me kiss you." he almost begs and you suddenly feel like you're gonna melt right on that counter.
before he can ask again you're throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss. you don't know if you're really fucking turned on or if he's just a really good kisser but you melt into the kiss. jungkook swallows the moans that escape your lips when he slips a finger inside so easily and starts fucking you with it.
"kook..." you moan against his lips. it feels so good to be touched again that your legs are already shaking.
"pretty." jungkook says and starts moving down, leaving a couple kisses on your jaw before kissing and sucking on your neck.
"jungkook- fuck." you sigh, tugging at his hair desperately. "seriously, it's been... it's been so long."
"i know." jungkook hums against your neck and sucks a mark on it as he adds another finger inside you.
"feels so good." you moan and a little squeak slips out of your mouth when he curls his fingers inside of you and finds that sweet spot. "it's so... fuck, it's so soon but i'm gonna cum, kook." you don't even have the mind to be embarrassed about it. it feels too good.
but jungkook suddenly stops kissing your neck and pulls back completely, his hand moving away from inside your pants. the complain about to slip out of your mouth dies in your throat when you see him sucking on his fingers and groaning.
"fuck, so sweet."
you're gonna go crazy.
"your feet on the ground, and turn around." he orders and you're so desperate you obey right away, jumping from the counter and turning around to give him your back. "you need to tell me if you really want this because it's gonna be easier to just stop now." one of his hands finds your waist and he pulls you against his body, you moan at the feeling of his clothed hard dick against your ass.
"yes, fuck, yes please." you breathe out and feel his hands on the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down immediately along with your panties. "wait, wait."
"mh?"
"yoongi, he's home." you mentally applaud your brain for being rational enough to remember you're not alone in the house.
"he doesn't leave his room for hours, don't worry about." he shrugs and you can see him pulling his sweatpants down.
"but- ah!" you whine when he pushes one of your feet further to the side so your legs spread a little more. "jungkook..." you want to insist on the fact that you're not alone but his fingers find your pussy again.
"you're fucking dripping." he sighs and easily slips two fingers inside, making you put your hand on your mouth not to be loud. "fuck, so tight."
you can't help but bend down on the counter, pushing your ass towards him to chase his fingers. jungkook straight up moans at the sight.
"please, need you inside." you whimper when he adds a third finger and starts fucking you with them at a pace that drives you crazy.
"what was that?" he asks and moves even faster. the fucker is teasing you.
"kook, need you to fuck me."
he doesn't seem to think about it twice before he reaches for one of the kitchen drawers where a box of condoms is hidden and takes one out. you can notice he's trying to hold himself back and take his time with you but he's just as eager as you, so he can't slow down now.
"you sure about this, right?" he asks. you're looking at him over your shoulder as he rolls the condom down his cock.
"i'm fucking dripping, kook. of course i'm sure." you're starting to get anxious, you wiggle your ass just to let him know you're ready for him.
a little sigh leaves your mouth when jungkook rubs his tip against your folds, just when you think he's about to slip inside he just rubs it again.
"fucking tease." you mutter with your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the counter. "just fuck m- oh!" you can't help the moan that leaves your mouth when he slips inside all the way.
"shit, so tight." jungkook hisses behind you and you whine, your walls clenching so hard around him. his hands grip on your hips so hard you're sure it's gonna leave a mark.
"it's been.. too long- fuck." you remind him as he pulls back a little just to thrust inside again.
"yeah, me too, i'm not gonna last." He warns and you almost giggle because at least you're both equally desperate.
"i don't care, just make me cum." you beg through a moan when he thrusts inside again.
"come here." one of his arms wraps around your waist and straightens you up so your back is arched against his chest, keeping you in place. you're both still wearing your shirts and your pants and underwear are just pooling by your ankles, so horny you didn't even waste time to get undressed.
"holy fuck!" you gasp when his thrusts hit a different way in the new angle and soon after, jungkook's hand is over your mouth.
"want every fucking neighbor to hear you?" he whispers against your ear and you feel your walls clenching around him again. "fuck, y/n, keep doing that and i'll cum in two seconds." his hand drops from your mouth to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it but not adding any pressure, just keeping you in place.
"so big." you whimper helplessly, your hands still flat on the counter because you feel like your legs could betray you right now. "you feel so fucking good."
you feel his hand closing a little around your neck and your eyes roll back at the feeling, he starts fucking you even faster. there are drops of sweat rolling down your forehead already but you don't care, not when you're finally having a cock inside of you. and god, he's fucking you good, so good that you don't feel embarrassed at how close you feel already.
"feels good?" jungkook hums and you can only whine in response. "fuck, your pussy is swallowing my cock, y/n, doesn't want me to leave." he groans and his thrusts are so hard that you're starting to see white dots. "you're so good, y/n."
"f-fuck... please, need... need to cum." you must sound pathetic right now but you can't bring yourself to care. "touch me, kook, make me cum."
his free hand is moving quickly, finding your clit again and rubbing fast circles that almost make you start crying.
"gonna cum, baby?" you feel his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers. the pet name makes you clench even harder around him. "wanna cum on my cock?" he sounds so gone too, you know he's close too. if you knew he was gonna fuck you this good you would've actually taken your time with him, but you let it pass for now because you're both needy and just need to get off.
"yeah." you unconsciously let out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard from yourself and jungkook start giving sloppy thrusts, you're both so close. "kook, i'm gonna cum." you manage to let out and right after your mouth can't even make sounds anymore.
"fuck, y/n."
you're so close. you're gonne cum. so fucking close.
but the door creaks open and you both freeze, not being able to contain your moans at the feeling of jungkook bottoming out once again.
"yoongi!" you scream at the boy standing by the door at the same time as jungkook screams 'hyung!'. you try your best to cover yourself by pulling your shirt down. jungkook's hand drops from your neck to rest on your waist.
"oh, don't stop." yoongi shrugs as if he's just caught you chopping vegetables.
"huh?" jungkook mutters behind you and you can feel it about to move away but you reach for his thigh with your hand to keep him there.
"kook, please." you don't know what got into you. you're so desperate to cum you don't even mind yoongi being there in front of you.
"see? she wants you to keep going." yoongi's voice is so calm as he slowly walks towards you, leaning back against the counter, just right next to where you both are.
you look down as your cheeks start burning and you clench around jungkook. why the hell are you getting turned on by being watched by your roommate while getting fucked by your other roommate?
"fuck, y/n." you know jungkook is hissing because you got impossibly tight around him and you can hear Yoongi's little chuckle. "you're just gonna stand there?" the younger asks his friend.
"i don't think she minds." yoongi replies and you can almost see the smug smile on his face even if you're staring at the counter.
"y/n?" jungkook mutters behind you but you don't answer. you're so close, so embarrassed and so turned on that you're scared your voice will come out in a pathetic whine.
"y/n," yoongi's deeper voice calls for you too but you don't reply either. "look at me, y/n," he speaks again and you bite your lip not to let out another moan because you're sure you're currently creaming jungkook's cock. "pull her hair so she looks at me, jungkook."
your breath hitches then the youngest does just as yoongi says and a moan finally escapes your throat as he tugs at your hair and brings your head up, turning it a little to the side so you can face the boy beside you. he's handling you as if you were a doll. and the second you lock eyes with yoongi you feel numb. his eyes are so dark, you've never really seen him looking at you like that. a little smirk grows on his face as he looks all over your face. you probably look a mess.
"do you want me to stay?" he asks with an unusual soft voice that makes your legs shake.
"hyung." jungkook says with a warning tone, his cock throbbing inside you. he needs to cum too.
"shut up," yoongi gives jungkook a quick look and turns to you again. "y/n?" the words don't even leave your mouth, you can't speak. "what? jungkookie was fucking you so good you can't even talk?" he speaks with a condescending tone, like he's sorry for you. you close your eyes as you clench around jungkook again.
"fuck, y/n." jungkook's free hand squeezes the flesh on your hip.
"keep fucking her, kook," yoongi finally says. "let's see if you can make her talk again."
jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he lets go of your hair and starts moving again without even questioning him. your head stays in place for yoongi to see you but your eyes are still closed. you must be going crazy because you don't think you've ever felt this good during sex and it is just a quick fuck in the kitchen with your roommate while your other roommate looks at you.
after a specific thrust that hits just where you need it you arch your back until your head falls on jungkook's shoulder, you throw one of your arms behind you so you can reach jungkook's hair and keep him close. your fingers tangle with the soft locks while he fucks you at a brutal pace.
"right there, kook..." you moan.
"like that?" he whines, fucking whines, against your ear as he keeps thrusting against that sweet spot inside you and you nod frantically. one of his hands stays on the counter right next to yours and the other sneaks under your shirt and finally cups over one of your boobs, a groan hits your ear.
"s-sensitive.." you warn him but he squeezes your boob anyway. you cry out. you're so close again, so fucking close.
"stop." yoongi says and jungkook halts his movements immediately as if he was under his spell.
"fuck, yoongi." you choke on a moan. when you open your eyes you can see yoongi looking down at where your bodies meet, then he looks at jungkook.
"jungkook," yoongi says and jungkook hums in response. "you got tested when i did, you're clean." he tells him and then he looks at you. "are you clean? and on the pill?"
"yeah," you nod. "yes to both." you suddenly feel shy again. they both sigh at your answer and you gulp, watching yoongi turning to jungkook with an arched eyebrow.
"then why are you wearing a condom?" yoongi asks. and he's not wrong. you usually didn't risk it, you always use to have protected sex, but now that you see it like this you wonder why you didn't ask jungkook if he was clean from the start.
"hyung... i don't know if she-" jungkook mutters like he's not sure but you can clearly feel his cock twitching inside you.
"do you want him to wear the condom?" yoongi asks you, his voice still calm and his look unbothered.
"y/n, you don't have t-"
"take it off." you cut Jungkook off and yoongi smiles. you feel so nice after seeing his reaction that you wonder if you're doing this just to make him feel proud. it feels good.
"pull out, kookie," yoongi says and walks towards him, you turn your head to look back at them. jungkook obeys quickly, your walls squeezing him like you want to keep him inside. "good," yours and jungkook's breaths hitch when yoongi himself takes the condom off of his cock and goes to throw it on the trash. "you leaked a lot, damn." he say through a breathy chuckle when he comes back and decides to stand right behind jungkook.
"hyung."
"she must feel good, right?" yoongi is suddenly resting his chin on his shoulder and looking down. your eyes follow yoongi's and then roll back when you see yoongi's hand wrapping around jungkook's cock and slowly stroking him to spread the precum on his tip all over his length.
"fuck, hyung." the boy moans and your pussy throbs.
god, this is so fucking hot you could cum if they kept that going for a little longer. but yoongi drops his sticky hand and looks at you tilting his head and lightly raising his eyebrows.
"open your mouth." he says and you don't question him, just open your mouth and welcome two of his fingers inside.
you moan around them as you suck and swallow jungkook's taste off them while yoongi stares at your lips, his tongue licking the corner of his lips.
"clean my hand." his fingers drop from your mouth and you stick your tongue out, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist while you run your tongue all over his palm and fingers, cleaning jungkook off of him.
they're both looking at you like they want to eat you up and you feel so powerful yet you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs by this point. yoongi drops his hand when you've cleaned it completely and then looks at jungkook.
"c'mon, kookie, fuck her now." he says really close to jungkook's ear and the younger obeys instantly, slipping inside you and groaning at the feeling. "good boy." yoongi chuckles as jungkook bottoms out.
"so good." you moan, already feeling the clear difference in having him inside with nothing in between. a whimper is forced out of your mouth when jungkook starts thrusting into you again.
"that feels good, right?" yoongi asks and moves to stand beside you again, to watch it all happen.
"mhm..." you moan. "please... jungkook- please."
"so pretty when you beg." yoongi puts his fingers under your chin to make you look at him. "such a pretty whore."
"oh my god!" your eyes roll back. you feel yourself just a second away from coming. "gonna cum... fuck..."
"yeah, i can fucking feel you." jungkook breathes out. "fuck." his thrusts become sloppy real fast. he's close too.
"jungkook..." you completely bend over the counter again because your arms can't support your weight anymore, your cheek gets smushed against the cold surface. "i'm- shit... i'm coming." you whimper.
"then cum." yoongi's voice is all you need to get there. a shocking wave of pleasure runs through your whole body while you clench hard around him.
"shit, so tight." jungkook mutters behind you and one of your weak arms reaches behind to grab at his thigh. "so close, y/n."
"please." your whole body is shaking with oversensitivity.
"want me to pull out?" jungkook asks.
"no... please," you beg. "come inside, baby." you cry out.
"c'mon jungkook, cum." yoongi says and that seems like enough for jungkook too, because you feel his throbbing cock releasing inside of you.
"fuck," jungkook mumbles. "y/n, come here." his hands are on your waist again.
"i can't." you let out a weak chuckle but jungkook is suddenly wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up.
"need to kiss you." he says and you immediately turn your head to find his lips. you kiss him slow, nothing like the kisses you shared before, and it feels good to kiss jungkook like that.
he's the one that breaks the kiss and when you try to chase his lips again he just chuckles and gives your hip a soft slap.
"kiss yoongi too." he whispers just at the same time as you feel a hand wrapping around your neck.
yoongi's lips are on yours as soon as you turn around. you hum through the kiss and bring one of your hands up to his cheek, tilting his head a little to deepen the kiss. he swallows your moan when jungkook's cock finally slips out of you and you feel his cum spilling out. yoongi breaks the kiss when jungkook mumbles something you can't really hear.
"shit..." you close your legs when you feel jungkook's cum spilling out and dripping down your thigh. "it's so messy."
"not for long," yoongi suddenly grabs you and brings you to the fridge, making you lean back against it as he drops to his knees in front of you. you stop breathing for a second. "i'm gonna clean you up."
"hyung," jungkook calls him as he puts on his sweatpants again. "you're gonna-"
"do you think this is my first time tasting cum?" yoongi throws him a quick glance and you swear you see jungkook blushing for a moment.
yoongi turns to you again and grabs one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder and diving in with no warning.
"yoongi, fuck!" you throw your head back as one of your hands goes to his hair. he hums against your pussy and laps at your entrance, from where jungkook's cum keeps spilling out.
"that's so fucking hot." jungkook sighs but you can't open your eyes to look at him, you keep them closed.
"yoongi, you're gonna- gonna make me cum again." you mumble, your only leg supporting you starting to shake but yoongi keeps you steady with one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh over his shoulder. and the warning that you're gonna cum only makes yoongi push you further to the edge, sucking on your clit and basically burying his face on your pussy like he's starving for you. "yoongi, oh my- fuck, oh my god!"
you don't know what to do with your hands anymore, one of them stays on his hair while the other ends on your mouth to try and stop the pathetic noises from coming out. though one hand is suddenly grabbing that arm and pulling it down.
it's yoongi. he detaches his mouth from you to say, "i wanna hear you." and suddenly slips two fingers inside you.
"sensitive..." you mumble, your legs shaking again and threatening to close even if yoongi's head is between them.
"gotta clean you well," yoongi says. "jungkookie had a big load for you, huh?" he chuckles again.
you've never heard something so hot in your entire life. jungkook must think the same because he groans somewhere in the kitchen, you don't see him because you're too busy holding yoongi's eye contact.
"you like me cleaning jungkookie off your pussy?" yoongi asks you and gives your clit another little lick as he fucks the cum out of you with his fingers. "dirty girl."
"please, yoongi."
"love hearing you say that." he smirks as he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue.
"hyung, jesus fucking christ." jungkook sighs while yoongi goes back to eating you out like he's wanted it for months.
"i'm gonna cum, yoongi- ah!" you throw your head back against the fridge again when yoongi sucks on your clit and starts fucking you with his fingers again. "oh, right there!" his fingers keep brushing against that sweet spot and you're sure you're gonna cum soon.
it doesn't take long for you to cum on his mouth and fingers, yoongi gives your pussy one last kiss before placing another one on your thigh still on his shoulder and finally puts it down.
"you're okay?" yoongi asks you as he stands up and cups your face with his hands to check on you.
"yeah," you nod. "just a little dizzy."
"i'm sure you're tired." he brushes his thumbs on your cheeks affectionately and your eyes close on their own. "i'll go prepare a bath for you, okay?" he says and kisses your forehead.
and holy fuck, you never thought that thing people said about feeling butterflies in your stomach was real but now you can feel them because as soon as yoongi pulls away, you feel another kiss on your cheek from jungkook.
"you were amazing." he tells you and you have half a mind to smile.
"wait," you turn to the door where yoongi is already making his way to the bathroom. "yoongi!" you call out for him and he quickly turns around.
"yeah?" he asks and your eyes go down to his crotch. he's hard. of course he is.
"do you... want help with that?" you ask shyly but he just waves a hand dismissively.
"don't worry about it, you're completely spent, you should rest now." yoongi replies sincerely but then looks to jungkook. "unless you're ready for another round." he cocks an eyebrow.
you look at jungkook and a giggle slips out of your mouth when you see him shocked, his cheeks tomato red. yoongi chuckles too.
"i'm just teasing you," the older says. "i'll go prepare a bath." and he leaves the kitchen.
then you're alone with jungkook again. you grab your clothes from the floor even if you're not really gonna put them on now.
"what was all of that about?" you dare to ask and you know jungkook understands what you mean but you still push further. "yoongi and you...?"
"it was nothing." he quickly replies. you're not dumb, he's getting defensive.
"okay..." you mutter. "calm down, i wasn't judging."
"i know," jungkook says and oh he looks troubled. "it was just nothing."
"okay," you nod and give him a reassuring smile because he looks more tense now than before. "just... if you've got some thoughts you need to let out... i'm here, or whatever..." you try not to make things real serious but you just don't want to see jungkook like this.
"i'm okay." he replies.
"mh, good." you end up putting just your shorts on again because it might be a little weird to have this conversation while being half naked.
"by the way, that was short but it was amazing." jungkook says out of nowhere and you giggle, slapping his arm.
"yeah, you were not bad either." you say and squeeze his bicep twice before walking out of the kitchen.
and when you're left alone in the corridor everything you just did hits you like a truck.
what the hell have you done?
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A/N: hope you enjoyed it !! i'm not 100% satisfied with this one, i know i could've done a lot better but yeah :) thank u for reading ! have a nice day <3
#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts reactions#bts fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#jungkook reaction#yoongi fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi imagine#yoongi reaction#jungkook x reader#yoongi x reader#suga fanfic#suga fic#suga imagine#suga reaction#bts smut#jungkook smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#gggukniverse#bangtan x reader#bangtan reactions#bangtan fic#bangtan fanfic#bangtan imagines
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"Why There Will Never Be a Peeb Adventures" otherwise known as "The Peeb Adventures Pre-Mortem"
Since 2020, I've made a good chunk of games. Hell, even though I've been doing this for 10 years to date, the majority of my progress as a creative began over the course of this 4 year period.
Out of all the games I've made - or otherwise had a hand in - there is only one that's apparently struck a chord so deeply with people that to this day I still get messages and comments asking when it will come out.
The title of this post already explains the whole deal so I'm not gonna be dramatic about it right here. As per usual, I will instead get heart-clutchingly dramatic about the subject by the end of this story.
I felt the idea of a "Pre-Mortem" might be a fun way to talk about games that will never be finished. Maybe I'll make more of these down the line for other old games, who knows.
"The Incredibly True Origins of Peeb Adventures" or "Wow! I Hate It!"
Peeb Adventures began as a gift game for my long-time friend Aaron. It was simple, mostly functioning as a fun little gag that stemmed from a 3D model I made of a character he doodled during a drawpile session. I gave Peeb a grapple hook just because I wanted to experiment with swinging mechanics and felt the gag gift was a great space to toy around in without having to actually ask myself how on earth I'd want to structure a game around a grappling hook. Foreshadowing!
Eventually, the gag gift did that classic thing all developers have experienced before where your game spirals out of control and grows into a hideous monster, and what started as a fairly abstract grappling toy convergently evolved into that dreaded state we call a "3D Mascot Platformer."
I made a very short demo in the summer of 2020. It went absolutely nowhere, and after an idol of mine caught wind and asked to play it (before sending about 3 paragraphs of feedback suggesting how to improve what was, in my view, a trainwreck of baby blocks stacked on top of eachother), I shelved the project.
"The Absolutely Tremendulous HPS1 Adventure of Peeb" or "My Friend Jam Suggested I Revive the Project and So I Did"
Shortly after Peeb was shelved for the first time, I joined a community of game developers called Haunted PS1. For those not in the know, HPS1 was essentially the nexus point for "retro horror games" in the indie sphere, and a lot of the resulting deluge (non-perjorative) on itch.io can find its roots in this community.
HPS1 was a good place. Lots of nice, talented people willing to tolerate the kind of mindless riffing I often do in voice calls, anyway. I made a decent chunk of friends there, some of which I'm still quite close to, even today.
HPS1 has this tradition called the HPS1 Demo Disc that began in 2020, and with the year coming to its end, there was talk of a new one set to arrive in spring 2021.
Unlike the first demodisc, however, 2021's disc required you to submit a game in-progress to a panel of judges. They'd then give their yay-or-nay, and you were either in or out.
One day, I was musing over the fact that I didn't really have anything to submit so I would likely have to sit out of 2021's disc. My friend, Jam, who you might know as the developer of the Heilwald Loophole (or Beton Brutal) suggested I consider reviving Peeb Adventures as my submission to the demo disc.
Why did I follow through on this? I don't know. It's funny to think a scenario this simple was the launch point for my career.
Over the next 6 months, I worked on turning the absolutely horrendous gag game into... Something still kinda trite but at least playable. I had some help from my longtime teammate drurylain, my longtime friend Aaron (the creator of Peeb's original design), and my longtime spiritual uncle Tim, and with our powers combined... A new kind of demo experience where you don't do anything of particular note besides swinging around was born.
Also quite important: the very same drawpile session that spawned Peeb also spawned Orbo, who would also make his own appearance in Peeb Adventures as a recurring side character (since I felt like Peeb needed a friend).
"Go! Incredible Friendship Unites in the Gameosphere! Peeb and Orbo are Born!" or "Peeb Adventures: Coming Never"
So the demo for Peeb Adventures was finished early March 2021, and the demo disc went live on itch.io on the 25th of the month.
The demo disc then proceeded to do a backflip and pick up a LOT of traction online. Which then meant Peeb itself was catching little bits of the traction in its mouth and smacking its lips.
I went from "guy who makes games for nobody" to "guy who makes games for that one very specific brand of teen on twitter who loves the object head show", and I was riding high.
Fanart poured in. People showed a lot of love. I was dazzled by it all, really.
Despite the love for the game and the potential on hand, progress was stagnant. My group of friends and I all got together in a google doc and wrote an entire planning bible for the game. Game mechanics, story beats, twists and turns, the whole thing. Despite having the structure lined up, I had other ambitions and began working on a multiplayer deathmatch game that quickly overtook my work schedule.
Peeb sat on the backburner, but at the time I still wanted to finish it one day. My main excuse was "well, I just need more money! If I'm going to work on this game it's gonna need more than one fulltime person and I can't just ask people to work for free!" That excuse worked on me for a while.
"I Don't Think I Want to Play With You Anymore Peeb!" or "There's Such a Thing as Too Much Love"
A while had passed at this point. My ambitions hadn't just grown, they'd completely shifted. Before long, I found myself working on yet another demo for the 2022 HPS1 Demo Disc, "The Spectral Mall."
Nowhere, MI wasn't just some random toy for me, but the culmination of all my love into one game. Despite its silly demeanor, the game was a product of a lot of pain, and even now I still desperately want to finish it. Except I have to make money to live, so... Oops!
Anyhow, there was a shift in demeanor for me during 2022. You have Peeb, a game that I made on a whim as kind of a joke with friends, and you have Nowhere, MI, a game that meant the world to me during really dark times.
And you know what? There were a lot of people that wanted Peeb. People that never stopped asking me about it.
I realized while working on Nowhere that I didn't really know what I would even do if I ever had the chance to work on the full Peeb Adventures. Not only did I find the nagging kind of annoying, Peeb was also something I couldn't really... Wrap my head around?
It occurred to me that Peeb wasn't really "my" game anymore, it was "his" game. The old Johnny.
I'd changed a lot since the game had come out in early 2021. In a year and a half my world got flipped upside down, and... I don't know, Nowhere was way more reflective of who I was now. Sure the humor was still pretty asinine, but there was a shift. It was hard to picture the "Peeb Adventures" people were actually looking forward to when my own sensibilities had drifted so far.
When the Nowhere demo came out along with Spectral Mall, it did... Alright? People liked it, but it wasn't the same as Peeb's release. Hell, even in Nowhere's release there were people pushing it aside to ask the same question they'd been asking every week leading up to it. "When is Peeb Adventures coming out?"
"Goodbye Peeb!"
It was increasingly harder and harder to not look back at Peeb and kind of hate it. It was rough in every respect, and yet it whenever I met people who'd heard of me online, they always cited Peeb Adventures.
Strangers continue to ask me when it's coming out. On rare occasion I'll get someone asking about Nowhere and I'll feel a bit excited anyone else cares about that game besides me and maybe my friends, but most of the time people just ask about Peeb.
To finally answer this question I've been asked for nearly 4 years: There will probably never be a Peeb Adventures.
"Goodbye Johnny."
I like to believe one of the reasons people are attracted to my body of work is because I make games to reach out to other people. That's probably not the real reason, but it's nice to play pretend and imagine your work has more significance than just "ha ha boner."
I put a lot of myself in my games and I rarely hold back, even if an idea is insanely stupid or strange. The result usually becomes something more like a scrapbook than a game.
It's hard to try and expand on a game like Peeb when the Johnny who made it isn't really with us anymore. If I worked on Peeb now, you'd get some kind of irregular frankenstein that'd never be as exciting as the original vision was.
By the time I get around to Nowhere again, am I still going to be this Johnny? Or will the next Johnny look back at Nowhere the same way I look at Peeb now? Who knows.
Anyway, look forward to more games from me and my friends. Even if it's not Peeb Adventures, it'll still be us.
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♡ Housewarming (1) ♡
♡ Pairing: fiance!yeosang x chubby!fem!reader, best friend!hongjoong, best friend!seonghwa, best friend!wooyoung
♡ Genre: smut/angst
♡ Summary: A quiet afternoon tending to your garden gets complicated when your fiance's best friends stop by for an unexpected visit. Noticing his friends have become a bit too distracted by the dress that you're wearing, Yeosang finds himself getting jealous and has to remind you exactly who you belong to.
♡ Word Count: 1.5k
♡ Warnings: dom Yeosang vibes, hair pulling, leg riding, roughness, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, admiratioin for your plus sized body, the other members are into reader & she's oblivious, voyeurism, & I think that's all
♡ A/N: I wrote this for all of my sweet baby darlings who are Yeosang biased because I never see any Yeosang smut really and, like, I wanna do my part to add to the spicy Yeo library. Also, as my title implies, there's gonna be a part two where there shall be cockwarming and banging, more possessiveness, in front of his friends. Ya know, fun stuff.
♡ Part Two Here
Kang Yeosang isn’t a jealous man but you can’t blame him for being a little territorial when his friends are over and you’re walking around dressed the way that you are. In your defense, you had no idea they would even be here. Your official housewarming party isn’t for another week but the boys decided to surprise their best friend by flying in sooner.
You were in the backyard tending to your new flower garden when you heard the doorbell ring. It being the hottest day of the summer so far, you’d simply thrown on your comfiest sundress this morning—no bra, no panties because you are at home afterall—and gone on about your day not thinking much of it.
You’d forgotten what you had on altogether by the time you found yourself hurrying into the house to make drinks and whip up some snacks for them while they settled in. As far as you were concerned, the guys treated you the same as they always did.
Wooyoung gossiped with you about all of the dating drama that you missed out on, making double sure to spill every detail. Seonghwa talked to you about the song you suggested to him a few weeks back that you know he lowkey hated but pretends to like anyway. Hongjoong asked you questions about who’d be decorating the house, not so subtly hinting that you’re in desperate need of his assistance.
It all felt so normal that you hadn’t noticed their gazes drifting to your plunging neckline each time you leaned over to pass them a plate. Without a bra your plush breasts sit beautifully on your chest in their natural state, bouncing as they wish at even the slightest of movements.
“Sweetie, you were working on your flowers weren’t you? Shouldn’t you get back?” Yeosang asked, noticing Hongjoong’s eyes lingering on your cleavage a second too long.
You were too busy laughing with Woo to notice your fiance’s attempt at getting rid of you. “Yeo, baby, it’s fine. The flowers can wait” you reassured him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before jumping right back in with Woo.
Hongjoong immediately pulled Yeosang into another conversation, redirecting his attention long enough for him to question if he was overreacting after all. But now, as they watch you clear the table, struggling to redirect their thoughts as the bottom of your dress rises more with every trip you make to the kitchen, Yeosang knows for a fact he isn’t crazy.
On your final trip back, the pleated fabric inches high enough to reveal soft thighs that kiss each other with every step. Any higher and they’ll catch a glimpse of that cute ass you’ve been sitting on all day but Yeosang’s behind you before they get the pleasure.
Humming a song to yourself, the same one you suggested to Seonghwa, you make your way back towards the kitchen, plates in hand. You’re completely oblivious to Yeosang trailing behind you until you find yourself being swung around, wedged between your fiance and the closet door.
“Oh my god, you scared me!” you giggle, resting your hand on his chest as you catch your breath. Even through his shirt his chest muscles are well defined, smooth as marble yet soft enough to cuddle up to all day. His face is usually the same, delicate and strong, handsome and beautiful, but the only thing he looks to be now is irritated.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” he asks, tugging your dress down to cover your thighs. Caught off guard by his roughness, you nearly drop the plates, “Doing what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His hands glide up your body, palms smoothing over the fullness of your curves.
All of the blood in his body rushes to his cock, causing him to temporarily forget what he was even mad at. Your body doesn’t just look good, it feels good, and, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been watching you as much as his friends have.
“Walking around the house dressed like this” he says, pinning you harder to the wall, “Do you want them to look at you? You want the attention? Is that it?”
“Yeosang, you can’t be…” you begin to say but stop when his tense expression doesn’t break. No need to question if he's seriously upset, it's written all over him. Fair enough. You should’ve been more self aware but to accuse you of doing it on purpose? That’s insanity. And so you decide, since he gets to say whatever he wants, you do too.
“You know what? Maybe I did do it on purpose just to make you jealous” you whisper, flashing him your sweetest smile, “Did it work? Are you jealous, baby?”
Yeosang’s jaw clenches, his hands forming into fists around the cotton of your dress. He’s radiating an anger you’ve never seen in him before. An anger intense enough to paralyze you in his presence. But you aren’t frightened by him. Feeling his knee slide between your legs, his bulge hard against your thigh, your heart begins to thump loud enough that it’s all you can hear.
Yeosang raises his knee up high enough to meet your core and you shiver at the contact. “It worked. I’m very very jealous” he admits, teasing your lips with his, “I’m jealous a lot more often than you think but I mean, look at you.” Controlling his strength, he presses you down onto his knee, rocking your pussy back and forth along his thigh.
Your body’s immediately overtaken by how amazing the friction feels, your juices swiftly moistening his pants enough that you glide over them with ease. His lips finally meet yours, his tongue slipping inside as you let out low, sweet moans only he can hear. He changes the angle, tilting you forward so that your breasts spill ever so slightly out of your shirt and the sensitive tip of your clit is exposed to him that much more.
“Yeosang, please, I can’t…I can’t hold these much longer” you whine, the trembling of your body causing the plates to clink around in your hand.
“Aww but you look so fucking pretty like this” he pouts, building up speed, the straining of his cock against his zipper driving him mad. It takes every bit of restraint he has not to bend you over and fuck you in this hallway—just the thought of feeling you clench around him has arousal dripping from his cock—but he has something else planned for you.
There’s a tingling behind your belly, a pressure too perfect to be deprived of. Yeosang doesn’t need to guide you anymore. You’re mindlessly riding his leg, lids growing heavier the closer you get to that moment of pure euphoria. Your hips stutter and your head falls forward into his chest, one hand holding onto his biceps for dear life.
“Is my baby ready to come? Gonna come on my leg with my friends right there? Hmm?” he coos, grabbing you by the hair and pulling your head back to see your face. Your eyes are glossy, lips parted gasping for air, stiffened nipples falling out of your dress. He kisses under your chin, licking his way back up to your lips to feel your breath meet his.
You’re so close, your muscles like a rubber band being stretched tighter and tighter. You can’t speak, only whimper—moan—whine in desperation. “Look at me” he commands, softly at first. When you don’t, your mind too far gone to even process basic thought, he pulls your hair harder. “I said look at me” he repeats, the deepness of his voice rocking you to your core.
You lock eyes with him and everything falls apart. The dishes crash to the floor, both of your hands cling to his arms, and you’re coming all over his leg. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, glowing with pride at what he’s done to you.
“Y-you, Yeosang” you struggle to get out between moans.
“Fuck, that sounds so good. Say it again.”
“You! I belong to you!”
Yeosang loosens his grip on your hair, allowing your body to relax a bit. Fixing your dress for you, he kisses you passionately, “Good girl. I never want you to forget that.” He steps away from you just in time for the appearance of his friends at the end of the hall. He drops to his knees, gathering the dishes as if nothing ever happened.
“Hey, uh, is everything good down there?” Seonghwa asks, eyeing you both suspiciously. You refuse to answer, you couldn’t if you wanted to, but still do your best to keep yourself upright. Yeosang hands you the plates, smiling innocently at his friends, “No worries. Everything’s fine.”
Wooyoung stirs a straw around in his drink, contemplating if he believes him or not. He doesn’t. “I feel like that’s not true” Woo says but there’s no time to investigate. You scurry off towards the kitchen, still reeling from your orgasm, before anyone can notice the state of you.
"Baby, when you’re done can you come into the living room?” Yeosang calls out to you politely, “I wanna…show you something.”
#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez smut#yeosang x reader#yeosang x you#yeosang smut#ateez angst#yeosang angst#chubby reader#plus size reader#ateez x chubby reader#ateez x female reader
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I know I already said this in the comments but I would like to officially request a spinoff oneshot (hc works too) of that pregnant reader post where Lucifer is just trying to talk to his unborn Godchild and then Alastor comes in and is like "fuck off"
If you got other stuffs going on feel free to ignore this, just shooting my shot
Welp-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: None I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
Your pregnancy wouldn't be possible without Lucifer. Sure, you and Alastor had to do a lot of the work, but Lucifer... made it happen
So you were grateful to him and tried your best to show it, though Alastor was much less kind
Lucifer was also an experienced parent so you would come to him for advice sometimes
Which Alastor always hated, but he never stopped you
When he wasn't fighting with Alastor, then he was genuinely nice to be around, though you know Alastor did start it
When Lucifer names himself the godfather of your child, you don't see any reason to deny him that title
Alastor does though-
"All I'm saying is, we could pick someone better to be the godfather-"
"Alastor! We wouldn't have this chance without him!"
"Uh, you two know I can hear you, right?"
Regardless, you like the guy and don't mind when he starts talking to your baby bump
"Hewwo, widdle baby! Aren't you gonna be a big one~ Yes, you are~"
It is rather big for how far along you are...
You can't help but laugh and be amused at Lucifer's childish antics as he talks to your unborn child
You do gasp in surprise when your baby suddenly kicks at the sound of his voice, apparently taking a liking to the king of hell
Which of course makes Lucifer want to feel the baby kick and who are you to tell him no? Especially when he's giving you those puppy eyes
"Aren't you a strong one~? You gotta be gentle or you'll hurt your mama~"
His words DO NOT help and the kicks only get stronger, almost in warning of something-
Of course, that's when Alastor walks in, and you can practically see the vicious thoughts swirling in his head
He tuts as he comes around to rest by your side, giving your forehead a quick kiss before glaring down at Lucifer
"And just what is going on in here, my dear?"
You've got to calm your husband before he does anything crazy-
"Lucifer was talking to the baby when they suddenly started kicking, so he's trying to calm them down.."
Lucifer is still just cooing and feeling the bump, completely oblivious to the conversation around him
"Ah, I see..."
Lucifer doesn't see the piano that drops on him, Alastor suddenly standing in his place and rubbing your baby bump
"There there~ Papa is here to save you from that little nuisance~"
He starts singing a little song to the baby too, gazing at you with warm eyes as he rests his cheek on you
You'd be upset with him if him rubbing your stomach wasn't so damn soothing...actually managing to calm the baby..
You could almost fall asleep like this...
What were you so worried about again?
"YOU TACKY PIECE OF SHIT!"
...and this is where you take your leave, waddling out of the room to go find some snacks
For you 🤌
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So I recently re-listened to the Still Watching by Vanity Fair podcast episode titled Bridgerton Season 3 Part 2: Three’s Company that Luke Newton was interviewed on (highly recommend people check it out if they haven’t his interview is so good!) and I am just blown away by how fucking kind and sensitive Luke is. Like of course he’s human and flawed as no one’s perfect but like in that interview he’s constantly complimenting not only Nicola but also Jonathan Bailey and Simone for how graciously they led the show in season 2 and he admired them and the previous leads as well. And how thoughtful he is in his portrayal of Colin and how he loves the character for his kindness and sensitivity. He also touches on masculinity and how Colin had a twisted idea of what being a man is because of his Dad’s death and how Anthony dealt with running the household and how this season was his journey with his relationship with Penelope and how she helps him unlearn that and accepting he is enough and how he is is strength not a weakness. And he compliments Jess as Cressida and Claudia and he’s so sweet and you just can really tell he really does respect women like Nicola says. He talks a lot about intimacy scenes and consent and tenderness being so so sexy. And I just I can really feel Nicolas assessment of him being just a really good dude who respects women and is so kind. He literally talks about the privilege to act alongside Nicola. All that to say I really do think all the SM hate he hit was so unfair and I absolutely understand why Nicola ran to defend him. It also highlights how ridiculous the narrative of them beefing on social media is. Like obviously all people have fights regardless of friendship or romance but these two have such respect and admiration for one another they def aren’t gonna shade each other on social media for the world to scrutinize. Even their tension in Italy you still saw later that day in the photoshoots how happy and giggly they still were with one another so they clearly got past or worked through it together. Also in the interview he talked AGAIN about how much he enjoys playing in love Colin and how he really looks forward to Season 4 to be able to have that vibe and be even more rom com with Nicola. I just hope he does know that’s it not the majority of the fans and he deserves good things.
We stan Luke Newton around here.
If you don’t………idk why you’re here lol
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CONVERSATIONS WITH CAPTAIN LEVI
– sfw
– summary: the banter between you two can either be the death of him or what keeps him alive (:
Breakfast with the squad was livelier than normal, mainly because you were the one who cooked.
“You’re spoiling them.” “They deserve it. Our little ones need all the nutrients they can get.” “They’re not our children.” “I never said that, Captain.”
While scouting out for titans, Levi kept a close eye on you. You had been reckless the past couple of missions - and it got him questioning whether he cares about you or if he’s pissed.
“Be on guard.” “I know, Captain.” “You’re wandering away again. Come back before you get killed.”
When Hange admitted she was new to torturing people, you smirked and gave her and Levi a confident look.
“You’ve tortured someone before?” “Yup.” “You gonna kill this guy?” “Probably?”
Close proximity with you was one of Levi’s unspoken hates, so when you two were trapped in a cave, he couldn’t help but clench his jaw with disgust.
“You okay, Captain?” “Yes.” “Your face is red.” “It’s hot in here.”
Before you went in your tent, Levi stopped you and handed you his blanket.
“You’re cold.” “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. That’s your blanket anyway.” “You need this.” “No, you need it to stay warm.” “Don’t blame me if you’re shivering in your tent.”
Levi never acknowledged his voice kink to anyone and was in denial when you said his full title in a tone that riled him up.
“Captain Levi.” “What.” “Captain Levi Ackermann.” “…yes?”
Levi beat a guy to a bloody pulp when he tried to kill him. You didn’t dare interrupt the session but instead cheered him on.
He doesn’t reply back because he was also busy thinking of ways to beat you up (with words) because you broke your arm after getting into a fight with Erwin.
“Yeah, you get that motherfucker, Captain!”
After you told the scouts about this treasure called the “One Piece”, Levi couldn’t help but talk to you about it.
“You’ve seen this…One Piece?” “No, but I know that the captain who is looking for it will.” “Who is this…captain you speak of?” “The future King of the Pirates!”
Levi was having a hard day - nothing was going the way he planned.
“Wanna talk about it?” “No.” “You sure, Captain Levi Ackermann?” “Stop calling me that.”
#aot imagines#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan imagines#aot x reader#aot x you#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#levi x you#x reader#x you#my fave so far#on queue
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Our Song and Dance¹
Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: super-duper-duper long, exploitation of minors, forced prostitution, unrequited love, complicated relationships, violence, death, mental health issues, canadian spelling lol, and i make up some names (lmk if i missed smth) Words: 19.7K
Masterlist | Part 2
a/n: i alr have this finished, but it was way too long to post in one part (as you can see) so i split it up into three parts. this one goes from pre-hunger games to right before the quell. had this idea in my head as soon as i finished thg, so i hope u enjoy!
Y/N Y/L/N, victor of the 67th Hunger Games. You were from district 4, one of the youngest victors that not only your district has ever had, but also all of Panem. Of course, you weren’t the youngest; that title belonged to none other than Finnick Odair.
A man you hated with a passion and, frankly, a man who didn’t like you very much either.
You could still remember the night you met.
Snow was droning on and on, giving a speech about something you couldn’t care less about. It was all lies, anyway, and you were only gonna end up in some rich man’s bed tonight, so you’d prefer to go through that interaction as drunk as you could be. With that thought, you downed the rest of your flute.
“Ah, careful, Princess.” Before you even saw the person, you knew it was him. His voice was so easily recognizable, even though you had never met, not even after living in the same district, then the Victors’ Village, or even at these little Capitol parties.
Finnick.
You turned, a faux smile on your face that he fully reciprocated. “Snow wouldn’t want the Capitol’s pride and joy to be under the influence,” he said, teasing but with an undertone that put you off.
You didn’t give a damn what Snow thought, but you weren’t gonna say that, especially not in his own home. Instead, you gave him the smile you gave the rest of Panem and directed the topic of conversation away from the President. “I won my Games, Finnick. Trust me, I’m not a lightweight.” Oh, but you wish you were. You wish you could get so drunk that you’d forget who you were entirely.
A part of you felt bad: twenty-three other people died while you walked out of the arena, and yet you wanted nothing more than for your life to end. A part of you wondered if the great Finnick Odair ever felt this way, either, but it wouldn’t be good small talk to ask.
Finnick’s grin only widened. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”
Your eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. “Likewise.”
He started to walk away, but he suddenly paused like he forgot something, leaning closer to you. Your breath got caught in your throat when you felt his on your neck. Your eyes locked, and all of a sudden, you wondered how it was possible that you never noticed how beautiful his eyes were.
“May the odds be ever in your favour, darling,” he whispered, and then he walked away without giving you another glance.
That night, Finnick didn’t leave your mind. It wasn’t until there was a resident of the Capitol lying on top of you that you stopped thinking about him. When you were in that position, you stopped thinking about everything, really.
When you walked out of your hotel room, done with your little job, Finnick was brought back to the forefront of your mind as your eyes met his. He looked like he was in the same state as you, also having been leaving a room. He looked surprised to see you.
You stared at him for a moment, but then you let yourself disappear down the hallway before he could say anything.
You knew what that meant; you knew it wasn’t his own room that he was leaving. When you got to your own room, you realized you were much more alike than you thought. You supposed that you couldn’t be surprised; Finnick was desirable, so of course Snow would put him up for sale.
You were in the exact same boat.
Since that night, you saw him in a different light.
You two didn’t talk when you got back home, no, but at your next Capitol event, you decided that you’d refuse to leave him alone, to leave someone who was going through the same thing as you to their own devices. That’s what you told yourself, but deep down, you just didn’t want to suffer in silence, either.
So you went and found him after a night with another Capitol pig. Standing outside, hands in his pockets, he looked so calm, but you saw a storm brewing in his eyes that only few could ever decipher.
You went and stood next to him, even though it was freezing cold out. He glanced over at you, and then his face became surprised, not surprise at you being there, but at you being there with him. Neither of you said anything; it was either that you were too afraid of a jabberjay overhearing or of yourselves. You just stood there in a comfortable silence.
You’d learn that, with Finnick, sometimes doing nothing could mean everything.
The two of you went on to do this every time you were there until, slowly, you graduated from just silence to holding each other. Oh, Finnick Odair was a cocky asshole, but when you were in the Capitol, he wasn’t him and you weren’t you. You were just two people that needed comfort, and that was enough.
You still didn’t talk, though, and when you were at home, you didn’t communicate at all. That was why you were surprised when you answered your door to see him standing on the other side.
Finnick went back to being Finnick, striding into your home without so much as an invitation. This caused you to roll your eyes, but they suddenly widened at his words. “Caesar Flickerman is on TV, saying that we’re dating.”
If you were drinking something, you would’ve spit it out. “What?” An incredulous look was painted onto your face.
Finnick, on the other hand, was a little more stoic, not exactly the charmer he was on television or in Capitol balls, but you could easily guess why—and if you hadn’t, then he was gonna tell you, anyways. “You know what this means.” He looked you in the eye, jaw clenched. “Two of Snow’s best—the Prince and Princess of Panem—dating? It’s the last thing he wants.”
“Finnick-”
“No, he won’t be able to sell us if we’re together, and if he can’t sell us, then he’ll start killing the people we love.” This was the first time either of you were even acknowledging the situation you were in.
You felt stung for some reason, even though you didn’t love Finnick—and he didn’t love you. But, deep down, no matter how much you tried to repress it, you knew there was something between you, so hearing him speak to you this way, like you were just nothing, hurt.
However, you got over your feelings quickly, the same way you always had. You moved your thoughts away from your heart and started thinking with your head. You were quiet for a second until you let out a soft gasp, like a light bulb went off in your head.
This time, you made eye contact with Finnick effortlessly. “What if this is exactly what we need?” You asked, a glint in your eye that he hadn’t seen before.
The blond scoffed. “I don’t see how our families dying is exactly what we need, Y/N.”
“No- no, Finnick, you already said it.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. “The Capitol- hell, everyone already thinks we’re the Prince and Princess of Panem. If we give them what they want, then- then we’d be unstoppable.” You paused to let him weigh in, but he only stared heavily at you, not a trace of what he was thinking on display, so you continued, “Snow and all of those Capitol motherfuckers will eat this shit up, Finnick. And then we’ll be free.”
You were trying not to show any emotion, either, but you couldn’t help it. At the mere thought of freedom, something you never thought was possible, you felt so many different things at once. While you were holding your feelings on your sleeve, Finnick was less easy to read.
But, in seconds, you knew exactly how he felt.
“We will never be free, Y/N.”
He walked out after that, leaving you alone in your living room. He’d never know it, but you stayed in that same spot for three hours, staring at where he once stood. His words had awakened something in you, the part of yourself that’d been thrown into the Hunger Games at only fifteen-years-old.
At the time, you thought you were going to die. You were hopeless, but after you won, you realized there was hope after all. You could still make it. Even as Snow allowed your body to be violated, your mind to deteriorate, you still had hope. But Finnick’s words brought back that frightened little girl in you that you thought died.
You’d later realize just how lucky you were that he buried her again. He came back and told you that he’d do it, and as easily as he brought that little girl back to life, he drowned her.
It wasn’t easy at first, pretending to be in love. You didn’t know the first thing about it, but Finnick helped you as if he’d been doing it all his life.
“C’mon, Y/N, it’s gonna be fine-”
“No, it’s not gonna be fine. Caesar’s gonna call us out immediately- and if he doesn’t, then Snow will-”
“Y/N.” Finnick cut off your nervous ramblings with a stern calling of your name. Even him saying your name was still weird to you. You weren’t used to so much conversation with the victor, but now you were gonna have to pretend to love him. “We’re gonna be fine.”
You weren’t convinced, and he saw that with the twitching of your fingers. You knew Finnick was a great actor, and normally you were, too, but this situation was unlike any other that you’d ever been in. It was foreign territory for you.
“Look,” he grabbed onto your hand, “whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your heart skipped a beat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say you felt a spark when his skin met yours.
For a second, you pretended that you weren’t pretending. You pretended that you were holding hands because you were two kids in love, not because you had to survive. You pretended you were never in The Games, that you never killed so ruthlessly just to live without truly living. You pretended that you weren’t you, and Finnick wasn’t Finnick, and you were holding hands just because, not because you were about to go on TV and lie.
But that second ended far too quickly as you pulled your hand out of his grasp, nodding. “Okay,” you took a deep breath, repeating his words to yourself, “we’re gonna be okay.”
“Of course, we are. Now tell me again how we met.”
When the time came for the actual interview, you never let Finnick’s hand go.
The experience became more familiar to you as you went on. It was the same as any other show you’d put on for the Capitol. When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller.
Now, you told stories of a life of yours that’d never existed.
Finnick and you were thrusted into the public eye, reciting the same stories day after day. It almost felt like it was actually real, and sometimes, you wished it was.
He’d look at you with a look of love in his eyes in front of all of the cameras, touching you tenderly. Oh, he was a wonderful liar. He even made you believe it for a second, too. But you knew that no such thing would ever happen.
Finnick Odair would never fall for a girl like you. Even if you were slowly falling for him.
During nights alone, you’d marvel at the turn of events. Finnick was once a man that you hated, but now look at you. You didn’t even know if you were faking it anymore. But it is fake, you’d remind yourself. He doesn’t love you, and you won’t love him.
You weren’t gonna let yourself love him. Truth be told, you were never gonna let yourself love anybody in the first place. Loving someone only made a new liability, a new weakness for the Capitol to exploit, but you could not love Finnick.
You’d been through a lot; your heart had taken many blows and survived, but you knew loving Finnick would only one day break it into a million little pieces. Still, it’s not like he made it easy.
You were lying in your bed- your shared bed with Finnick. Since announcing that you were dating, you moved in with him. You both decided it’d be easier to hide it all that way, easier for the public to believe, too. Sharing a bed was his idea—“just in case,” he’d said.
You wanted to object, but what would you even tell him? That you were afraid of falling in love with him? You would never even put the mere idea into his head. So you went along with it.
It was funny, though: you never went to bed alone, but that’s still how it felt. Being next to him, under the covers… it didn’t make you as warm as you hoped it would.
He didn’t live with anyone else. From what you gathered, Mags, your shared mentor, was his only family. His parents died of sickness early on; Mags took him in and kept him alive, all the way up until he was sent to The Games. Finnick didn’t get sappy with you often, but you knew that he couldn’t lose her.
What he was doing for Snow, he was doing for Mags. You thought Mags was the only person he cared about, but you learned that this wasn’t true. There was one other person who he was close to, who he’d do anything to keep safe. That person was Annie Cresta.
You met her once. She was beautiful and sweet, so you understood immediately why Finnick was in love with her. He never talked to you about her, but you could tell just from how he looked at her that she was the light of his life, even if she herself wasn’t aware of that.
Annie was good, the perfect girl for Finnick. She didn’t come with all the baggage you had, she wasn’t as rude, and she always knew what to say. You would’ve wanted them together, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Finnick was becoming your Annie. He was becoming your person, and so it killed you to know that not only was he in love with another girl, but he was also unhappy.
He’d never be happy with you. While you wished you could spare him the torment and just let him be with her, you had people you cared about, too, and he was now also on that list. So your job was to keep you all alive, not happy.
The door to your bedroom opened, interrupting your train of thought. You faced away from the entrance, but you knew it was Finnick. He had perfected soundless footsteps, even though you weren’t in an arena anymore. But you supposed you were still fighting for your lives, anyway.
He climbed into bed, letting out a big exhale when his back hit the mattress. You didn’t greet him, nor did he greet you, even though he knew you were awake. You’d gone through this whole song and dance already. You had to pretend in front of the cameras; you weren’t gonna do that in here, too.
The two of you were silent. This wasn’t a silence like before when you stood together in the Capitol after those horrible nights. This was a silence that was suffocating.
Things were never the same after you decided to go through with this charade. Maybe you were almost friends before, but now you were allies at most, just there to help the other survive. Oh, you wished you could be friends, but life was never so kind.
As if he could hear you begging for companionship, he whispered, “Y/N?”
Your breath hitched. “Yes?”
There was a beat of silence before his response. You wondered what his face looked like, but you wouldn’t dare turn around. “Can we- can we just be together tonight?”
Out of all the things he could’ve said, that didn’t even make your list. You sharply inhaled. Finnick didn’t sound like Finnick at all. He sounded small, and vulnerable, and scared, all states that he’d never let you see him in. But he was.
“What do you mean?” You didn’t turn around. “We are together.”
So unlike Finnick, he stammered, “No, I mean- can I- I want to hold you.”
If this were the dance you compared it to in your head, then you’d be stumbling over your own feet. He’d never asked about anything like that before. In fact, Finnick never even seemed to like you or this predicament much. Sure, you interested him, and maybe you were friends, but you knew that if he could’ve pick anyone else to dance this dance with, he would’ve.
You wondered what brought him to this point. Maybe it had something to do with Annie, but at that moment, you couldn’t bother thinking about it. He’d never know it, but you could never say no to him.
So you turned around and let him wrap his arm around you. But little did he know, you obliged not just to comfort him, but also yourself.
You’d fall asleep in Finnick’s arms every night after that.
You’d always been so independent, so alone, that you forgot what it felt like to lean on someone, even if it was just for a little while in the dead of night. But when Finnick held you, sleep came easier and nightmares came less.
He had no idea that he became your knight in shining armour; he never meant to, but he did. Soon after you started “dating,” Snow left you alone. You still attended Capitol parties, still mentored kids every year, but you no longer found yourself in bed with members of Snow’s cabinet, and neither did Finnick.
It was easier once it stopped, but you still had to grapple with the pain of what had already happened to you; all of this didn’t even take into account The Games. Sure, you were done, but you still had to come back once a year and prepare a kid to kill or be killed. Nothing dredged up old memories like that did.
Doing it with him was what got you through it. When you lost a kid, Finnick was there to hold you and reassure you and himself that it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have done much more to stop it. At times like those especially, you had to reel yourself in and remind yourself that, yes, he cared for you, but he wasn’t in love with you.
There were times that every bone in your body told you the exact opposite, that Finnick’s actions told you the exact opposite. Sometimes, he’d kiss you for the cameras and made you fall for it, too.
God, you were a team, such a great team. Would it be so horrible of you to assume you could be more?
You’d later realize that, yes, it was.
Because at the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, Annie Cresta’s name was called and your little fantasy of a relationship with Finnick was shattered to pieces.
His usually calm demeanour was broken as he ran toward her as soon as you both got on the train, engulfing her in a hug and soothing her while she sobbed. You just watched from the sidelines, a frown on your face. You wished you were frowning because your dear friend Annie was just chosen to be in a fight to the death, but you were frowning because Finnick had never hugged you like that.
There were no cameras here; this wasn’t for show. He never looked at you like that when there weren’t any cameras around.
You felt like you were intruding on a private moment, even though you were just standing there, even though you were supposed to be his girlfriend, not Annie. A girlfriend would’ve probably cleared her throat, interrupted the interaction, but you couldn’t find the courage to do that.
Instead, you waited for the moment to end and walked over to her yourself when Finnick stepped away, giving her a tight hug as if she hadn’t just brought you to the brink of tears. But that didn’t matter. Annie could possibly die, so your little feelings for Finnick were pretty insignificant at the moment.
You tossed those very feelings to the side, directing all your attention to preparing your tribute. Finnick was trying to explain everything, but he was too worried, so you took over for him, pushing forth all your efforts while he focused on the boy that’d been reaped from your district.
You always tried your best with the tributes, always, but this wasn’t just any tribute. This was Annie Cresta, your friend and the love of Finnick’s life. You needed her to make it out of this alive—Finnick wouldn’t survive without her.
You gave her every piece of advice you could think of during that trip, digging through your memory for things you might’ve even forgotten. You wished you could help the boy in the same way, but there could only be one victor in these Games, and it had to be her.
Remember that these are games, Annie. Don’t worry about the killing once you’re in the arena; you need to treat it like a game, like the other tributes are just pieces that need to be knocked off the board, you told her. You hated every word that came out of your mouth, but she needed to hear it. She needed to overcome the shock now so she didn’t get choked up during the actual Games like you did.
When the time finally came for you to send the tributes off into the arena, you hugged yourself, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. You imagined that it was Finnick’s arms that were around you, but you weren’t gonna ask him to comfort you. He was the one that needed comforting, but you knew he wouldn’t accept it, so you didn’t offer.
Instead, you worked your ass off to get Annie sponsors, to get people to like her as if they didn’t already. You didn’t sleep for days, and neither did Finnick until he accidentally fell asleep for a few hours one day.
You both watched as she took the tips you’d given her, using them in her own way. She was small, but she was smart and she picked up on how to play the game quickly.
Only when the last tribute was dead did a sigh of relief finally leave you. Your shoulders slumped as you sat in front of the TV. Finnick’s muttering fell upon deaf ears as static filled your brain. She made it, you thought. She’s okay.
But that didn’t make life any more okay.
After all, nobody ever really won The Games.
“Annie- Annie, it’s alright-”
“No, it’s not!” You heard something break, like it had thrown it to the ground. When you walked further into your house, your guess was proven right. Finnick and Annie stood in your living room, the former worried and the latter frantic, pieces of a broken vase all over the ground.
“Nothing is okay, Finn! Nothing! Do you hear me- nothing is okay!” The redhead was pacing around with your so called boyfriend trying to stop and calm her down. They were both so panicked that neither of them noticed you, and you didn’t announce your presence, either.
You only stood from the side, just like on that Capitol train. The Annie that went into that arena was innocent. She was eighteen, but she was still more of a child than either of you ever got the chance to be. Now that she won, she didn’t look so innocent anymore.
She wore a look that was so familiar to you. She was alive, but Annie had never looked more like a ghost of herself.
“Annie, please-” Finnick’s voice cracked mid-sentence. He kept trying to get close to her, but she moved away every time. The tears in his eyes made yours watery, too. You had never seen him look so broken, not even as you stood in the Capitol together those cold nights after being used.
If you weren’t sure of how much Finnick loved Annie, you were now.
“No, no, nothing is okay!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. She suddenly stopped, letting out a sob before collapsing onto the ground. Finnick ran to her right away, pulling her close and rocking her as she repeated the same thing over and over.
You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until you felt the tear falling onto your cheek, wiping at it immediately and turning around to walk away as quietly as you possibly could. You weren’t gonna just stand by and do nothing while Annie fell apart and Finnick cut himself trying to put the pieces back together. You couldn’t.
You found yourself in the kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove to distract yourself. Your eyes zeroed in on it as you tried to block out the sound of Annie’s crying, trying not to cry yourself. At one point, you succeeded, because you couldn’t hear anything anymore.
You don’t know how long you stood there, but you were eventually broken out of your trance by a hand reaching out in front of you to turn off the stove, moving the kettle. It was only now that you realized how loudly it was whistling.
You turned to see the hand belonged to Finnick who now poured the hot water into your expensive tea cups. They were a gift given to you by a patron of the Capitol, an old man with kids and a wife. He was somewhat of a regular of yours, and so he gave you that tea set to try and make himself feel better for what he was doing, along with many other gifts.
You never told Finnick any of this. You wondered if he would so readily pull them out if he knew where they came from.
He wordlessly put the tea bags into the cups, sliding one over on the island to where you stood. Then he brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip of the scalding liquid like it was nothing. You ignored your disbelief and the rational part of your brain, picking the cup to do the same thing.
When the tea met your tongue, it burned, even as it went down your throat, but you still went back in for a second sip, anyway. This pain was able to distract you from all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, and so that made it feel like it was worth it. You wondered if this was Finnick’s logic, too.
You didn’t say anything for a long while, didn’t ask about Annie or where she went. You knew he must’ve known that you heard what happened, but he didn’t mention it, either. You assumed that she fell asleep.
You wished you could fall asleep so easily, too.
Your song kept playing as you both danced around the same topics, standing together silently as your world crumbled. You danced, and danced, and danced, until your tea cups were empty, but the song was still playing.
Finnick’s voice cut through the silence of your music effortlessly, even though he was still so quiet.
“Sometimes, I think she would’ve been better off if she died.” You slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, but they were aimed at the cup in his hand. He looked nothing like the Prince of Panem, the charming man who always had something witty to say. No, he looked beaten down, just as lifeless as Annie. Maybe you looked as lifeless as you felt, too; maybe you were all so unaware of how broken you seemed.
You didn’t know what to say to his confession. So you didn’t say anything at all.
You’d never know where that conversation would’ve went, because in seconds, Finnick collected your cups, put them in the sink, and then he left you standing there.
His words from before echoed through your head. We will never be free, Y/N.
And maybe he was right.
Annie was back home, but she never really came back from that arena—none of you did. Hell, you were thrusted into a life you never wanted, a victor’s life, as soon as you were out. You thanked God that Annie wasn’t gonna have to go through what you did; the way she was spinning out made her undesirable. At least a good thing came out of her losing it.
Oh, you were starting to find a silver-lining with everything. You had to—otherwise, you’d lose it, just like Annie. You had to find some sort of good in this situation because, otherwise, what was the point?
Time supposedly healed all wounds, but you felt like you were still bleeding. You just learned to conceal it better than others.
Before The Games, you had friends. Now you really only talked to Finnick, and you two didn’t talk much, either. Every now and then, you’d see Annie and Mags, but they weren’t your people. And your family… well, how close could you be with them after what happened? You weren’t the same girl your mother raised.
She could barely even look at you anymore.
But you couldn’t think about any of this. If you did, you’d fall apart, and you couldn’t do that. You had a role to play, an image to protect—for your safety, for your family’s safety, for his safety.
You couldn’t afford to break down like that in your living room and throw things. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn’t have that luxury.
So your song kept playing, and you danced along with it.
Finnick’s walls went back up, too. His charisma was like a light bulb that briefly flickered, but it was back now. He was dancing, too. But, without even realizing it, you both held each other tighter at night, as if you were trying not to lose the other to the tornado that was your life.
However, when you woke up, you both pretended the tornado didn’t even exist.
Annie wasn’t one for pretending. Oh, she got wrapped up into the tornado the second she was declared a victor and there was no saving her anymore. Yes, she would’ve been better off dead, maybe you all would’ve been, but if you thought about this for too long, if you let the song stop, then you’d get caught in the cyclone, too.
You pretended for a year, attending Capitol galas with a smile on your face, getting interviewed right next to Finnick with his hand in yours, acting like you were the picture perfect couple. He spoke about you like he knew you like the back of his hand, but truth be told, he didn’t know you at all; he barely ever tried to. You didn’t blame him, though; it was hard to try to talk to someone when the music was so loud.
Then came the 71st Hunger Games, and you were mentors again. Meeting the tributes, it was almost like the music stopped- almost. The girl was quiet but angry, and she reminded you so much of yourself. The boy kept cracking jokes that she didn’t laugh at, jokes that were probably inappropriate for a time like this, but you knew he wasn’t doing it to be an ass. This was his way of coping.
He reminded you of Finnick.
Looking at these kids was like looking into a mirror. On the last day of training, he finally got a reaction out of her, made her smile with a faint blush on her cheeks. Oh, these kids should’ve been laughing together in the diner back home, not on their way to die.
They were too young and too innocent. It makes you wonder if things would’ve been different if you and Finnick had met before The Games. Would that have made soothed the heartbreak?
You didn’t know. But when you saw that boy crying as he held her in that arena, blood pouring onto him from her stab-wound, you knew that heartbreak was what he felt.
Too young. They were too young.
The boy died too. He didn’t even put up a fight.
These kids were just kids, and they died young.
Just like you and Finnick did.
You sat in your room at the Capitol, swirling your scotch around in your glass. It was a crystal glass so beautiful you knew it could’ve only been crafted by hand, but you didn’t want to admire it; you wanted to throw it at the wall.
Their names were Delta and Aalto. Aalto was the more talkative one; he said he dreamed of opening his own bakery one day, right in the middle of the district with food that everyone could afford and enjoy.
He’d never get to do that now.
And Delta- she didn’t know what she wanted out of life yet. She never got the chance to figure it out.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.
The door to the room opened, making you look up from the liquor in your hand to see Finnick walking into the room. He looked defeated. Of course, he was better at hiding it than you were, but you knew how to read him better now, after all these years.
The bed dipped as he sat down next to you. You held your glass out, almost like a peace offering, and he took it without much thought, downing it in one go.
You sat there together the same way you had many times before, not saying a word. But this time felt different. It felt like there was something you were supposed to say. So you turned to look at Finnick, trying to see if he felt the same weight, only to see that he was already looking at you.
You could tell just by his eyes that he felt it, too. He opened his mouth, then closed it like he’d lost his train of thought. When you met him, you never thought you’d see the day when Finnick was speechless.
Look at how wrong you were.
You opened your mouth after a few seconds, wanting to articulate your feelings in some way, but Finnick’s lips slammed against yours before you get anything out. Without thinking, you kissed back; it felt like second-nature to you.
This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but he had never kissed you like this, so passionately, not a camera in sight. He was kissing you like you were air and he’d been holding his breath for so long, like you were the treasure he’d been searching for and he didn’t want to let go.
It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced.
When you eventually pulled away for air and opened your eyes, you were brought back to the real world. There was something you were supposed to say. But you quickly disregarded it, pulling him back in for another kiss before he could notice the way you were looking at him.
Yes, there was something you were supposed to say. But you couldn’t put it into words.
So you hoped that this kiss said everything that you couldn’t.
You were both grieving, and you were both there. And you knew that Finnick didn’t like you like that, so you weren’t gonna get your hopes up. This meant nothing, even if it felt like everything for you when it was happening.
He was the only person you’d ever done anything like this with before. You did things with those people Snow set you up with, but that didn’t count. You were doing this because you wanted to. You didn’t know if this was his first time or not, but you weren’t gonna ask. You did everything but talk for the rest of the night.
When you woke up, it was still dark out and Finnick was still asleep. You stared at him for a few seconds, his fluffy blond hair that you messed up, his swollen lips. He looked so peaceful like this; you couldn’t bear to wake him up and ruin that, bring him back to this nightmare.
So you got up as quietly as you could, wrapping yourself in a robe and closing the door to the bedroom, walking into the living room. The rooms the Capitol provided the victors were beautiful, but never beautiful enough to make you forget about the ugly reason that you were here.
You sat on the couch, exhaling and leaning back. You were gonna sit there in silence, but your song kept playing, and the record was skipping, and you were starting to get a headache, so you turned on the TV.
Without having to change the channel at all, you were immediately met with the news, Caesar Flickerman’s face on the flat screen. It wasn’t long before you realized why he was so excited: the Hunger Games were over. Someone won.
Caesar’s attitude made your mood go sour. He was behaving like twenty-three children weren’t just killed. It didn’t matter if they died of starvation, dehydration, an animal, or actually another tribute—it was all murder, and the Capitol was the perpetrator. It disgusted you that there were people who found enjoyment in watching these Games, Caesar Flickerman included. They’d pretend to be sympathetic, but at the end of the day, you were all just circus animals to them.
The victor’s face came onto the TV, and you immediately recognized her from the rankings. Johanna Mason. Caesar kept talking, explaining how Johanna had managed to cause so many people to be enamoured of her, and you suddenly felt sick.
Snow was gonna jump at this opportunity. He was gonna use her, too.
You turned off the TV, going back to your room and getting back into bed like you’d never left. Your song came back on, and you went back to preferring to listen to it instead of your own thoughts. You weren’t gonna think about Johanna much longer; there wasn’t any point.
There was nothing you could do.
The next time you woke up and it was actually morning, you were surprised to see that Finnick was still there. While you were sleeping, he managed to snake his arms around you.
You didn’t get up, even though there were Capitol duties to attend to.
You stayed in bed and pretended that you were a normal couple, that maybe Finnick actually felt something for you, that you weren’t in the Capitol right now, that the world wasn’t so fucked up, that you weren’t so fucked up. But you didn’t pretend for long, eventually getting up and facing the world that you didn’t want to be apart of but had been sucked into.
He didn’t tell you this, but he was pretending, too.
You both went to the gatherings you had to go to, talked to the people you had to talk to, kept smiles on your faces, and shook Snow’s hand, even though it made you want to puke. You endured it all—you both did. The Prince and Princess of Panem…
You realized it was true what they said, heavy is the head that wears the crown. This figurative crown was weighing you down; you wondered if it’d be so coveted if people got the chance to feel how you felt.
Then you went back home, even if it didn’t really feel like a home to you. It was still all you had. But Finnick kept surprising you.
Your dance suddenly changed. The song was still playing, but the dance was different, almost like that night you’d spent together had actually meant something.
You started having dinner together every night. Before, you often forgot to eat, but now how could you? You were beginning to look forward to your daily dinners; there wasn’t much more to look forward to in the life you led.
He made it hard for you not to fall even more in love with him.
You two still didn’t talk during dinner, but it almost did feel normal, like you were a family- like you could be a family.
And then the dance changed again, and that dream felt even more real.
You pulled your chair out at your dinner table, sitting down across from Finnick. You were both dressed “down” in more comfortable clothes, but you knew there was some people in the district that still couldn’t afford them. That bothered you, but when you had dinner, most of your worries were pushed to the back of your mind.
When you two had dinner, you just enjoyed the dance.
You were a few minutes into dinner when you noticed that Finnick wasn’t eating but he was staring at you. He hadn’t stared at you like that since when you first met, so curiously, like you were a secret he wanted to be let in on.
You couldn’t ignore his stare, even if you tried. However, you tried to act nonchalant. “Is there something you want to say?” You quizzed, twirling another bite of pasta like you were unaffected by his gaze.
Finnick responded in the same beat, so much like the Finnick that was charismatic and lively, not the quiet one you normally lived with. “Something I want to ask you, actually.”
“Oh,” you said, immediately kicking yourself at how stupid you sounded. “Well, ask away.” He didn’t need to be told twice.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
You were caught off guard by his question, blinking like you were trying to figure out if you just imagined him saying him that or if he really did. He blinked back at you but never faltered.
“What?”
He repeated himself, slower this time. “What is your favourite colour?” You blinked again when you realized he was being totally serious. “You know, colours, like a rainbow-”
“I know what colours are, Finnick.”
“Ohhhh.” His eyes got big as if he thought you actually didn’t know what a rainbow was. “Sorry, you were just looking at me like I had said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. So what’s your favourite colour?”
You couldn’t stop the corners of your lips going up as his grin just got wider. God, you hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long. It actually looked real.
You thought about it for a second, looking right into his eyes when you came up with an answer. “It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.”
He looked at you for a few seconds before blurting, “Y/N, that sounds like the least vibrant shade of blue I’ve ever heard of.”
You laughed. “It’s vibrant to me!” He laughed, too, shaking his head like you were crazy. That shade of blue that you described was more vibrant than any other blue you’d ever seen. You could never tired of looking at it whenever you looked into Finnick’s eyes.
When the laughter died down, you asked him the same question. “Okay, now what’s your favourite colour?”
He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”
You scoffed, “Oh, come. on. You have to have a favourite colour; you can’t be that boring.”
“That boring? I’m not boring at all,” he argued, a look of faux offence on his face.
You snorted. “I beg to differ.”
“I can make you beg a lot more if you don’t take that back.” Your eyes immediately went wide and, against your will, a faint redness spread on your cheeks.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked pleased at the reaction he got out of you. “Take it back.”
You scoffed again, but you weren’t sure if it was because of your stubbornness or because you wanted to see how far you could push him. “I’m not taking anything back.”
He just stared at you for a few seconds before flashing that famous smirk of his, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Really?”
You crossed your arms, too, nodding. “Mhm.”
He chuckled. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”
And then he spent the rest of the night showing you just how boring he wasn’t.
The day after, you didn’t wake up dejected but instead with a smile on your face. You didn’t get out of bed at all, staying in Finnick’s arms. You felt giddy, like a school girl. There were no thoughts of his lack of feelings for you, Annie, or The Games. You just laid there and enjoyed the moment.
It didn’t even feel like you were pretending.
When Finnick woke up, you did it all over again. You ended up staying in bed all day together, cancelling your plans.
And when the time came to get out of bed, to go back to the real world, the music didn’t go back to normal. It was more upbeat now. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the beat to drop, but it didn’t.
Finnick didn’t pretend like you two sleeping together never happened. In fact, you two kept doing it almost every day. You actually had conversations during dinner. You learned basic things about him that you hadn’t known in all of the time you were living together.
He made you laugh often. You stopped crying so much.
Is this what happiness feels like? you wondered. If it was, you never wanted anything different. Whatever Finnick felt for you, it didn’t matter. As long as he kept making you happy, it didn’t matter.
You were so in love with him that it stopped mattering if he reciprocated your feelings. You didn’t want anything to ruin this, what you had. Your relationship was the most special thing you’d ever had, even if you didn’t know what to call it, so you were gonna do your damn best to hold onto it.
The things he’d say in front of the cameras felt real, then the things he did when you were alone made you believe it even more. Whatever this was between you, it felt real.
So real.
You were stirring something on the stove when two arms snaked around your waist, tickling you, making a squeal fly from your lips. “Finnick!” You screeched, trying to suppress your giggles as you turned around. The culprit (who was shirtless) didn’t look guilty at all, a shit-eating grin on his face. You shoved his shoulder. “I am trying to cook us breakfast.”
He snorted. “Yeah, trying and failing.” You shoved him again, causing him to laugh. “I’m sorry, you can’t cook!”
You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “I’ll have you know, I can cook very well, actually.”
He wrapped his arms around you again. “You know, you’re cute when you pout.”
“I’m not pouting!” You exclaimed, but a blush still arose on your cheeks that Finnick noticed right away. It was almost like he was always watching for those types of things, always trying to say or do something to get you red.
“You’re even cuter when you blush.”
Your blush worsened, but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of your defeat. “I’m not blushing. We’re in a kitchen, and it’s hot.”
He pulled you closer to him, grin widening. “Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart, about your blushing or your cooking.” He glanced behind you. “Oh, look, burnt food.”
Your eyes went wide, immediately turning around. You groaned when you saw the brown eggs and the trail of smoke coming from them. “It’s all your fault, Finn, you distracted me.”
He gave your head a kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Sure, darling, whatever you say.” Luckily, you were turned away from him so he couldn’t see how your cheeks reddened. You still weren’t used to the pet names, even though Finnick seemed to adore them. “Let’s leave the cooking to me from now on.”
You lightly scoffed, “Whatever.” He kissed your cheek before you started walking away, planning to sit on the couch while you waited for him to cook the food. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smug.
“Who messes up eggs?” he muttered under his breath once you were a few feet away.
“I heard that, Finnick!” you shouted, but he only let out a loud laugh.
You shook your head at him, plopping down onto the couch in the adjoining living room and turning the TV on, but it was really just background noise. You found it much more enticing to watch Finnick cook. The way he moved so swiftly looked effortless; he knew what he was doing, that was sure. And it didn’t help that he was shirtless.
You discreetly stared at him for a while—or, you thought you were being discreet. Without looking up from what he was doing, he teased, “You know that I can feel you ogling at me, right?”
You went red as a tomato. “Shut up, Finnick!” you shrieked, turning back to the TV as if you even knew what was playing. His laugh boomed and you turned up the volume to tune it out, only causing him to laugh even louder.
Even though you were thoroughly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring at him, a smile still found its way onto your face. Around Finnick, it was hard not find a reason to smile.
You’d be content if you didn’t do anything for the rest of your life but wake up to him every day.
You spent many more mornings like that together, and lunches, and dinners, and everything in between. You exchanged jokes and playful banter constantly. Finnick really did make your cheeks hurt.
But he knew when to be serious.
There were still nights when you’d wake up from nightmares, and he’d comfort you back to sleep every time. When you caught him in a nightmare, you’d try your best to repay the favour, even though that didn’t happen often. He rarely wanted you to see him like that, so he hid his nightmares, but you did everything you could to keep him happy while he was awake to make up for it.
When you went to the Capitol, all of the darkness crept back in, squeezing in through the cracks of the walls that you’d built—for both of you. But you kept each other grounded. You weren’t alone.
Once, he had to talk you back from the edge as you had a panic attack in the bathroom. He locked the door and stayed there with you until you calmed down. You told him that you saw someone you hadn’t seen up close in a while, an old patron, and that just opened the floodgates. You saw his hands ball up into fists; he tried to hide the anger on his face, but you saw it and you understood it.
He was angry at the Capitol, and so were you. He’d been through the same things you had, and that made it so much easier to cope, to have someone that understood. He understood for you and you understood for him, and so when things were bad, they at least became more okay. As long as you were there for each other, things were okay.
Meeting Johanna Mason at a later event nearly brought you right back to the brink. Her family was dead, she’d told you. And you wished you hadn’t understood so fast. You wished that none of you ever had to understand these things, that you could’ve stayed kids for longer before childhood was ripped away from you.
It’s not fair, you cried to Finnick. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.
He let you cry on his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he whispered, I know. It’s not fair, I know. But it was the world you lived in, and, unfortunately, neither of you had the power to do anything about it, even though you were the so called Prince and Princess of Panem.
So you did what you could. You were there for Johanna like how you were there for Finnick when you still didn’t know him. Both of you were there for her, teaching her the moves to your dance so she could dance with you while you were all at the Capitol together.
She was brutally honest, maybe even rude to the average onlooker, but it was what The Games did to her. Finnick and you understood that, and that led to you both forming a friendship with her. Coping with other people, people who understood, was the best painkiller that not even money could provide.
The Games were the hardest, but you went through that together, too. You trained those tributes with everything you had. You tried your best, but sometimes, not even that was enough to keep them alive. Finnick and you would grieve together. At times, he was more rational than you, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault, that these were games made to kill.
Whatever you went through, you went through it together. The good days, the bad days, the laughs, the tears—you were together every step of the way.
Things went like this for years. You really were a team, and nothing could convince you otherwise this time. You loved him more and more each day, but you never told him that; you didn’t need to, and you didn’t need him to love you, either. Being there, being together was good enough.
Your song never got old. You were so in sync as you danced. Oh, you never would’ve thought that Finnick Odair of all people would not only make your life bearable, but also joyful.
You were fake boyfriend and girlfriend, and yeah those lines started to blur, but you also became best friends over time.
Finnick and you lied together in bed, the TV going on in the background. Your head was on his chest as he pet your hair. It was your seventh time doing this mentor thing, but it never seemed to get easier.
Your tributes were promising, but they still died early on, even though you both got them as many sponsors as you could. Mentors were usually down in the lobby, talking to sponsors and watching The Games with everyone else, but after your tributes died, there was no point.
So you went upstairs, and you both just lied there. It was one of those times where neither of you had to say anything. You were together, alive together, and that was enough.
Listening to Finnick’s heartbeat could calm you down in any situation. You must’ve been doing something to help him, too, because his heartbeat was steady. You stayed like that for a bit until he moved a bit, murmuring under his breath, “What?”
He sat up, making you sit up, too, while he grabbed the remote, turning the volume up. You glanced at it and the scene immediately caught your attention. You heard the last bits of what the announcer was saying, that a rule about two victors was being annulled. Your brows furrowed; you must not have seen the part where any such thing was declared.
You recognized the tributes who you quickly realized were the last people left standing. They were the kids from district 12, the Girl on Fire and the boy in love with her.
You scoffed. “Of course, they want the star-crossed lovers to battle to the death.” You were about to turn away, refusing to indulge in the Capitol’s bullshit, but Finnick grabbed onto your arm.
“Wait.”
You stopped, turning back. The girl, Katniss, had a bow and arrow in her hands. Peeta was a few steps away from her. They were both staring at each other, Katniss looking like she didn’t know what do, but Peeta looked like he already accepted that he was going to die.
You didn’t want to watch this, watch two people fall apart on television, but for some reason, this had captured Finnick’s attention.
One of us should go home, he said. One of us has to die; they have to have their victor. Katniss was already shaking her head.
No. She dropped her arrow to the ground, walking forward. They don’t.
You tilted your head, but you understood what was happening when she pulled a handful of berries from her pocket. “Holy shit.”
Peeta grabbed her hand, rejecting the idea immediately, but she whispered, Trust me. He must’ve really been in love with her, because he did. She poured some berries into the palm of his hand, making you lean closer.
“You don’t think they’re gonna…” you trailed off, puzzled. There were people that’d killed themselves in past games, but this had never happened. There was always a victor.
Peeta hesitated, but looked sure when he looked back into Katniss’ eyes. Together? he mumbled.
She repeated his words. Together. She looked up for a second, and then you suddenly recognized the look on her face. This was a bluff.
They counted down from three, and just as they were gonna bring the berries to their mouths, the announcer frantically cut in, Stop- stop! He cleared his throat. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners… of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.
Relief flooded into Katniss’ eyes as she embraced Peeta in a hug. Shock flowed through you, and Finnick’s expression was no different.
Once you had processed the information, you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your face, disbelief and pride filling you at the same time. “They just screwed the Capitol.”
You turned to see him smirking. “Hell yeah, they did.”
And this made your Hunger Games experience just a little bit better.
Neither of you were surprised that Seneca Crane was found dead days later. He made a grave mistake, letting two victors win. Snow wouldn’t have that, and you could guess why.
What Katniss and Peeta did was causing chatter, sparking hope. People in district 4 were more hush-hush about it, but outlying districts, like 11, had gone into revolts. The Capitol must’ve been stressed, and knowing that brought you some sick form of comfort.
Katniss and Peeta were spinning their actions, making them out to be this act of love, like they couldn’t bear to live without each other, but you and Finnick saw right through it. After all, if there was anyone who could spot a fake relationship, it was you two.
However, the two love-birds flew from your mind when you got home. You were brought back to your little world, living life alongside Finnick. The urge grew to ask him what you were, if you were still in a fake relationship just like Katniss and Peeta or if this was real, as real as you felt it was, but you didn’t wanna mess up the one good thing you had going.
The truth was, you don’t know how long you would’ve made it without him.
Finnick was your lifeline, and he had no idea.
The next time you were at the Capitol, you were in the Presidential Palace for the so called biggest party of the year. It was always hosted right before the Hunger Games, so being there gave you many things to be anxious about.
But, like always, you concealed it, smiling and shaking hands with the people you came across, even as you were disgusted. Some of these people, the very people who paid for your body at sixteen, were there with their families. You wondered how they could have children and still do what they did.
You were a child, too.
Normally, Finnick would be there to calm you down, but he snuck off somewhere without telling you.
You were wandering around, trying to find him when a head of brown hair streaked with red came into your view. “Hey, Princess.”
A sigh left your lips, both out of relief that you found someone you knew and discontent at the nickname. “Hey, Jo.” You would usually make conversation with her, but you were pretty distracted, glancing around behind her. “Have you seen Finnick anywhere? I’ve been looking for him for a while now.”
When you looked back to her, a look you couldn’t decipher flashed across her face, but it was gone in an instant. “No, can’t say I have.”
For some reason, you got a weird feeling from her. It was almost like she knew something that you didn’t.
“Hey, why don’t we go grab a bite while we wait for him?” She suggested, gesturing to the buffet. “I’m starving.”
You shook your head, dazed. “I’ll catch up with you- I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”
She perked up. “I’ll go with you.”
You were quick to decline. “No, that’s fine; go eat. I’ll be back in a sec.” She was hesitant for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but she eventually nodded, agreeing to meet you later.
You walked through the halls, passing the bathrooms and not even sparing them a glance. You didn’t really know why you lied about where you were going, but in that moment, it felt like instinct. You trusted Johanna, but you were catching the same weird vibe from countless other people. All you wanted was to find Finnick and have him tell you everything was alright.
You didn’t have to look long before you found him, outside along with many other partygoers. But he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a man you’d just recently seen on TV. You just couldn’t remember his name.
You made your way over to them. They cut themselves off as soon as they saw you, not letting you overhear a single detail of whatever they were talking about. You stifled the reappearance of that weird feeling that was starting to feel a lot like suspicion. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”
Finnick waved you off, “No, it’s fine, sweetheart.” He pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee.” A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked to the man.
He was Seneca Crane’s replacement.
What the hell was Finnick doing talking to him?
“It’s an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, holding his hand out. There was something about him that was throwing you off, not just your revelation of who he was, but you still shook his hand.
“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Heavensbee,” you replied, smiling your umpteenth fake smile of the night. But you had an inkling that no one in the Capitol was as genuine as they seemed.
Plutarch didn’t try to stay and make small talk like the rest of the people you encountered at the Capitol, bidding you both farewell and wishing you a good night. Something told you his departure had something to do with your arrival.
Once he was out of earshot, you turned in Finnick’s arms. “Was that the new head Gamemaker?” He nodded, but didn’t offer any explanation. You furrowed your brows. “What were you talking about?”
Finnick shrugged nonchalantly, but for some reason, he seemed tense. “He wanted to meet the youngest victor of The Games.”
You found that hard to believe, holding back a scoff. “Well, he didn’t seem too interested in meeting me.”
A smile arose on his face as he wrapped his arms back around your waist. “That is because you, darling, are not the youngest person to ever win.”
This time, you did scoff, but the tense atmosphere dissipated. “You’re a dick.”
“You love me.” Your heart nearly stopped, but you kept your composure. You did love him, more than he’d ever know.
You shook your head, acting unaffected. “C’mon, Johanna’s waiting for us by the buffet.” You tried walking away, but your faux façade of annoyance was broken by Finnick latching onto your hand and walking forward with you, chuckling.
And then the entire matter of everyone’s weird behaviour was pushed to the back of your mind.
Returning home from the Capitol was always peaceful, like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but this time was unlike any of those other times. When you got home, the so called peace that the Capitol so delicately crafted was ripping at the seams.
The chatter from before, from when Katniss and Peeta defied the Capitol, was louder than ever. They had just gone on their victor’s tour, right before you left for the Presidential Palace, and they had apparently sparked a reaction in just about every district they visited, yours included.
You found out that district 4 had been in a revolt since Everdeen and Mellark came and gave their speech. The people were outraged. The news talked about seafood shortages due to bad weather, but the Capitol just didn’t want to let Panem know what was going on, that people were refusing work, that Peacekeepers were murdering innocent people left and right for the smallest of incidents.
When you were all caught up with what had happened, you were furious, too. You wanted to march out onto the streets and give the Capitol the finger, but Finnick pulled you back.
“What are you gonna do, Y/N?” he questioned, not even giving you the time to answer. “You don’t even know.”
Your voice was vicious as you responded, a tone you’d never given him. You were angry, and you both knew you weren’t thinking clearly; you just didn’t care. “I don’t know right now, but I’m gonna do something, Finnick.” You tried pulling your arm away, but he was much stronger than you.
“I’m not gonna let you go out there and get yourself killed.” You could tell by his demeanour that he was angry, but not for the same reasons that you were.
You shook your head. “You of all people should understand where I’m coming from.”
His eyes went hard. “You must not know me well if you think I’d let my girlfriend kill herself.” That shut you up.
His girlfriend.
He called you his girlfriend.
You got over the shock and, suddenly, you were even more angry than before. While you could pretend all you wanted to that you lived in candy-land, the cruel reality was still there. Finnick didn’t love you. He was only playing with your emotions.
Tears built up in your eyes: sad tears, angry tears—they were everything tears. You felt everything. “I’m your girlfriend now?”
He scoffed, “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.”
“I am so serious right now.”
At your deadpan, he finally let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair. A part of you felt bad that he was so stressed, but you were stressed, too. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say when he looked back up at you. His voice was no longer harsh, but small. “Y/N, please.”
You swallowed.
“I’m just asking you to trust me.” He grabbed onto your hands. “Please just trust me.” He was begging you.
“Trust you to do what?”
“I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please.” He held your hands tighter. “Trust me.”
Oh, it didn’t matter how angry you were, if your thoughts were set in stone. Finnick would still be able to mold you like clay. Every time.
“I trust you.”
There was something different about him, but you were too distracted to try and figure it out.
There were so many things going on.
You were with Annie when it happened. Oh, that must have been some cruel joke from the universe. You were walking through the town square, on your way to Victors’ Village with pastries from the bakery in your hands. You were slowed down by the all of the people congregating together, watching the screen.
President Snow was announcing the third Quarter Quell, and they were eating it up. You weren’t gonna do that, entertain his lunacy. You’d go the Capitol and play your role, but you weren’t gonna watch these broadcasts anymore. You weren’t gonna play along.
Finnick could explain it to you later so you’d be able to prep your tributes. The Quells were always made out to be the hallmark of The Games; they were always harder. You felt for whatever kids would have to go through them.
You felt a lot more once you realized who these tributes were gonna be.
You weren’t listening to what Snow was was saying, but his words cut through any sort of mental block you had. “On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are… to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.”
Your stopped walking as if you’d hit a wall, the stuff in your hands falling the ground, but it was almost like you didn’t hear it. You stopped hearing anything, not Snow explaining the condition or everyone’s gasps. Your ears rang. Everything was muffled like you were underwater.
You were done. You were supposed to be done. You went through those Games, you won, and now you were supposed to be done.
He was gonna make you go through it all over again.
You were so shocked that you pinched yourself, like you were a child and this was some nightmare, and even though you didn’t wake up, even though you knew you were awake, you were still caught in a nightmare that you’d have to die to escape from.
Your senses came back to you and you spun around, pulling Annie into a tight hug the second you saw the tears streaming down her face. She muttered the same thing over and over into your shoulder.
“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”
She couldn’t go through this again. The Games broke her beyond repair. She couldn’t mentor because of it; she could barely ever attend any of the Capitol parties you and Finnick frequented. She would die in that arena, either mentally or physically.
You couldn’t let that happen.
Your song played on a loop in your mind, making the decision for you. You were reminded that, even though your dance may have changed, Finnick didn’t love you. He loved Annie, and he would be destroyed if she died.
You couldn’t let that happen.
You couldn’t let Mags go back into the arena, either. He needed her. These were the only people he cared about; you couldn’t let them go through this.
Then and there, you decided your fate.
You were gonna be the one to go back into the arena, and no one was gonna stop you.
When you and Annie had made it to your house, ignoring all of the looks of pity thrown your way, Finnick looked just as beaten down as you, but not surprised. You didn’t have time to analyze that.
He hugged Annie first, shooting you an apologetic look, but you didn’t understand what it was for. You knew what Annie meant to him.
You weren’t so deluded that you’d believe you came before her. Besides, she needed to be consoled more than you did. You were calm. Annie was lost right now, but you knew exactly where you were headed.
That night, once Annie left, your clothes came off, and you and Finnick had the softest sex you ever had. It was gentle, and you let yourself feel loved one last time. You let yourself be selfish and have this one thing, just one last time.
You knew that the odds of coming out of that arena were slim, so you kissed Finnick like you were gonna die the very next day. I just might, you thought. And then as you fell asleep in his arms, you pretended that everything was alright. You pretended that your dance wasn’t gonna end so soon, that you weren’t gonna sign your life away when you woke up, that Finnick really loved you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him. You pretended one last time.
The next day, you and all of the other victors walked to the Hall of Justice, escorted by a dozen Peacekeepers. There were so many male tributes. As terrible as it sounded, you were praying that it’d be one of them that was chosen, not Finnick. If he was, then you would throw away any chance you had of winning.
If he went in with you, then he’d be the one walking out.
Cassia Locke stood in the middle of the stage, in between the male and female victors. You found it funny, almost: you were victors, but now the Capitol was gonna rip that refuge away after they’d already taken everything from you.
Cassia was just another mutt in your eyes. She was district 4’s Capitol escort; she was meant to be an advisor, but she didn’t do that well, not for you or the other tributes you mentored. But you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised. Her job was to make spectacles, not survivors.
However, she almost looked human for a moment, glancing at the women sympathetically before she pulled out a folded paper from the bowl. You stood on edge; there were only three of you. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick also stood straighter in trepidation.
She cleared her throat, announcing, “The female tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games and third Quarter Quell is… Annie Cresta.”
Annie’s face fell, but you quickly stepped forward. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“Y/N, what are you doing?” Annie whispered, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed her off and ignored her.
Cassia nodded. “Very well, then.” She moved back to the bowl. “Now for the males.”
You glanced over to see that Finnick was already looking at you, an unknown emotion written all over his face, though you realized what it was quickly. Betrayal.
You were confused why. If anything, he should’ve been relieved.
“The male tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games will be…” she unfolded the paper, “Finnick Odair.”
Your heart dropped. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
The universe must’ve hated you.
Finnick’s mask was back on. Any trace of emotion on his face was erased and replaced with the cocky, charming façade that he’d perfected. He smirked as if he wasn’t just chosen for the most brutal “game” there ever was, like there was nothing to be worried about.
He was so good at pretending. Maybe even better than you.
You both walked toward the centre of the stage simultaneously, routinely. You’ve danced this dance before.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.”
Right after that, Peacekeepers came from the side, trying to grab at your arms, but you shook them off. “We know where to go,” you said. You don’t know if it was the your tone of voice or the look on your face, but they actually listened.
You were escorted into an inactive chamber, the same one you were brought to for your first Games. Memories flashed through your mind before you shook them away. You couldn’t get PTSD right before you went into this.
Finnick was stoic as he stared you, but before either of you could say anything, Mags and Annie came rushing into the room. Annie took you by surprise, immediately engulfing you tightly.
She was still crying, but manage to blubber out through her tears, “Why- why would you do that?”
You rubbed her back. “Annie-”
“Why would you do that for me? It was supposed to be me. Supposed to be me, supposed to be me.” She kept repeating herself over and over, shaking in your arms.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick and Mags watching you. “It’s gonna be okay, Annie,” you told her, but you knew it was a lie. “I’m gonna be fine.” You weren’t.
As if she knew this, she only cried harder. You didn’t know what else to say, so you just kept rubbing her back, hoping that she’d calm down. Eventually, she stopped shaking, but tears kept flowing from her eyes like a waterfall. She tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.
She sniffled, going over to hug Finnick, then hugging you one last time before she left. “Take care of each other- please,” she asked, and you weren’t thinking of doing anything but.
You nodded, assuring her that you would do just that. Mags hugged you, saying the words she couldn’t express through her gaze. You could tell that neither of them wanted to leave, but they had to.
Only one of you was gonna come back, and that was gonna be hard to come to terms with.
They left, and then it was just you and Finnick. The music kept playing, and playing, and playing, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You didn’t want to hear this song ever again if it could be your last time listening.
If you could have it your way, you’d dance together until the end of time. But forever was never promised, not in the world you lived in.
The silence, however, felt like it lasted a forever in the moment, so you broke it. “Can you say something?” Finnick just kept staring at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The music got louder. Tears came to your eyes. “Please.”
Maybe he took pity on you, because he did say something. You just weren’t sure if it was any better than the silence. “Why would you do that?” His voice was cold.
You felt cold.
You swallowed. “Finn-”
“Why would you volunteer?” He stepped closer to you, so much venom seeping through his tone that you thought you were gonna be sick. “Annie was going to go-”
You cut him off, throwing your hands up. “You saw her, Finnick. She’s a mess.”
“She was going to be fine-”
“She can’t go through The Games again!” You shouted, losing it. Why was he berating you as if you didn’t just save the love of his life? “It would kill whatever part of her is left.”
“She would’ve been fine. You would’ve been fine-”
“God, why do you care about what happens to me? Annie’s gonna be okay—you’re gonna be able to come home to her and build the family you’ve always wanted-”
He snapped. “You’re my family!” You recoiled like he just hit you with his words. It was like you’d been doused in cold water. Finnick sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was a beat where neither of you said anything, letting his revelation soak in.
But you didn’t know what that meant.
When he spoke up again, his voice was quieter. He didn’t look like the Finnick that smirked up on that stage; he looked defeated, not triumphant. “You’re my family, Y/N. Don’t you get that?” He looked back up at you. “I could’ve protected Annie in that arena, and you would’ve been safe, here—not there with me.”
You shook your head. “There is no protecting someone in an arena- you and I know that best.” You let a tear fall, smiling sadly. “You’re gonna come home, Finnick-”
“Stop.”
“You’re gonna come home and you’re gonna live a long life with Annie-”
“Stop it.”
“You have people to take care of. I don’t.”
“Y/N, stop it.”
Another tear. “You deserve this-”
“Stop it.” Finnick grabbed onto your shoulders. You didn’t even know he got so close. “I’m not gonna let you die in there. Do you hear me? You’re not dying.”
“Only one of us is coming back, Finn. It’s gonna be you.”
You don’t know if your eyes were just really that blurry or if there were actually tears in his eyes, too. “No, you are coming home-”
“Finni-”
He grabbed you tighter. “We are both coming home.” The dam in your eyes broke, and all of the tears you were trying to hold came flooding down your cheeks.
Why was he saying these things? He knew it was impossible.
“We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear,” he promised, but these were promises he couldn’t keep. These were things he couldn’t control. Why was he lying to you- why was he lying to himself?
You wanted to say all these things, to scream, to tell him that it wasn’t true, that you were going to die. But then you remembered every other time you lied in bed together, every time you kissed and held each other. You’ve been lying to yourself all along, pretending you could have a future together when, deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.
So you held everything in, pulling Finnick to you and hugging him with everything you had. You were gonna let him pretend, just this last time.
You were gonna dance together one last time.
You spent the entire train ride in each other’s arms, only getting up to eat and go to the bathroom before getting back in bed. You didn’t have mentors—you were the mentors. You’d been here before already, and that was surreal in and of itself.
You thought you already won. But nobody ever won, did they?
Those games killed everyone, victors included.
The press was insane, but just as you expected it. You were the Prince and Princess of Panem; they didn’t want to watch you die. Turns out, people in the Capitol did have hearts; clearly, they weren’t all too functional.
This visit, in more ways than one, was completely different from any other time you’d been in the city. Instead of the graceful show you normally put on, waving and smiling, you were much more mute. You were gonna die, anyway, so what was the point of continuing to be a puppet?
Finnick was still his usual self, smirky and arrogant, but even his anger snuck through the cracks of his act. All of you were angry, all of the victors. You could tell just by the mere glances you’d gotten of them, by the news coverage. Nobody wanted to go into an arena and kill people, not even the Careers (who you’d admit were pretty crazy).
However, this was all still a show to the Capitol, with you as the unlucky cast. And the show had to go on.
You and Finnick were separated to be prepped by the “glam teams.” The first time around, you remember being scared, but now you were just bored.
You were sitting idly in the dressing room, waiting for your designer when a man walked in, making you raise a brow.
This was a designer, but not your designer.
“Wait, I know you.” You tilted your head as his face became more familiar to you. “You’re Cinna- you designed those outfits with the fire.”
Cinna nodded in a way that you perceived as both humble and prideful at the same time. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Princess.”
This elicited a bitter chuckle from you. “Please, call me Y/N.” You then stood up to shake his hand when your curiosity sparked. “Aren’t you Katniss’ designer?”
“Yes, but I’m also going to be designing your outfits, as well,” he replied. “The head Gamemaker requested it. You are the Princess, after all.”
The corners of your lips went up. Most people you met at the Capitol would beat around the bush, but this guy didn’t seem shy. It was refreshing. You teased, “Ah, and since I’m a princess, I get Panem’s best to dress me?”
Cinna chuckled a bit under his breath, but didn’t confirm or deny your comment. He dived straight into his plans, explaining what he wanted to for you with a twinkle in his eye that you noticed most artists had when speaking about their work. “I want to stay true to the district 4 theme, but I want to make a statement.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling.”
He smiled. “We’re gonna show the Capitol that they can’t control you.”
And then your little smile turned into a grin.
Cinna did not disappoint. You were in a golden, long-sleeve, grid shirt with holes where the squares were supposed to be; your velvet skirt was a dark blueish-green, skin-tight; and atop your head was a golden crown, decorated with blue jewels.
Of course, it wasn’t a normal outfit, but you were gonna save the theatrics for the parade.
Finnick was around somewhere, likely causing trouble while you were walking around, looking for Johanna. However, you ended up running into someone else.
“Peeta,” you called, and he turned around. He immediately reminded you of Finnick, a mask of charm hiding him. Although Peeta had only been at this for a year, he already knew how to play the game, unlike Katniss who was rather unapproachable.
“Y/N,” he greeted. He scrambled for something to say for a few seconds. “I heard about how you volunteered for that girl. It was really brave.”
You hummed, almost sarcastically. “You don’t have to suck up to me—it’s not like I bite.”
He got red, making you stifle a laugh. “That’s, uh- that’s not what I meant-”
“It’s fine, I get it,” you waved it off. “It’s probably intimidating to be here around all of us, just a year after you won.” He didn’t say anything, just awkwardly smiled. “You know, you don’t have to be scared. You have a lot of power ‘round here; you just need to learn how to wield it.”
He gave you a confused look, so you elaborated, “There’s power in the masses, Peeta. The people here love you.” You paused. “Use that.”
A look of realization crossed his face, and so you decided that you said all you needed to say. He thanked you, but his mind looked to be elsewhere. You nodded, then walked off to find your carriage.
Sure, the Capitol could try and treat you all like pieces on a chess board, but if you got rid of the board altogether, then there would be no game to play. You spoke to Peeta to help him realize that. It didn’t matter if you were all meant to be on different sides; until you got into that arena, you were all one team, and you were gonna try your hardest to stop The Games before they began.
If that didn’t work, then you would just have to concede. One way or another, you would make sure that Finnick made it out of that arena alive. Peeta reminded you an awful lot of him, and while you would otherwise be rooting for him, you would choose Finnick if it came down to it.
You met Finnick at the chariot not long after leaving Peeta. He was shirtless, wearing a skirt similar to your top, rope around his wrists like bracelets. If you weren’t about to go into this stupid parade, you would’ve probably been making out already, but you were far too worried to think about that.
You had Cinna to thank for calming your nerves, giving you something to look forward to. Once the parade had started and you were coming through, you pressed the button of the device he had given you and then your top went up in flames, disintegrating until you were just in a black bralette, revealing the swirls of blue they painted on your arms, resembling waves. The rope around Finnick’s wrists caught fire, too, burning up until there was nothing there.
The crowd cheered, chanting your names. The faintest of smirks grew on your lips, but you really had to stifle your enjoyment when you saw Snow staring your carriage down.
What you did symbolized freeing yourself of the shackles of the Capitol, of these stupid Games. They could try, but they wouldn’t control you.
You would’ve usually felt some sort of fear- hell, you were never so defiant just in fear of what they would do to you. But what more could they do to you? They were already going to kill you. You didn’t care anymore.
After the parade, you ran into Johanna who gave you a good laugh as she told you how she stripped in the elevator. You would’ve paid good money to see it, that was for sure. You also talked to a few other victors on your way back to your suite.
You’d been friends with many of these people for years and now the Capitol was just gonna try and pit you against each other. None of you were looking forward to that—you were friends. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t make any allies.
Alliances didn’t last forever in the arena, but they lasted long enough. Considering your status, almost everyone wanted you and your “boyfriend” as allies; they certainly didn’t want you as enemies.
The next day was spent at the training centre, a brand new one made specially for the Quarter Quell. The thought made you roll your eyes. The Capitol would spend their money on things like this and yet there were still kids out there starving. What kind of world was that? One that you were okay with leaving, so long as Finnick would remain in it.
On your way in, you passed Cashmere and Gloss throwing knives at holograms. They were good, you noted, but not better at it than you. Johanna was off practicing by herself—though you were sure that she was doing it more so to release her pent-up aggression. Wiress and Beetee, Nuts and Volts as Jo called them, were by themselves, much less violent than everyone else here and much more strategic. Finnick was tying knots, looking more bored than anything. And you… you weren’t doing anything.
You leaned back on a wall, watching the other tributes instead of joining them. You didn’t care about the rankings or making yourself look dangerous. You didn’t have anything to prove; you did that already, and you really didn’t need to “practice,” either.
You’ve danced this dance before.
However, not everyone was so aware of just how well you danced last time.
“Not practicing?” You turned your head, seeing the newest victor walking up to you, donning her famous hairstyle. The corners of your lips quirked up in amusement.
She must have been told to make friends. You couldn’t imagine it was working out so well if she was coming to you.
“Don’t need to, Everdeen,” you replied, shrugging. “I don’t need the spotlight; got enough of that.”
She lightly snorted. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” And you didn’t doubt that. Katniss had definitely captured the attention of Panem with her actions, and she certainly acquired the attention of the Capitol. Snow couldn’t have been her biggest fan.
In another life, you could picture you and her being friends, but you knew it wasn’t gonna happen in this one.
“You’re lucky, you know,” you said. You knew she didn’t see that way, and maybe it was a little bitter of you to say that, but it was true. At least she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough for it to burn her like it’d burned you.
She scoffed, “How so?” The girl had restraint, you’d give her that. She clearly wanted to say a lot more than that, but she was smart. She knew better.
You shrugged again. “You just are.” And you left it there. If she wanted all the dirty details about you, she could try her luck with one of the other victors, but you doubted she sensed the real meaning of your words. She hadn’t been dancing long enough to even hear the song yet.
A dramatic sigh then escaped your lips. “Ah, though I suppose even your luck can only run so far, Girl on Fire. So sorry about your wedding.” The sarcasm in your voice was toned down just enough that it wasn’t so evident but evident enough to make your point.
She gave you a tense smile, although you weren’t sure if any of Katniss’ smiles ever weren’t tense. “Thanks,” she responded with zero sincerity in her tone. “I’m sorry you and Finnick never had one, either. Would’ve been a real royal occasion.”
You hummed, smiling your royal smile back at her. The Kat has claws, you thought. But you didn’t really feel like standing here and trading subliminals with her all day; you’d have enough of that with everyone else, anyway.
You left it at that, going to walk away before pausing as if you’d forgotten something. “Tell Haymitch I said hi.” You gave her a once over. “He’s done a good job.” And then you walked away.
Finnick’s voice rang through your head: May the odds be ever in your favour, darling. You almost felt like recycling that line and repeating it to Katniss, but you had already messed with her enough.
Your demeanour was in stark contrast of how you normally behaved. You may have been more agreeable or kind at home, sweet on cameras, but in this territory, you had an entirely different reputation. Sharp, cunning, unpredictable—ruthless. That’s the way it needed to be if you wanted to survive, or at least survive long enough to do what you needed to do.
So, you supposed that you had a mask, too.
You all did.
When you got back to your suite later in the evening, Finnick informed you of Katniss’ display with her bow and arrow, how she had renowned victors quaking in their boots, but people were even more scared of you, and you hadn’t even done anything at training.
You basically had the entire pool of tributes to choose from for an alliance. You were choosing Johanna, of course, and Finnick already had his mind made up on his pick.
Making his way over to you, he tossed you something that you swiftly caught before sitting down on the armchair across from the sofa you were sitting on. You looked down, opening your hand to see a golden pendant, a medallion with a rose in the middle.
You raised a brow. This wasn’t a present. “A rose?”
“They’re a Capitol favourite.” Precisely why you hated them.
“Alright, and why are you giving it to me?”
Finnick brought his wrist up, showing you a golden bracelet made of vines while wiggling his fingers. “They’re gifts,” he told you, “from Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy.”
You were familiar with both people. Effie Trinket was crazy, but that wasn’t the dominant thought on your mind. “Gifts for what?”
He answered, “They’ve brokered an alliance with us on behalf of Katniss and Peeta.” At that, you groaned, but Finnick readily cut you off. “This will be good for us, Y/N.”
“They’re brand new to this,” you countered. Sure, you liked the spark that the Girl on Fire had, and Peeta was quite the catch, but they only won a year ago. The Careers would be a better pick, even though you didn’t exactly like them, either.
“Yes, but they’re good; you’ve seen them. And the Capitol’s gonna love it, the two pairs of lovers together. C’mon, you know all this.” You did. You knew that this was one of the best avenues to take, but something in you was against it.
Maybe it was just that Peeta reminded you of the man you were in love with, and Katniss reminded you of yourself. But right now, you had to remind yourself to think with your head, not your heart. You needed to disregard your feelings and do whatever it took to win this.
To you, winning didn’t mean surviving this. Winning meant that Finnick did.
So, with a sigh, you surrendered, agreeing to this little deal. “So, these accessories are, what? Bargaining chips?”
He smirked. “No, they’re symbols. Katniss and Peeta have theirs, too.”
You chuckled, shaking your head and mocking, “So we’re in a little golden alliance, then?”
“It appears so, darling.”
After a little more conversation, Finnick and you headed off to bed, even though neither of you could really sleep. You held each other, though, and so the insomnia was bearable. He told you to stow the necklace away, that you were saving the objects for The Games. Apparently, Katniss and Peeta still needed a little persuasion for this, especially the former.
She was smart not to trust you, but she was equally as naive for the same reason. If you wanted to, you could be judgemental all day, but you didn’t have the time for it, so your mind didn’t linger on the subject.
When you were waiting to be assessed the next day with the rest of the tributes, your mind didn’t really linger on anything. You felt numb: not pleased, not sad, just numb. If you could pin-point an emotion, it had to be anger, but that feeling hadn’t left you since your first Games.
Finnick, on the other hand, looked no different, maybe even a little amused by the tension in the room, too amused for somebody who had to go back to the arena. But Finnick was always one to look a challenge into the eye and, instead of looking away, give it a wink. That was his persona while you were here, in the Capitol, so you’d let him indulge in it if that’s what made him feel better.
You’d do anything for him, even if he didn’t love you back.
He went into the room first. You didn’t know exactly what he was gonna do, but you knew that you were all basically doing the same thing. Plutarch Heavensbee may have been new, but even he knew who you all were. You’ve all shown your skills already, been here already, danced this dance already.
The song was getting old.
You were all giving your own personal fuck you to the Capitol.
When Finnick walked out, he flashed you a smirk that almost made you laugh. You stifled a smile as you walked into the room yourself, but it was quickly wiped off your face as memories played in your head like a movie.
You remembered the first time you did this, coming in and saying your name, scared out of your mind but ready to win, ready to impress the sponsors.
Now, you didn’t have to say your name. You caught their attention as soon as you walked in. You were the Princess. You needed no introduction.
It was funny, though, how that imaginary crown couldn’t save you from this.
The thought of your inevitable death was what fuelled you. You were known for your abilities with a sword, but that wasn’t what you reached for. You reached for the jug of gasoline and a lighter, immediately opening it and pouring in a circle in the middle of the room before stepping into it.
Then you looked right up at all of them and their confused faces, and threw the open lighter to the liquid in front of you, igniting a circle of fire around you.
You stared right at the head Gamemaker as you did it, expressionless. His expression told you that he got the message, or at least your hostility.
You would burn this place to the ground if you had to, even if you got burned while doing it.
When the flames got smaller, you turned and stepped over them, walking out of the room without another glance or word to the Capitol mutts. As far as you were concerned, they weren’t worth your time—you were running out of that, anyways.
Once the assessments were over, all any of you had time to do was get ready for the show. Caesar wasn’t exactly a face you wanted to see right now. Maybe he saw his enthusiasm as a way of “calming the tributes down,” but it was really just his lack of empathy. You didn’t need him cheering and practically gossiping about your death before it happened.
As much as the people in the Capitol liked to think of these Games as games, they weren’t. They were your lives. But you really could spend days obsessing over it, days that you didn’t have.
It was time to dance, and there was nothing you did better.
You were backstage, standing with Finnick and Johanna, waiting your turns. Cinna had made you very pretty. He was good at what he did.
You were wearing a dark blue dress with wide straps tied into blue bows at your shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The bottom half was pretty fitted, but it was covered by a sparkly, golden, A-line, hoop petticoat made of the same material as your top from the parade, gridded with holes like before. And of course, your crown sat atop your head—Cinna insisted.
He really wanted to nail the whole Princess thing, milk it for all it was worth. And you let him, because his designs were great. Part of you wished you could’ve gotten more into fashion; now you’d never get the chance to.
You couldn’t blame Katniss for being so stand-offish. You’d be intimidated, too, if you were new to the club, watching from the sidelines. You, Finnick, and Johanna didn’t really seem all too approachable right now, either, even the ever so charming Odair. They were exchanging jokes and laughing at the interviews, mocking them, while you were rather stoic, observing the interviews watchfully.
Cashmere and Gloss went first, of course. They did theirs together since they were brother and sister. It was odd to you, how two siblings managed to get reaped together out of all the victors district 1 had, but you were paying more attention to the act they were putting on.
Casmere was sobbing. She’s a much better killer than she is an actor, you thought, but the people in the audience clearly bought it. You’d give her credit, though; you were all trying your best to get this thing cancelled, even if that was highly unlikely.
Next came the two crazy Careers who made Gloss’ acting look world class. Then Beetee went on stage, using logic as a tactic rather than emotion. Smart, but logic wouldn’t sway President Snow’s wishes. The Capitol sent innocent kids off to die every year in a televised event to pay for something that happened years before any of them were born—logic was obviously not their strong suit.
Wiress went next, and that’s basically when you tuned out. She was pretty out of it, not really saying much. Finnick was going after her. That’s what occupied your thoughts.
“Hey, you alright?” Your were snapped out of your daze by the very man you were thinking about, as if he was reading your mind. Those blue eyes that you loved so much stared down at you, concern swimming through them.
Those ocean eyes. You could drown in them.
You cleared your throat, straightening your shoulders. “Yeah, I’m good.” He continued to stare down at you like he was completely unconvinced, but before he could say anything, they were calling his name.
He cursed under his breath then placed a soft kiss on your temple before having to walk out on stage, that famous smirk on his face. He was so good at that, at going from hard to soft so easily, cursing to kissing you.
He was good. He was real good, and he was a much better actor than any other tribute here. He was so good that he could make even you believe his performance.
You watched them from the TV backstage. “Finnick,” Caesar started. “As I recall, the last time we spoke, it was with your other half, who is here today.” The crowd cheered.
Finn nodded, smiling tensely, which you were sure he did on purpose. “That’s right.”
“You and the Princess have so graciously shared your love with us, and we have fallen in love with you both, perhaps as much as you love each other.” You and Johanna simultaneously rolled your eyes. Finnick, though, smiled to the cheering audience, mouthing thank you’s that no doubt made them swoon. “None of us know how to deal with the fact that you are both going into The Games- I certainly haven’t come to terms with it. Tell us, how are you dealing with this?”
You scoffed. If there was something the people of the Capitol liked to do, it was pretending that your tragedy was their own. They didn’t know even half of your pain, any of yours.
Caesar practically shoved the microphone in Finnick’s face. He looked down, like he was thinking, but you knew he probably had this bit down pat already. “If I’m being honest, neither Y/N nor I have come to terms with it, either.” He now looked right to the camera. “What I do know is that I will do whatever it takes to protect the woman I love.” The crowd cooed as you looked straight at the TV, as if Finnick was staring into your eyes. “And if I… if I die in that arena, then my last thought will be of her lips… and how lucky I was to have met her and have had the opportunity to give her my heart.”
The crowd went wild and Caesar said something in response, but you couldn’t hear it. You were stuck staring into Finnick’s eyes, the eyes you fell in love with. Oh, he was so good. He could dance the dance so much better than you. Because everything he said, he almost made you believe that he meant it.
You blinked the tears in your eyes away when Johanna shook you, telling you they were about to announce your name. You put the mask back on, and it was your love for Finnick that made you do it. You were doing this for him.
An exhale left your lips as you waited for your cue. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, as our Prince exits, I have the honour of welcoming his counterpart to the stage. The winner of the 67th Hunger Games. The Princess of Panem. Y/N Y/L/N!”
The doors you stood behind opened and you walked onto the stage, a stellar smile on your face as you waved to the roaring crowd. You just had to play the role, and everything would be fine.
When the cheers died down, Caesar gave you a sympathetic look, or at least a look that he thought was sympathetic. “Now, Y/N, it is lovely to see you. You look stunning.”
“Thank you, Caesar. It’s always wonderful to see you. I just wish it was under different circumstances.” You glanced to the crowd, catching their pity. For once, that was the exact emotion you wished to inspire.
“Yes, I think I speak for us all when I say that this is not easy.” You tightly smiled, even though you really just wanted to flip him off. “We just spoke to Finnick, he has been quite expressive these past few days in the Capitol, but you, Y/N, you have not been as revealing. Please, we’d like to know what’s been on your mind.”
If Caesar really heard what was on your mind, then he’d be appalled. That wasn’t your goal, even though you’d greatly enjoy that. Instead, you had a different play.
The audience was very quiet in anticipation of your response. You sighed, keeping the tired smile. “I, um… I’ve had a lot on my mind, really. Finnick and I, we thought we had more time, time to get married and even have kids, but now it’s like that time has just been… stolen from us.” Collective awes resounded throughout the crowd as Caesar brought his other hand to his chest, like your words moved him. “It’s- it’s just not fair, simple as that. But I love him, and that love will survive, even if I don’t.”
The audience let their dismay be known while Caesar shook his head. “Oh, my dear, I have seen your love- we all have, and I know that it will never die.” You nodded in agreement, listening to everyone else agree with you.
The acting was easier than you thought it’d be. Maybe that was because it wasn’t all acting, not for you. You knew your role, and you knew it well, but your love for Finnick was not something you had to fake. It was perhaps one of the only real things you had left.
“Now, we are all in for an emotional night, so I’d just like to lighten the mood a little- is that alright?” You nodded again, though you wondered how he would’ve reacted if you didn’t. “Okay, now we all saw your display at the parade- isn’t that right, everyone?” He paused, letting them applaud. “Yes, it was magnificent. Would I be right in assuming that you have something similar planned tonight?”
“Oh, you’d be correct,” you responded, flashing a grin at the whooping crowd.
“Please, please.” He stepped back. “Go right ahead.”
You glanced at Cinna sitting front row before pressing the button of the device he gave you. The golden petticoat then went up in flames, seemingly “ejecting” the skirt of your dress, sending it from above your knees to your ankles as it went from skin-tight to flowy. The very bottom faded into a teal colour, like the sea.
The crowd’s cheers got louder than you thought possible. Caesar wowed, then raised his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Princess of Panem!” You gave the crowd one last wave before making your way up the stairs to stand with the rest of the victors.
You were standing next to Finnick by the time the next tribute was called out and the attention was on them. To your surprise, he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. But what really surprised you was the slight tremble you felt.
You looked up at him to see him already staring down at you. His mask fell a little, and instead of the at-ease Finnick you just saw, you were looking at a much more serious, stern version. You were confused by what could’ve brought this on, but then he leant down slightly, whispering in your ear, “I told you. I’m not letting you die.” When he pulled away, he didn’t look any less serious.
Oh, what a great liar he could be. There he was, making you believe in things that couldn’t possibly be true. You were going to die. You knew that, and you’d accepted it already. But Finnick hadn’t accepted it at all. He looked like he was believing his own lie.
You don’t know why this had shaken him so badly. Maybe he felt obligated to you, maybe he felt bad for you, but whatever it was, you weren’t gonna make it worse.
You could be a good actor, too.
For him.
You nodded, whispering back, “I know.” This looked to have calmed him down a little. He kissed the side of your head, and then the mask was back up. He kept his tight hold on your hand, and you let him.
You never know when it’d be the last time you held hands, and so you were gonna enjoy this while it lasted.
Even though this was an “emotional night,” as Caesar had dubbed it, you still got satisfaction out of everything the victors were pulling. When Johanna came on stage, she had a totally different approach than all of your sad acts and Beetee’s logic: she said what you all really wanted to say, giving the Capitol a loud fuck you.
You and Finnick had to stop yourselves from laughing amidst your shock. Caesar definitely wasn’t expecting that. You knew Snow definitely wasn’t expecting that, either. You hoped he was watching this right now, and you hoped that all of Panem could feel your outrage.
But if you were surprised by anything, it was the so called star-crossed lovers from district 12. Katniss’ wedding dress was a nice touch; she could’ve convinced even you that they were in love, if you didn’t know any better.
You weren’t the only one with a message to send to the Capitol with your attire. She spun around and her white dress was engulfed in flames, transforming into a midnight blue dress similar to yours. And when she lifted her arms, wings were revealed, and the smile on your lips widened.
“It’s a bird,” Caesar stammered in awe. “It’s like, a- it’s got feathers- it’s a bird- like a-”
You murmured at the same time as Katniss spoke up, “Like a Mockingjay.” You looked up to Finnick, seeing him already smirking. Everdeen was a lot ballsier than you thought.
“Your stylist certainly has outdone himself this time, hasn’t he? Bestowing not one, but two just astonishing looks upon us! What theatricality.” The attention was drawn to your designer. “Cinna! Take a bow.”
You were growing to like this man more and more, knowing that the Capitol must have hated him.
When the cheers died down and Katniss came and joined you all, the event was almost over with just Peeta left. You remembered the advice you gave him; you had high hopes for him, and he did not disappoint.
He claimed he and Katniss had a secret wedding, reeled them all in, and then he added the cherry on top. “You know, Katniss and I, we’ve been luckier than most. And I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…” he paused, choking up, “i-if, if it weren’t… if…”
“If it weren’t for what? What, Peeta?”
“If it weren’t for the baby.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
The audience clamoured. You slapped a hand over your mouth to hide the upturn of your lips, feigning horror. Finnick was in the same boat, stifling a laugh.
Golden boy was smarter than he got credit for.
People in the audience stood up, shouting while Caesar tried to calm them down. They were calling for The Games to be stopped, exactly what you’d been trying to achieve all night. Caesar whispered something to Peeta away from the microphone, and he walked up the stairs to the rest of you, hugging his apparent wife.
Then suddenly, you were nudged by the person next to you, looking down to see their hand outstretched. You quickly realized what was going on and grabbed it. And then amidst all the fury, you brought your hands up together. Yes, they wanted you to kill each other, but you were all united in the same fight first.
It became obvious that Caesar couldn’t contain the crowd’s indignation any longer, so the anthem played, increasing in volume to try and drown them out, but your actions were still so much louder than words.
That’s when the lights cut out.
But it would be a lot harder for the Capitol to snuff out the spark you all lit.
While you all did your best, your efforts appeared to be futile. Snow wasn’t against killing children, so you supposed that you all should’ve known better than to think that he’d cancel The Games for Everdeen’s baby.
However, it wasn’t completely useless. You had the public’s support. Sponsors wouldn’t be hard to get, so at least that was something. But all in all, The Games were still happening. One winner. Twenty-three of you would be dead, and you were going to be one of them.
Your last Games, you were relentless, selling your soul to stay alive. And you were gonna do it all over again, but this time, your objective wasn’t staying alive at all. It was making sure Finnick could make it home to Annie.
Lying there in Finnick’s arms that night for what could possibly be the last time, you realized that you would die without ever having been loved by someone. You were with Finnick, and you loved him, but he didn’t love you back.
These last few days, you had been consumed by fire, knowing that you would burn everything down if it meant your lover would be safe, but it was like it was just hitting you that you’d been warming yourself up with a flame that wasn’t ever really yours.
You knew without a doubt that Finnick Odair was your soulmate.
But you weren’t his.
Tears pooled into your eyes at the thought, and so you quickly buried your head into his chest before a panic attack could came on. You calmed down to the sound of his heartbeat, the heartbeat that you personally would make sure didn’t stop until he was old and his hair was grey.
The next day was a blur between the hovercraft, having the trackers injected into you, and then being separated from Finnick. The only thing you really could remember was how he kissed your cheek before he left.
And then you were in the tube, rising up into the arena. You couldn’t get a good look at it. Every time you blinked, your Games flashed before your eyes. Sun, cold, dirt, blood, screaming, murder.
You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as the announcer counted down. Pull yourself together, Y/N, you thought.
And then The Games begun.
Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade
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