#just a few nice winter pictures | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evilmenenjoyer · 5 months ago

Text

City of Love

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader

Summary: Months after winning the Squid Games, you receive an unwanted visit from the man who's been haunting you since the very beginning.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), drinking, sex in a public place, some murderous thoughts. Don't be fooled by the title, it's very much not a fluffy romantic fic lol.

The City of Love.

At least, that's what everyone calls it. It felt like the place to be after all the horrors you had endured in the past year – horrors you don't dare to say a word about to another soul. Friends and acquaintances have told you about how great it is, how beautiful, how magical. About how just a few days here will heal any woes in your heart.

Of course, it didn't work. Now you're just depressed in Paris.

It's not all bad. The Eiffel tower looks just as pretty as it does in pictures, especially late at night when it lights up and sparkles. The historic architecture and cobblestone streets are a nice break from the modern buildings you're used to from Seoul, so different it almost erases the memories sometimes. Never for too long. Just when you think you're slipping back into something resembling normalcy, they return in your nightmares in the shape of blood, pink jumpsuits and children’s games.

This afternoon, it takes the shape of a ghost – a tall, handsome man, whose face you’ve only ever seen in dreams and in the subway lines of Seoul.

All color drains from your face in a matter of seconds, all that pink winter flush.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He smiles, like you're an old friend. It nearly throws you off your balance by how natural it looks, like he's not forcing it.

“Beautiful city, isn't it? Especially at this time of the year.”

This can't be happening. The whole reason you left South Korea was to put distance between yourself and those horrific games, and all the people associated with them. To just run into one right here, in a different continent, mere months after your victory; it makes you feel like you're about to pass out.

You stand up from your seat and walk right out of the patisserie, leaving your ridiculously overpriced hot chocolate nearly untouched on the table.

You knew, somehow, that he would follow you, but you still prayed he wouldn’t. That it had been your imagination, or the PTSD, or anything other than the Salesman himself crossing paths with you in Paris.

“I expected a warmer welcome,” a voice behind you says, making you pause your stroll down the street. Fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – you still haven’t completely lost track of what's real and what's not, and you can tell that voice is real, clear as day. He’s real and here and that terrifies you to your very core.

Turning around to face him, you hate how he still looks every bit as infuriatingly handsome as he did the first time you saw him.

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, your voice shaky and not nearly as incisive ad you’d like it to be.

“Visiting,” he replies. He turns to gaze at the scenery around you. In your hurry to get away from him, you didn't even realize you ended up at the Pont Neuf, the old bridge crossing the Seine River. Dusk settles around the two of you, the purple-ish color of the sky reflected on the river, almost too pretty for this situation. “Like I said, France is quite nice during the winter.”

You scoff. “You expect me to believe it's just a big coincidence that you and I ended up in the same place, five thousand miles away from home, at the same time?”

“Small world, isn't it?”

“I’m serious. I did everything you people wanted. I beat the games, I took the money and I kept my mouth shut. You were supposed to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Did what we wanted?” Something in his smile changes, shifts from warmth to something more sinister. “We never forced you to do anything. Remember that. You brought whatever happened on yourself.”

Cold air rushes over you, drawing a shiver out of you. It's not snowing yet, but it start might soon. It's hard to remember you were once excited for it.

He reaches out, ignoring the warnings in your eyes as he runs a finger over the smooth fabric of your scarf, then wraps it around your neck one more time. It’s almost a tender gesture, if he was someone else entirely. It should have you flinching, or slapping his hand away. Instead, it only makes you freeze in your spot.

“Yves Saint Laurent,” he notes. “I see you’ve been making good use of that money.”

It doesn't sound accusatory, but it feels like it anyway. Even after months, it still feels wrong to use the money, despite all the literal blood, sweat and tears it took to get it. Like you should be gathering it all in a pile and setting fire to it in protest. But what would that change? Why shouldn't you be allowed to use it to build a new life for yourself?

So you stayed in five star hotels. So you bought a few more pairs of Louboutin shoes than necessary. Therapy was out of the question, so this was the next best thing you could come up with for the time being. Best-case scenario, a therapist would think you're a nutcase. Worst case, they’d turn you in to the authorities for confessing to multiple murders you had committed at the Squid Games. You didn’t want to take the risk.

“I thought that was the idea,” you say. The Salesman’s hands are still on the fabric, merely touching it, but that doesn't stop your mind from picturing him gripping it, pulling on it until you suffocate in the garment you bought as some empty, mediocre sign of victory.

“It suits you.” He lets his hands fall with no damage to your throat or to your respiratory system. “Much better than those knock-offs you used to wear.”

It disturbs you that he even remembers that. As far as you know, you were only one of the hundreds of people who had played ddakji with him at the subway station. You remembered every second of it, replayed it in your mind over and over again, but there was nothing particularly memorable about you back then. You lost most rounds. You hoped against hope that he would ask you out, even after your cheek was red and stinging.

That was a different version of you. One that smiled more, even with all the hardships in your life. One that was too naive to realize she was selling her soul to the devil from that very first game of ddakji.

“Since the city brought us together,” the Salesman says, “I’d like to buy you a drink.”

It would be impossible to keep the surprise from your face if you’d tried. Those are words you would've loved to hear all those months ago, and now that he says them, you can barely draw enough air into your lungs to tell him to fuck off.

“Why? So you can kill me the second we’re off the street?”

He chuckles, like he finds your confusion amusing. “Why would I do that?”

“Isn't that why you're here?” Why else would it be, after all? Maybe it's part of their sick games; to give one person the illusion of victory, let them enjoy the money for a few months, then go after them and kill them. Or worse, pull them back in.

“If I wanted to kill you, I could do it anywhere.”

You suppose there's no arguing with that, but you're not sure if it makes you feel better. Good news: you're still breathing. Bad news: you're still breathing only until he allows you to.

“You still didn't tell me why you came after me, then,” you point out.

“Let's have a drink, and I’ll tell you.”

You must be insane for even considering this. The naive girl that had first seen him in the subway, coming home late at night from work, would be enthusiastically urging you to go. You’re supposed to know better than her.

“One drink,” you say. “Then you go home and never contact me again.”

His smile widens. “I know a nice place.”

He brings you to a piano bar just a few blocks away from the bridge. It's a fancy place, the kind that makes you feel underdressed even in your designer clothes. He blends right in – not only because of the sleek, tailored suit, but because of his demeanor, the natural elegance with which he carries himself.

Not for the first time, you wonder if he was born into wealth, or if he was ever like you. Someone who had to claw his way out of poverty. You can't picture it, but there's so much you don't know about him. It's what makes him so scary and confusing to you, but also so damn intriguing.

He orders for you before you have the chance to open your mouth. Dom Pérignon, two glasses. You raise your eyebrows once the waiter walks away.

“Are we celebrating something?”

“Your victory.”

The response makes your stomach drop. “I don't want to celebrate that.” Not with anyone, but especially not with him.

He gives a small shrug. “Just a special occasion, then.”

The dimmed, warm lights of the bar make the place feel so intimate, almost romantic in a sense. You don't know what to make of it, so you force yourself to look away from him, even when you can still feel his stare unflinching on you. Luckily, the waiter shows up just in time, pouring you both glasses of the bubbly drink and leaving the bottle in a bucket on the table.

You turn back to the Salesman, glaring at him. “I said one drink, not one bottle.”

“You never specified,” he replies, fake innocence in his eyes. “Gives us more time to catch up. Maybe even play a game, for old time’s sake.”

The mere mention of a game makes you want to run away, to lock yourself in the restroom and refuse to come out. It has to be intentional; he has to know what kinds of things would be running through your head, after everything you’d gone through. You take a long gulp of the champagne, nearly done with the entire glass in one go. You can't let him get to you like this. You do your best to look unbothered.

“Do you walk around with ddakji tiles everywhere?” you ask. “Just in case you find someone who wants to play?”

That earns a soft laugh out of him. “No, not ddakji.”

He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looks like a standard deck of cards.

“Have you ever played blackjack?”

You have, but hesitation is written all over your features. “What if I don't want to play?”

“Do you think I’d force you?” he asks, like you're a fool for even thinking so. “Like I said, you were never forced to do anything. It's your choice.” He sips his own champagne in a much classier, more contained way than you. Like he's happy to draw this out for hours, rather than wanting this night to be over as soon as possible. “But you’ve beaten much harder games before. This should be nothing for our big victor, right?”

There's a challenge in his voice, in his eyes. You should know better than to fall for it. So why is there a part of you that still feels like you have a point to prove? That feels like, with a little bit of luck and skill, you can finally beat this man at his own game?

“Fine.” You cross your arms over the table. “Let’s do this.”

Pleased with your answer, he shuffles the cards in his hands. You watch him, almost as mesmerized as you’d been watching him play ddakji at the subway station. It's so hard not to get lost in it, but you refuse to look away in shyness and hesitation again, keeping your eyes on him as you sip the rest of the champagne in your glass.

He refills it before placing four cards on the table: two facing upwards for you, one face-down and one face-up for himself, the dealer.

The rules are simple: your cards all together need to get as close to 21 without going over. Whichever one of you gets the closest wins the round. You have a nine and a four, totaling thirteen. The Salesman has a five, and a card that's invisible for you.

“Hit me,” you say, figuring your odds can't be too bad.

He places one more card to your pile: a seven. Twenty in total. Your heart speeds up inside your chest, already triumphant even before the end.

He reveals all his cards to you: the five you’ve already seen, a nine, and a three. Seventeen. Your smile widens, relief washing over you like you’d just escaped a near-death experience. You don't think beating a game, no matter the kind, will ever not feel like this again.

“Not bad,” he compliments. He reaches into another pocket for his wallet, drawing a hundred euro note and pushing it towards you on the table.

You just stare at it with an eyebrow raised, baffled and, frankly, a bit offended. With the tip of your index finger, you push the bill back to him.

“Do you really think I still need your money?”

“It's just symbolic,” he argues, but still tucks the money back into his wallet. “Of course, we can bet on other things too, if you’d prefer.”

“What kind of things?”

“Whatever you want. You won.”

“Whatever I want?” A grin stretches across your lips as you lean forward on the table. “Like a dare?”

He leans forward as well, like he wants to meet you in the middle. His eyes never leave yours. “Like a dare.”

You wonder just how far he’d take this game, if he would do something outrageous or serious just because you told him to. Maybe not. But even this is the kind of power that you never, ever imagined you would have over this man.

“Okay. Let me see your wallet.”

He hands it over without a fight. You rummage through all of it, ignoring all the cash and instead looking for something else, anything personal. But there's nothing. No family photos, no old receipts, not even a condom tucked inside one of the pockets. At last you find his ID license, the name Park Ha-Joon listed beside a smiling picture of him that looks so normal you almost want to laugh.

“It's not your real name, is it?”

He smiles. “Smart girl.”

“It was worth a shot.” You close the wallet and hand it back to him.

He shuffles the cards, hands them over again. Seven and six. You tap the cards in a sign for him to hit you with one more.

“Do you really want to know why I came to see you?”

Your eyes snap in his direction, not even looking at the new card that’s placed in front of you.

“I thought you’d be one of the first to die in a place like that.” He looks focused on the game as he talks, “When I found out you were the winner, I wanted to see it for myself.”

Your throat tightens, making it hard to draw in my next breath. You look around yourself, as if trying to make sure you're really here and not at that disturbing colorful scenario, or at the bunk beds in the dorm. Still the piano bar. Warm lights, soft chatter of conversation, piano notes ringing through the air. The mental image of that place still doesn't vanish from your mind.

“See what, exactly?” you ask, even though you know it would be better not to.

“If you truly earned it, or if you’re just one more piece of trash who got lucky, like all the others before you.”

Your hand must twitch, an involuntary movement you're not even aware of, and the Salesman places another card to your pile. You look down at it in horror, realizing all the cards together total to twenty-three.

“I didn't say hit me,” you protest.

“You tapped. You know that's the sign.” He looks over the cards again, as if just noticing the source of your distress instead of directly causing it. “Too bad.”

It's not fair, and you both know it, but you doubt pointing it out will make a difference. You bite your tongue around any words as well as the lump that's formed in your throat, tears trying to rush to the surface. Your gaze meets his and holds it.

“Are you going to slap me?”

He’s still for a moment, considering it. It's one thing to hit you in the face in a mostly-empty subway station late at night, and another entirely to do it in this sophisticated bar, with all these people around as witnesses. Still, you don't doubt that he would do it. You hold yourself back from flinching when his hand comes out, bracing yourself for the impact.

It never comes. Instead, his hands merely cup your cheeks, tilting your face to face him fully. He looks at you like he's studying you, his expression unreadable.

“Not now. I want something else,” he says. “A round of shots.”

His grip on your face is firm, but he runs the pad of his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone, like wiping away a teardrop that never fell. A gesture that can only be described as affectionate, and it's messing with your head way more than the slaps on the face did.

You nod.

He holds on for just a second too long before he lets you go. He orders the shots to the waiter – you pay no attention to the brand, or even the type of booze –, and you don't say another word until after they're placed in front of you on the table, small glasses so clean they gleam under the light.

“I crawled my way out of that hell,” you tell him. “You have no idea what I had to do to survive. You don't get to sit here and tell me I didn't fucking earn it.”

He looks more amused than anything. “To kill for necessity, anyone can do. It doesn't make you as special as you think it does.” He nods towards the shot on the table, reaching for his own. “Drink.”

You count one, two, three in your head before throwing the shot back, unable to suppress a grimace when the drink comes down your throat like liquid fire.

“Why do you wanna get me drunk so bad?”

He empties his shot glass as well. “Drinking together ensures none of us has an advantage.” He picks up the deck of cards again, before you ever have the chance to tell him you’ve had enough of this game. The words die down in your throat.

One more round. Your cards add up to seventeen.

It’s too risky to ask for one more card; anything higher than four would mean an instant loss. Only then you notice the sweat under your palms, the rush in your ears overpowering the piano music in the background. You force yourself to take a deep breath, to remember that your life is not on the line anymore and losing doesn't mean certain death, even though it feels like it.

He reveals his cards. Eighteen.

“Fuck.”

He seems pleased with himself, accessing you as you brace yourself for whatever he has in mind for you now.

“Come a little closer,” he orders.

You frown, but you find yourself obeying without much questioning, getting up from your chair to slide to the seat next to him on the booth.

He pours you both more Dom Pérignon, and this time he doesn't have to tell you to drink. You focus on the way the bubbles dance inside your mouth, if only to have something to distract yourself from his proximity, from the faint smell of his cologne or from the fact he still hasn't told you what he wants from you for losing this round

His hand lands on your thigh.

You jump in surprise, and his hand tightens its grip there, digging into your skin and keeping you in your seat. Your eyes widen and search for his, a question clear in them.

With his free hand, the Salesman pushes the cards in your direction. “You’ll be the dealer now,” he says, “and for each time you lose, I get to keep my hands on you for one more round.”

Say no, you tell yourself. Say something. A better, stronger woman would throw the champagne in the glass on his face and walk right out of this bar. Instead, you find yourself still as a statue, a sudden rush of warmth overflowing your senses – first, it rises to your face, coloring your cheeks red, then it travels lower to the pit of your stomach and down right into the space between your legs.

You can’t even tell if it’s the alcohol, spreading through your bloodstream and bringing a buzzing sensation to your head that’s not all unpleasant, or the fact you haven’t been touched like this in what feels like forever, or simply the man sitting next to you. How many times had you fantasized about this, until you realized that he was the catalyst of your ruin?

Maybe even a few times after that.

You take the deck of cards. He grins like he knew you would, like a master pleased with a dog following his command. You want to wipe that look off his face, but you can barely concentrate enough to properly shuffle the cards.

If you felt like you were fighting for your life before, it’s nothing compared to right now. The hand doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch until the very final moments of the round, when you realize the two of you are tied. A fingertip slides up the fabric of your stockings until it stops at your knee, your skin erupting in goosebumps following the movement. Your heart beats so hard inside your chest you can barely hear the chatter of people around you as the bar fills in with people.

You lose the next round, and the next, and the one after that. You can’t even tell if you’re doing it on purpose anymore.

With each passing minute that you don’t push him away, that you allow him to test and cross your boundaries, he gets more daring, drawing shapes in the perimeter of your leg and curling into your inner thigh. Your chest rises with a breath that comes tumbling out, the sound of it way too close to a whimper for your liking.

You can tell he notices it instantly, observant and apparently fluent in your body language like he’s spent years of his life studying it. He takes the opportunity to let his hand wander under your skirt, to the spots it hadn’t covered yet.

That’s enough. You need to win this next round.

It’s like, for once, God listens to your prayers. Your cards add up to an even, perfect twenty-one to his nineteen.

He retrieves his hand as if on cue. You thought you would be gasping in relief, but what comes out instead is a pitiful, almost desperate don’t.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t as in stop?” he asks. “Or as in don’t stop?”

Your body answers the question for him before your mind can even process what happened, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the spot where it was. Your skin comes ablaze the second he touches you again, like his touch is charged with electricity.

“Did you know,” you can feel his breath so close to you when he speaks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “that you were the first person who ever challenged me to play ddakji at the subway? Usually it’s the other way around. Nobody but you ever made the first move.”

It’s hard to concentrate on his words like this, with his body leaning into yours and his hand that still touches you under the table and– whoa, that is not your thigh. The solid press against your core makes your whole body twitch, but you don’t jerk away. You try to focus on the memory.

“I didn’t give a fuck about the game,” you reveal. “I just wanted you to notice me.”

“I know.” He draws small, precise circles over you. “Do you ever think about how I would’ve left you alone otherwise?”

Of course you do, more than you would ever admit. But having him confirm it hurts. It’s bad enough to know you’re the one who caused all the trauma you’ve been through since meeting him, that you could’ve just carried on with your life, shitty as it as, if only you weren’t a foolish girl with a crush on a stranger. But to be in his arms right now, your head falling over his shoulder and your lips releasing a tiny whimper; it just makes it all the more fucked up.

“Was it worth it?”

The smile on your lips is devoid of any humor. “Never.”

“Let me prove to you that it was.”

Just like that, everything stops. He scoots away from you in the booth and stands up, bringing all the heat with him aside from the faint lingering warmth on your face. He leaves a few bills over the table, enough for the entire tab, and walks away.

He doesn’t head towards the front door, instead making his way to the opposite direction. You watch him, confused, for a few moments before you trail after him, past the kitchen and the restrooms until you see the red glow of an exit sign.

A chilly breeze rushes over you the second you step outside, and you expect to see him walking into the dark narrow street. But he’s waiting for you, leaning against the brick wall behind him. He raises his eyebrows in that same condescending way he’s done all night, daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate for even a second longer. You grab a fistful of his impeccable suit jacket and pull him closer, crashing your lips together.

From the start, it’s not sweet or gentle. He digs his fingers into your hips hard enough to bruise, wasting no time before he lifts you up into the air and pins you against the wall. You gasp into his mouth, parting your lips and practically begging his tongue inside. Your legs part almost in unison, allowing him to settle between them and effectively trap you, his larger frame blocking any exit.

As if you would dream to get away.

In one swift movement, he reaches between your legs and rips at the fabric of your stockings, the sound echoing through the empty street. You’re already making quick work of his belt; or trying to, frustrated by your lack of mobility from his position. He doesn’t seem willing to let you go, so he does it himself instead, pulling his pants down just enough to free himself from the confines of his underwear.

You’ve soaked through your panties in whatever time it took to play all those rounds of blackjack. It felt like it was drawn-out for hours, but you know it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes. He moans when he feels it, before he even pushes into you – a heavenly, otherworldly sound, one you want to hear again and again. You push your hips towards him, feeling yourself throb when he rubs his length over you, burning hot where skin meets even though everything around you is cold. He rewards you with another sound that you drink right in as you deepen the kiss, happy to never have your lips separate from each other ever again.

He pushes the fabric of your panties to the side and thrusts into you without a warning, drawing a strangled, sharp gasp from you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the invasion, setting up a punishing pace that pushes you against the wall hard with every thrust. You claw at his back, losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, helpless to stop it as he all but consumes you like this is his last chance to.

“Ah– fuck,” you have to break away from his lips to attempt to draw in some air, your breaths and sounds interrupted by the rhythmic, vicious snaps of his hips into yours. He takes the opportunity to tilt his head and follow the line of your jaw with his lips, to mouth kisses and graze his teeth over your throat.

Hands find their way under pieces of clothing, trying to cling to as much bare skin as they can. He does most of the work, still holding you up in the air with the help of the wall (you curl your toes just to test the waters, the ones on the foot closest to the ground, and they barely touch the pavement), bouncing you on his cock however he sees fit, and it’s embarrassing how close you are already just from this.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”

It’s intoxicating how vocal he is, all the grunts and moans he breathes into your neck, how it rips more sounds out of you than you would usually make. The street is completely silent save for the two of you, not another soul in sight. You could kill him right here and he would never see it coming. Gut him with the knife tucked away in your purse, leave him on the pavement gasping for his last breath. Who would catch you? You have enough money to run to yet another country, to give yourself a new identity and reinvent yourself as many times as you want.

The purse is on the floor where you’d carelessly let it fall, out of reach. Still you run your hands down over his bottom, feeling for any guns or weapons he may have tucked into the back of his waistband, or hidden in his pockets. There’s nothing, but you don’t have a lot of time to be disappointed about it before you’re coming with a high-pitched, broken shout, like your orgasm has taken you by surprise. He holds you up, squeezing you against the wall for support, the only thing stopping you from falling straight to the floor.

The Salesman follows right after, a stream of goods and fucks and your name falling from his lips as he spills deep into you. You wish you had it in you to be offended, to tell him off for it. But all you can think about is how much you wish you knew his name so you could shout it, gasp it, whisper it, for as long as he keeps holding you this tight.

#salesman x reader #the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader #gong yoo x reader #squid game x reader #the salesman x you #my fics

2K notes · View notes

howlingmod · 2 months ago

Note

elliot x reader where he's introducing them to his parents except reader is REALLY unsettling (as in two time levels of unsettling) elliots being a huge sap while reader just stares at his parents they fear for their dumbass son being murdered in his sleep but tough it out (barely) because they love him and he seems happy "me and the bad bitch i pulled with my autism" type dynamic

summary - elliot x reader, pre-forsaken, reader's associated with Something i will not clarify because it is a fun reference for Me. </3

misc - oh this is so cute i love aut4aut love .... accidentally focused on the reader and the parents more but just know you two are being stupid and giggling the whole time

-Elliot spoke so fondly of you to his parents. Everytime you were the subject, he'd go on excitedly about all the things you guys were up to, a cute gesture you'd done for him the other day, how you were working on something for your own family. Recently, he'd gone and visited your parents for the autumnal equinox, and he couldn't let the favor go unreturned, something you and his parents happily accepted.

-They were excited to meet you, happy to see the special someone who had made their boy such a happy man. He'd never shown them pictures of you, saying you were camera shy and didn't like sitting down for photos all too much, so they had no idea what to expect. They were only a little startled at the door.

-There wasn't anything extraordinarily alarming, you weren't actively on fire or immediately threatening, just a little ... odd. You had a wide-eyed look to you, one they'd initially taken as you being nervous but, confirmed by Elliot himself and the passing hours, seemed to just be a constant feature of your appearance. Neither of you were particularly dressed up, but you had both worn the sweaters that they'd sent you for Christmas the previous year, Elliot's warm red contrasting your deeper neutral starkly. (A detail which had brought a tear to his mother's eye, knowing you two had remembered and appreciated them ... she'd had to ask Elliot what you usually wore, wanting to make something that'd fit you well, she was touched to see her efforts weren't in vain.)

-You'd stuck you hand out to shake his father's hand a little earlier than he'd expected, almost as soon as the door had fallen open. A strange decision, sure, but he figured you may have come from a more formal, mannerly background, as your stilted, flat speech matched it.

"It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine!"

-Your hands were extraordinarily cold, grip a little tight. It was fall, that could explain the temperature and, again, you may just be more accustomed to formalities. It made sense, even if he was a little unnerved by how you seemed to stare through him. He wasn't going to make fun of you for being nervous, he understands! He probably wasn't much better meeting his wive's parents. Probably.

-As you all settled in at the dinner table, Elliot largely took over the conversation. Catching up his parents on everything that'd happened since he'd visited last and answering the usual 'how have you been?' type small talk. Not wanting to leave you out, his mother had turned her attention to you.

"How's your family doing, dear? Elliot told me the ... solstice, went well," she smiled, folding her hands on her lap.

"Equinox. The solstice is in a few weeks, for winter," you started, voice stiff, "My family's good. I missed them, Risio especially."

She'd flinched a little, internally wincing at the stiffness of your voice and the correction. She hardly wanted to make a bad impression, especially if she came off as careless. "Ah, my apologies. We've never celebrated the coming-and-goings of the season much. Risio is your...?"

"Dog. I found him when I was younger."

"Oh, you have a dog? Well, isn't that just adorable! Elliot always wanted one when he was a kid, we just never really had the time for one."

You'd smiled at that, a small little crack in the neutral expression you'd kept from the moment you came in, "He told me about that. Risio likes him too, he told me he was happy I found someone to support me in life."

She'd been about to say something else when she'd halted. 'Told me,' weren't you just talking about your dog? Maybe she got lost in the conversation. She looked over at her husband, meeting an equally confused expression. You didn't seem to notice, digging around in your bag for something.

"I have a photo of him, I meant to send you an email with it a while ago but um," you pulled a Polaroid from your bag, sliding it across the table to them, "you guys don't have one and the mail doesn't work."

"Do you mean you can't send anything from your house? I'm pretty sure Elliot sent us a card from there," his father spoke up, confused by your wording once more. You only shrugged.

"It doesn't work the same. He told me as much."

In the time that he'd asked that, his mother had already gone pale looking at the photo. It seemed normal enough, a little poor in quality but not everyone has the same ease of access. It looked like a living room, an older style of home given the short, stained carpeting and bay-and-bow window showing an equally dark lawn, illuminated only by a far off, orange streetlight. There were two taller figures, presumably your parents, but neither of their faces were in frame, neither was illuminated very well either, almost fading into the background. A much younger version of you was sat on the floor, one of the few easily visible figures. You had a wide smile on your face, one that was almost shared by the large dog you had your arms thrown around. It was a bulky, old looking husky, strangely peachy in the face.

"Wow," came his mother's breathless reply. One mimicked by her husband seconds later under his breath, decidedly more grim.

You seemed to frown for only a split second, a small twitch more than anything. "This doesn't really work either. I'm sorry."

His mother was quick to shoot up, waving her hand, "Oh, no no, don't worry about it dear. I'm ... how old is your dog, anyhow?"

You'd paused, looked down in thought for a few moments. "Um," you started, quieter than before, "I think ... maybe 50? Older? I don't know. He never really told me when he was born."

The two of them stopped at that, equally as lost in what to respond with.

"Hey mom, I think there might be smoke coming from the kitchen ..." Elliot spoke up, timidly breaking the silence.

-Safe to say, they were unsettled by your history, even more so by how regularly you conveyed it all as plain, normal facts of your life. His father had stopped Elliot a little later, asking if your parents knew about the whole 'talking dog' thing. Something which Elliot confirmed.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, no! They all seem to understand him, or something like that, at least ... I didn't hear him make a peep while I was over, so I'm not really sure. I mean, there was this one time where I woke up in the middle of the night and (Reader) was out in the living room and I thought they were talking to their Dad but it sounded a little weird so ..." Elliot trailed off, only shrugging a little in conclusion.

-The rest of the night they couldn't help but be unnerved. They didn't want to be rude but ... well, it was a little hard for them to accept. Elliot seemed happy at least, you talked with him the most, referencing inside jokes between the two of you freely. They had to be happy about that, any parent would be glad to know their child found someone that makes them Smile.

-Once the night came to an end, you'd all exchanged your goodbyes. Elliot leaning on you as you turned and walked out the door to your car. They'd waved you two off, sharing a look once you pulled out of the driveway onto the road.

"They seem sweet."

#it's a little obvious whoooopsie. giggles. sorry i was trying to think of le scary things that reader could be involved w and all i could #think of was the vibing/leaf retake its so fun. sorry for being a fan #elliot x reader #forsaken x reader #roblox x reader #mod writes

338 notes · View notes

whorekneecentral · 2 years ago

Text

Winter Wonderland

Toto Wolff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: toto would do anything for reader, some friendly teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a bit of an age gap (reader's late 20s/early 30s), handsy toto, the two of you are kinda drunk, daddy kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight edging, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Word Count: 1,772

Author's Note: this one goes out to all the dilf lovers.

merry smutmas series

Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.

Toto had one last work engagement to do this week before he's officially off for the holidays and it took him to London. So by extension, you made it to London as well.

Your husband had left you in the hotel, promising you that he'll be back in a few hours after doing his final work meeting before he was on holiday break.

When he returns, he finds you in the same spot he left you, on the couch. "Babe, have you not gotten up all day?"He asks, shrugging his coat off.

"I did, I ordered room service so I had to get it from the door," you tell him, eyes glued to the TV.

Toto laughs, making his way over to sit next to you. You lean into the man, his arms wrapped around you and you can still feel the chill on his skin despite him wearing a coat when he was outside. It takes him a second to realize that you weren't in your pyjamas, but you were dressed as if you were going out.

The man looks at you with raised eyebrows, there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I know that look, what are you up to?" He asked.

"Okay I know you're probably tired but we leave for home tomorrow and I really wanna go!"

"Go where?"

"Hyde park," you tell him, showing him the pictures of their winter wonderland on your phone. "I saw the ad already for their winter wonderland today and then I looked it up and I fell into a loophole, so now we have tickets." You smiled sweetly at him - if there was one thing more important to Toto than work, it was you and your happiness.

"Are you serious, y/n?"

"Yes, now come on," you get up, trying to pull him up. Toto huffs, "I have emails to answer." He reluctantly follows you to the door.

"The emails will still be here when you get back," you handed him his coat before putting your own on. "Let's go."

Toto drives, of course - not like he ever lets you drive anyways. The first half hour was just the two of you trying to find your way around, it was a lot more packed than you were expecting but to be fair it was a week until Christmas, so it was to be expected you suppose.

You grab his hand and pull him towards what seems to be a circus tent. Toto looks at you a bit unsure for a moment, "is this.. an actual circus?" He followed you in and his question was answered; it was.

He sits next to you in the back row, the two of you waiting for the show to start. "Are you 5? Why are we at the circus ?"

"I mean, in comparison to you, I basically am." You smiled and he chuckled, his hand in yours as you two watched the show.

He would never admit it to you but he enjoyed doing things like this with you, it was nice to see that you kept a bit of your childishness alive.

After the circus, you made your way around the park once more, taking a million photos and trying out all the games until Toto was lugging around a big bag with stuffed animals.

"Do you think that's enough?" He asks, walking towards the car. You shrugged, "I guess but I'm hungry now."

"Dinner then?" He suggests, nodding to the busy street. You're not, fingers interlocking with your husband as you walk down the street towards no actual destination in mind. You were just hoping to stumble upon a place that wasn't too busy.

And eventually you did, a little restaurant tucked away between all the madness. You and Toto sat at a table by the window, the table covered in junk food and a bottle of cheap wine.

"Did you have fun tonight ?" You asked your husband, popping a fry into your mouth. He shrugs, taking a sip of wine. You can't help but roll your eyes, "you totally did! Don't lie."

Toto laughs, a grin on his face. "Yeah, okay. I did have a little fun, but maybe next time find an indoor activity?"

"Nope," you popped the P, "as your wife, it's my job to make your life unnecessarily complicated, just for fun."

He rolls his eyes, taking some fries off your plate. "You'll be the death of me."

You two ended up topping off the bottle of wine, Toto pays the bill and his fingers interlock with yours as you walk back to the car. The streets have calmed by now, but there's a few people walking around on their way to wherever.

Your husband pulls you into his side, your arm wrapped around his torso as you make it back to the car. The man has you leaning on the hood, his cold hands cupping your cheeks before he kisses you. His hands wander and you blush, stopping him.

"Not here."

"Don't tell me you're getting shy on me." He kisses along your cheek, the tip of his nose cold as it rubs against your skin.

You giggled, giving him a slight shove off of you. "We're in the middle of the street, it's more like stopping you from getting arrested for public indecency."

He laughs, opening the car door for you and letting you get in. Toto's hand rests on your thigh the entire drive back to the hotel and he can barely keep his hands off of you to make it up to the room.

His lips on your neck, arms wrapped around you from behind, the two of you giggling as you attempt to open the door.

"It's not opening," you grumbled, trying to unlock the door.

Toto pulls on the handle a bit, pressing the key to it. "Finally," he says when the lock clicks, "let me unwrap my gift."

You giggled, rolling your eyes at your husband's cheesy use of the words, but you let him drag you into the room and drop you on the bed.

He's careful, even though he's drunk - his movements are exact as he undoes the buttons on your shirt, tossing it into the pile of clothes that's developing on the floor.

"Move your legs, baby." He whispers, moving them up to rest on the edge of the bed as he drops himself down onto his knees. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Toto drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy.

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the red lace that covered your cunt.

You smile, “I know. Wore it just for you, daddy." The name makes the man smile.

Toto can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the red lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more.

Two fingers pushing into you, he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much.

He's sick and twisted and pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers wiped on your inner thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

"I hate you," you grumbled, your husband smiles as he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "You love me."

"Sometimes."

He smiles, standing up to undo his pants. Toto pulls you back to the edge of the bed, one of your legs hitch on his hip as his hand wanders.

Your eyes fixed on his hand that was moving down your chest at the moment. Toto's lips follow his fingers, kissing and leaving little marks as he goes along his way. His tongue brushes over your nipple, your back arches involuntarily; your body betrays you.

Your eyes find his and his hand rubbing along your thigh before pulling you toward the edge of the bed a little more before he pushes into you. The other ankle is over his shoulder now.

He fucks you the way he knows you like it; rough.

You were a sight to see; back arched off the bed, hair sprawled out in perfect curls, eyes closed and your head tilted back, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the millionth time.

He’s never seen a prettiest sight.

He feels you clench around him, the hand on his shoulder digs in, your nails leaving behind their own set of marks. His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again.

“Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.

“C’mon pretty girl, want you to cum for me.” he says, knowing it won't be long more, especially not after him leaving you on the edge earlier.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me." He whispers, kissing you softly.

A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge. He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, he follows behind you.

It takes you a second to gather yourself and register that your husband has collapsed on top of you. Your hands rubbing over his back.

"You okay?" you asked him quietly and the man nodded, moving so you two could lay comfortably.

Your leg draped over his, his arm wrapped over your shoulder. You catch him staring at you and you smile, nodding. "What?"

"We should come to London every year."

"Yeah," you nod, resting your head on his chest. "I'd like that."

---

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#merry smutmas xoxo #toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut

2K notes · View notes

with-my-calamitous-love · 8 months ago

Text

YOUR HEART WAS GLASS, I DROPPED IT ❆

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you open the door for your warm, ex boyfriend katsuki.

part 2/2. i’m sorry tumblrs not letting me link anything atm :(

inspired by champagne problems

katsuki booked his flight home at night for a reason.

it was dark, meaning no one really would be out. he wanted to be alone and sit there in his hurt. he wasn’t sure what he hated more- the bustling crowds or silent sleepers. both of them had a clear absence of you.

the winter chill seeps into his bones as he waits outside your door. after the phone hangs up, we anxiously wonders if you’ll even answer it. its -26°, and he can only imagine your bundled up in there. its the place he left you standing before hoping on a plane and abandoning what he had with you.

he’s about to turn away, before he hears your voice. “get in here, it’s freezing.”

he immediately obliges, stepping into the familiar space. crimson eyes stare at you, noticing your different appearance. you’ve cut your hair and pierced your ears. theres an ache in his chest seeing you for the first time again. suddenly the apartment began to feel much warmer.

“your hair. its… shorter.” he awkwardly mutters like a teenage boy asking you to a dance.

“uh, yeah. i wanted a change.” you chuckle, no less uncomfortable than him.

he wants to take your hand, but he’s scared he’ll drop it again. your place was cozy, yet crestfallen. he remembered you told him you never particularly enjoyed living alone. you lead him to the living room. there, he sees your cats cuddling, slightly jealous of the companionship they share.

its here he notices that its still chilly, albeit not as cold as outside. he quickly clutches his hands around the warm cup of tea you bring him, taking in the mundane sounds of your apartment. leftovers on the stove, the dripping of the sink, and the soft snores of your feline companions.

“sorry, my heaters still broken.” you apologetically quip, sitting down next to him on the couch. katsuki mentally facepalms himself for that. he said he’d fix it for you before he left.

“yeah. guess i forgot about that.” he says, barely looking you in the eye. if he was gonna break up with you, leave you stranded and hop on a flight out of the country, you think the least he could do is make sure you stayed warm- but no.

“why didn’t you get it fixed yourself?” he asks, his usual gruff voice replaced by a particular softness for you.

you just shrug. “i don’t know. i never got around to it. winter came early.”

the both of you remember when you first got together. he told his family for a reason. he was so excited, saying he found the one. a few months later, no one was celebrating.

love slipped beyond his reaches the day he began doubting himself. he wasn’t good enough for you. becoming the #1 hero in his country only made him wonder more about his worth. he could barely give a reason towards the break up, instead spewing out that he needed to think things through instead.

“..how was your trip?” you break the silence, though you know the answer. his trip was great. the media wouldn’t shut up about it. about his parties and award shows, about the lives he saved and the talents he has. they particularly the people, more so the girls he was with. though you decided not to bring that part up.

he paused for a moment. he knew you would say something about it soon. he was being watched and photographed everywhere he went, which included a few girls who got some videos and pictures with him.

“it was exhausting, more than fun. you know all those girls only care about publicity and attention, none of it was real.” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“i didn’t bring up girls.” you’re quick to remind him. though its nice how he’s so quick to assure any doubts you may have. “but… yeah. i figured as much.”

“you know nothing happened between me and anyone you saw, right?” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious- but its not. katsuki could have went home with someone else, done illicit drugs, drank and had unprotected sex, and it wouldn’t be any of your business.

“it… wouldn’t matter anymore if you did. we broke up before you left, remember?” you say.

theres nothing with katsuki’s memory. he thinks about that break up every damn night.

“um.. least you had kirishima with you.” you quip, just trying to lighten the mood. you get a genuine smile out of the blonde.

“yeah. shitty hair was annoying, as usual.” he chuckles fondly. only best friends can refer to each other like that.

shitty hair was also the guy that kept katsuki from doing something, or rather someone, he might regret. he knows his best friend and he knows where his feelings lie.

katsuki was midas. everything he touched turned to gold. and people adored him for it, revelling in the fame and fortune. but with that superpower comes consequences. not everything should b shiny and gold. sure, his midas touch on the chevy door looked beautiful, but you two could never actually drive it. your relationship shimmered and glistened, but it never went anywhere.

but for a moment, things were good. you’d laugh and smile with your group of friends- though after the breakup you believed you’d never say that word again. now, those friends have the nerve to deck the halls that katsuki once loved you in.

he never was ready, so you watched him go. neither of you just didn’t know the answer, even after begging him to stay on your knees.

you would have made such a lovely bride. what a shamed he’s fucked in the head. even though to him you were the real thing.

he still has your picture in his wallet. he wants to your hold hand dancing, and never leave you like he did ever again.

“…what happened to us, anyway?” he dares to ask, his whisper speaking volumes in the silence. he knows the answer. he knows why he did what he did. but you suppose he wants to know what you think.

“one moment you love me, and your promising to fix my heater… next thing i know, you’ve gotta think things through. and then you’re on a plane to los angeles.”

he flinches at that. kind of a dick move on his part, not explaining things and immediately fleeing the country afterwards. to be fair, it was a pr trip he had planned months before, but if that wasn’t the case he’d still book a spontaneous trip to alberta or somewhere, like the coward he is.

he feels the most guilt when you bring up the heater he said he’d fix. it wasn’t the only thing he promised you. he swore you’d always be loved, that you’d never be alone, and yet he couldn’t even give you a god damn warm apartment for the winter.

“i did love you.” he attempts to correct you, though you focus only on one word.

“did?” you ask, hesitantly.

he pauses again, realizing his slip up.

“…i do love you.”

you shake your head silently, eyes welling up with tears. one falls into your cup of tea. “don’t… don’t say that just to make me feel better, kats.”

but he’s not. he’s saying it because he means it. he’s saying it because he’s kept his mothers ring in his pocket, preparing for the moment he’ll make it your ring.

at this point, he can tell the cold is getting to you. your shaking slightly, your loose sweater respectfully doing nothing to shield you from the winter air. a broken heater neglected by a shitty ex-boyfriend is enough cold.

“you’re cold?” he asks. “no, i’m warm.” you answer sarcastically. its his fault for asking.

he debates on it for a moment. normally, he wouldn’t think twice before pulling you into his embrace. but now, he worries. he wonders if thats even what you want. his quirk keeps him warm enough, but you don’t have that. seeing your reaction to the bitter winter air pushes him to a decision.

“c’mere.”

maybe its the cold, the ache in your heart missing him, or some combination of both, but you don’t think twice before shuffling over to him on the couch as he wraps his arms around you. your head lays against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

god, he missed this. even the warmth of LA didn’t compare to holding you on a chilled night.

“you’re the worst.” you whisper, obviously still angry and heartbroken, yet still in his embrace. “i love you.”

those words feel like a confession. he takes it, both the proclamation of his faults and the admission that you still love him. both are true.

“i love you too, dumbass.” he says. “and i’m not just saying that.”

you perk your head up slightly, finally asking the million-dollar question: “..then why’d you break things off?”

he looks at you. he knows exactly why. but he’s not sure if he can break it to you yet. ultimately, he decides you deserve the truth.

with a sigh, he finally speaks. “i… i don’t know. i thought it would be better for you. i thought you’d be happier without me dragging you down, babe.”

you look into his red eyes and determine that he is, in fact, telling the truth- despite how fabricated it sounds. katsuki bakugou, the incredible #1 hero who was the best of the best, thought he wasn’t good enough?

yeah, thats exactly the case. because even through his heroic outside, katsuki wondered if you deserved more. or better.

he sees the confusion in your eyes and decided to explain his thoughts further. “i thought you’d be better off without me, with someone else. i thought you’d find someone better than me who didn’t have such a shitty personality, someone who you’d be better with.”

you shake your head, making sure he hears you. “i know you’ve been doubting yourself since you became #1… wondering if you’re good enough or not, but… i thought you’d at least know you’re good enough for me.”

its crazy to him how easy it was for his fears to die down if he had just talked to you in the first place. he’s learned his lesson.

so he nods, pressing a kiss and an “i’m sorry” to your forehead. you continue talking to him.

“you’re shitty, and you’re kind of an asshole.” you chuckle. “you’re also really sweet when it counts. you remember things about me. you fix things, i guess except for my heater… you’re good to me. you try. you try harder with me than with anything else in your life.”

he couldn’t help but smile a little at the truth in your words. even counting his time in UA, his relentless training to become a hero, katsuki tried the hardest to become better for you. “yeah. you make me wanna change.”

he presses his forehead to yours, just relishing in the newfound warmth. he’s happy, content.

“lets call it even.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his. “i didn’t think i was good enough for you either.”

he almost scoffs at that. “you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that.”

you roll your eyes. “so are you.”

tags! 🫧

@dragonscribble @rayleeya @brisklofitea @saceaseeds

424 notes · View notes

maxxiemoa · 14 days ago

Text

~Erik Campbell x sunshine reader~

An: Got a really cute ask for Erik with a sunshine character that his family is really surprised is with him. I thought it was really cute so here is this.

Summary: You have always like stuff on the cuter side. Blowing bubble in the summer, dressing your dog up in silly outfits, and wearing glitter in your hair. So yeah maybe it’s a bit of a suprise that your boyfriend is an edgy tattoo covered, piercing having, completely sarcastic, and argumentative boy. But he’s yours and you live him.

Ps: No pronouns used nor is there any talk of a gendered appearance for the reader.

Erik was a bit surprised when you walked into the tattoo parlor shop. You looked really out of place. When you walked in the lights in the studio really lit up the glitter you wore in your hair. And you were wearing color. So yeah you looked a bit out of place. But all that did was peak Erik’s interest in you.

You came in ro get your industrial pierced. You told Erik that you had seen a really cute bar with a chain of little stars attached to it and that you bought it right away. Erik enjoyed that you wanted to talk to him during your appointment. He was a bit of a chitter chatter. He liked that his job gave him the opportunity to meet different kinds of people and talk with them. But a lot of the time people just kind of wanted to put their headphones in or scroll on their phones.

He couldn’t really judge them too much because he would have his headphones in too if he didn’t have control of the shops music. But it was nice to have someone in today who wanted to talk just as much as he did. And talk you two did.

You told him about your dog, Fluffy, and showed him pictures of him dressed up in little costumes. He told you about his more than concerning amount of Spotify playlists. What can he say, he loves a good playlist. He has one for everything. For going to work, for coming home from work, for winter, for summer, for cooking, for showering, for when he’s sad, for when he’s horny, for absolutely everything.

You started to make it a game and kept naming general emotions or daily activities to see if he had a playlist and he did. You showed him some of your favorite songs. And he added a few to his playlists. He was cute. He was really cute. You had to admit you did like your boys a bit on the edgy side. And he was just so cute. His eyes are this pretty blueish grey color and his laugh makes you kind of fuzzy in your stomach.

You decided to be brave and once he was done with your piercings you asked for his number. You wish you could said you did it really smoothly but in all honesty you kind of fumbled your words and said “Number please” with this kind of desperate look in your eyes. Nonetheless he thought it was cute and gave you his number. He wrote it on your hand like a fucking 5th grader but it only made you like him more.

It had been a few months since you and Erik went on your first date. He took you to the aquarium and you sort of just walked around holding his hand and announced “fishy” every time you saw a fish you liked the look of. Erik started playfully mocking you and pointed at stuff around the aquarium and announced it. Like at one point he just kept saying “lights”.

He was really sweet. Kind of a sarcasm dumb dumb at times but you really liked him. Once the two of you had been together for 4 months he thought it was time to really introduce you to his family. Family meant a lot to Erik and he could tell that you would be around for awhile so it was important that you met his family.

Erik brought you to his family’s first barbecue of the summer and when his family first saw you they were a bit shocked. You looked very different than Erik. For one thing you were dressed in all color, and was that…glitter in your hair? And more importantly was that glitter in Erik’s hair?

Bobby couldn’t help himself when you walked into the backyard and he basically attacked you. He ran up to you picking you up and spinning you around in his arms. He felt like he knew you already. Erik would not shut up about you and he always has this dorky grin on his face when he was talking about you.

Bobby thought of you as the same as him. Into bunnies and drawing with chalk outside when it was nice. Bobby knew better than anyone that opposites always made the best pairs. He loved his brother and the two of them are so close. They like their own stuff but they have interests that cross over sometimes. Bobby was not the one bit suprised when you looked like you just swam in a tub of glitter glue.

#erik campbell #erik campbell final destination #erik campbell x reader #final destination #final destination bloodlines

247 notes · View notes

saturnznct · 10 months ago

Text

the sims | dad!jake

➸ note; just a summary of the sims :)

➸ word count; 2189 words

➸ warning(s); accidental pregnancy x2, a bit suggestive, birth & feeding, cryptic pregnancy

enhypen masterlist (lnks will be added later)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you and jake meet when he and jay go to a bar together lol the two of you can’t stop staring at each other and jay, with the help of some liquid courage, convinces jake to go up to you and get your number

so you start hanging out

he’s so shy with you at first because he has such a big crush and you think he’s just adorable

one day he just thinks fuck it and kisses you and the rest is history

you’d been together for seven years and engaged for a few months when you get pregnant

you were usually great with protection but one time you’d run out of condoms and just decided to take the risk

you were terrified to tell him but he was excited, but a bit unsure of what to do

once your little bump and everything shows up he’s obsessed

very touchy, waits on you hand and foot

all the members are super excited, they love sam so another enha baby to love is super exciting

achy is probably the best way to sum up your pregnancy, your back and feet hurt a lot all of the time

when you find out you’re having a girl he gets so giddy

definitely loves a good chat with the bump

goes all shy and bashful when she responds to him

i don’t imagine him being the type to sing to the baby?? i think he’s much more of a talker

never ever gets tired of her moving, can literally just picture him at night being the big spoon with his hand on your bump, his chest aches every time she kicks or moves

when she moves around on the scans you can literally see stars in his eyes

thinks you’re just the cutest when you get big, waddling around in his hoodies

keeps the latest scan photo in his wallet

your third trimester is in winter so the fireplace in your apartment is on in the evenings

lots of cuddles together

you very rarely feel insecure because jake makes it very clear just how attractive he finds you

it helps that you’re so hormonal that you’re constantly trying to jump his bones and he is… very receptive to that

the two of you decide to have a home birth, you love your apartment so much and its a place of comfort for you

also there’s no hassle or stress with transporting her home from a hospital or packing a bag etc

your labour is pretty nice, as much as it can be

you were only in labour for about 9 hours, and being at home surrounded by your familiar walls with the lights dimmed down

jake of course was incredibly supportive the whole time

ella ara sim is born 10th april at your home in seoul

jake delivered her in your bathtub, and cuts the cord

the greatest moment of his entire life

ella is a very chilled baby

feeds happily, is easily soothed

loves her daddy, jake can get her to stop crying faster than anyone

you slightly worry he holds her too much, he likes to sit by your floor to ceiling windows overlooking seoul and talk to her for hours about life and all the fun things you’ll do together when she’s older

he holds her in the early mornings in bed, on his chest or in his arms while he scrolls through his phone

these moments definitely help your relationship, when you’re both tired and drained you just sit together with or without the baby

even if you don’t talk you just have this sense that you’re in this together and you understand each other without word

Jake loves it when you’re able to pump, he loves being the one to give her bottles

ella is only the second enha baby after sam and jay is very insistent on regular playdates, he wants them to be besties so bad

they’re actually quite indifferent to each other lol

shows her off to everyone who will look

has a little silver ‘e’ necklace

when she’s about a year old she visits australia for the first time

jake fusses over her like crazy, it’s australian summer so he’s constantly smothering her with suncream and she’s got her lil bucket hat on

holds her in the pool in his family’s backyard, gently lifting her up and dunking her legs in and out of the water while she giggles like crazy

takes her to meet koalas

he loves her to be girly, thinks she’s just the cutest when she has cute little floral clothes

her giggles are his favourite sound in the whole world

purposely tickles her so that she giggles

once he tickles her for so long that she starts coughing and you get annoyed with him

doesn’t tickle her for a while after that

actually doesn’t mind playing with her, will happily sink hours into tea parties and roleplay

the BIGGEST daddy girl

her first word is dada

first steps are towards jake

jake is so fucking happy

later that night he just sobs and thanks you over and over and over for giving him his perfect baby girl

always wants to be in his arms or on his lap

jake always allows her to climb all over him and will smother her with kisses

when ella is 2 you guys finally get married, she’s one of your little bridesmaids

jake spends a lot of time dancing with her during the reception

you enjoy married life for a while, and when ella is 3, jake begins to miss her baby days

so, the two of you decide to start trying again

about 8-9 months later you’re pregnant

jake is so so excited he wants to tell el straight away but you shut him down lmao

eventually when you do tell her jake is so excited, his eyes are practically sparkling when he tells her she’s going to be a big sister

you’re pretty much bed bound and sick for the first 4-5 months, you throw up a lot

you get a lot of migraines

jake is great as usual

you and jake had talked about kids before having ella and both of you hoped for at least one of each, so when you found it it was a boy you were so happy

jake suggests his name, he just thinks its so cute

declan daehyun sim is born 1st october at your home in seoul, this time on your bed

jake also delivers him and cuts his cord

slightly more challenging baby

cries often for no real reason, no matter what you do he just cries

lots of sleepless nights

ella’s in primary school at this point so lots of daytime naps together

ella actually isn’t too jealous or anything, she comes and sits quietly next to you or jake when you’re holding declan and just watches him

she likes to hold him herself

dec is literally jake’s twin, your genes did not stand a single fucking chance

jake’s nose, jake’s eyes, jake’s mouth, jake’s hair

gets more and more clear as he grows into a toddler, everyone comments on it

i feel like jake is just as much of a boy dad as he is a girl dad like he has two sides

loves playing legos and football with dec

when dec is born you move into your ‘forever home’, a big apartment in seoul

there’s a pool in your apartment complex so you best believe most nights after dinner jake takes the kids down

when declan is around 18 months, you start throwing up and it doesn’t stop for a couple of weeks and you and jake are like… what the hell

you were on birth control that didn’t give you periods so you didn’t think it would be pregnancy but alas…

you go to the doctor and you’re 5 months pregnant and you had no idea

bit of a shock of course

you don’t know how to react at first

like dec is still so young, your birth control had clearly failed, you only had 4 months to prepare

but there obviously isn’t much you can really do other than just start gearing up for your baby’s arrival

you get a bump and some symptoms soon after you find out

pregnancy starts kicking your ass during the third trimester though, doesn’t help you’re running after declan all day

jake of course is the best like you don’t even need to say anything, if you’re having a hard day he can just tell and will do anything to alleviate your stress

like if declan is being a lil shit and you’re stressed jake will seamlessly distract him with something else

weirdly good at convincing declan he needs a nap

you decide to keep the gender a surprise because you know this will definitely be your last one and you’ve had enough surprises yk

eve sim was born at your home 8th september

born on your bed

jake delivers her and cuts the cord

you’re both ecstatic with another girl, she’s the double of ella as a baby

you don’t give her a name until she’s a couple of days old, jake starts calling her evie cause he thinks it sounds cute, you decide on eve cause it works in korean too

ella loves eve, she’s so excited to have a sister

declan is not so sure

he’s a bit jealous, especially since he’s still a little baby himself

is a little bratty about it too

you’ll sit down to feed eve and he’ll come up to you and start whining and tugging on your pants

cue jake waltzing in to distract him

i don’t think jake would be very strict

he is very much their friend and ally and they know that

hates punishments and discipline, i mean he’ll dish it out but really struggles to stay strong when they cry or get upset

will apologise for having to do it afterwards

i don’t think he would be a very pushy parent, wouldn’t be too strict about grades or extra curriculars, but will support them in whatever it is

the kids go to swimming lessons, but jake loves to help them in your pool at home, it reminds him of his childhood in Australia

definitely the type to just launch them in the air much to your horror

loves it when the kids come to see a concert, just the knowledge that the kids are in the crowd gives him a little extra energy

engene posting on twitter that jake looks so happy

everything is all about the kids backstage, if they’re there then jake and the members are smothering them in attention

if he goes on your without them he always comes back with toys

accidentally starts a tradition of buying a teddy in each place he goes

when you pick them up from school their plaits and ponytails and what have you obviously fell out hours ago

eve and ruby are a few months apart in age so they are besties of course

jake would absolutely say the worst part of being a father is the kids growing up, when they get too big for him to hold and cuddle properly is when his heart hurts when he looks at them

he loves babies so much and always always misses the baby days but seeing his kids grow into independent, strong willed, talented individuals makes him so proud

they’re always his baby girls/boy

even when they’re older he will still give them cuddles when they’re sad

the kids go to australia maybe once a year or every other year, visit jake’s family

but you settle in a big apartment in seoul

kids speak a mix of english and korean at home, there’s no real pattern to it

they speak english amongst each other but i think with jake they mix it up

they also use mainly english names at home, you and jake like them more

they use korean and korean names pretty much anywhere outside the house

although ella does get called el by the members and jake pretty much at all times

overall the sim family is so so so full of love <3

757 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 1 year ago

Text

Sex on the Beach

Wanda Maximoff x F!R (College AU)

Natasha x F!R x Yelena (found family)

Warnings: Alcohol | Possessive / Jealous Wanda | Mutual Pining | Shy / Awkward R | Natasha is a little shit 💕

Smut: Awkward/Sweet 1st time (Dialogue Breaks) | Mommy (W) | Thigh-Riding / Strap / Oral (R) | Marking | Oral (W)

With Natasha’s lover deployed for the holiday’s she takes an interest in her best friend’s pathetic love life. | WC: 8,676

Request

"Natasha, I swear to god I will never forgive you," you whined, hands clutching desperately onto your best friend's crossed arms, but she wasn't phased one bit.

That much was clear as she slowly rolled her eyes, "There are eight rooms, and eleven of us Y/N, there's no way around it. Val and Carol are sharing, I'm the one grouped up with Lena, so suck it up buttercup."

"I can bunk with Bucky!" Natasha laughed, "Yeah, and then when Steve sneaks in what will you do? Pretend to be asleep while they fuck like it's the closet, again?"

You quite frankly didn't mind such vile behavior. Anything seemed better to you than the alternative.

——

"Love is love," you used the mantra as a plead and the redhead nearly keeled over. "Nice..." You grinned then, with a doomed sense of glee. "Still not happening."

"Then why don't you make them bunk together?"

"Because they'd know we know, and it is rude to force people out of their clear glass closets Y/N/N." You simply huffed in reply, and pushed her slightly as you released your former death grip on her. Natasha smiled softly this time, but she refused to change her mind. It was her job as your best friend to push you in the right direction, even if you couldn't see the bigger picture just yet. "Hey! At least Wanda doesn't snore."

You knew from experience Natasha was making the biggest sacrifice of all with Yelena, but quite frankly you didn't care. Right now you are feeling spiteful.

Natasha cackled at the middle finger you threw her way, but it was more so because you tripped as you spun to get away from her. You never hit the ground though as two dainty, albeit mighty hands caught you.

Wanda's eyes had lit up, her nose scrunched as her lips raised joyfully. Natasha could see the hearts circling. So, the redhead took her cue to go, and that made the brunette even more pleased to have you all to herself.

"Falling for me so soon, kitten?" Wanda teased, her lips curled up into an obnoxiously hot smile as your uncrossing eyes peered up at her, you were paralyzed; unsure if you wanted to kiss her grin away or slap it out of existence. The way she never failed to leave you in a hazy state of mind infuriated you, like yes, she was a gorgeous woman, but did she have to crumble you?!

The answer was also yes, all you offered the girl was a weak thanks for saving you from scraped palms, then you quickly scurried off to the room she'd be in soon.

Just like every time, you didn't look up nor back at her, ensuring you missed her sad eyes and pouty lips. If you wanted her plenty, she wanted you even more. Nobody else interested her quite like you did. Wanda had seen you at a few frat parties before she then forged her way into your friend group through Carol and Valkyrie.

They were all on the same volleyball team, and they hit it off so well that they brought her to a game night. You weren't known for your silence, but when she entered that apartment you suddenly became mute. Natasha teased you for a week about your pathetic gay panic, she even tried to tell you it was a mutual crush, but you refused to believe her; she who would never lie to you, yet you questioned her loyalty, lost in a haze of fear.

Natasha was honestly offended; more so determined.

Which is why she had to resort to begging Tony not to book the bigger place for the winter break kick back you were having. None of you had family, at least not the kind worth visiting, so you celebrated together.

For a change of pace from snow and gloom, the lot of you saved up enough for getting passports and Tony refused to let any of you worry about the rest. Howard was not a good father, or man quite frankly, but his well of guilt money was something Tony appreciated.

The Fijian resort he booked was gorgeous, and resided on a private part of the oceanfront, but was still within walking distance of the communal areas. It might be winter vacation, but you were in a sunny paradise across the world, the palm trees swayed as the brisk breeze brought on by the ocean blew right on by.

It was warm and humid, just as you'd expect in a tropical paradise such as this one. After the awkward moment spent embarrassing yourself with your crush you made sure to not be there when she got to the room. Fortunately for you she was stopped by the long term lovers, Care and Val, so you had just enough time to drop your belongings off before exploring the island.

The island was beautiful and the people were friendly enough to even give you a tour of the not so common spots. It was peaceful talking to strangers, and unlike in the states you didn't feel like you were a bother.

After they'd been so generous with their time you thanked them with lunch before heading back to where your friends were all lazing about indoors. To avoid further embarrassment you settled down in the sand and before you realized it you'd spent hours out there.

Perched under a cluster of trees, lost in a nsfw book, honestly you could've stayed there until the sun had set but your friends never really could let you know peace.

"I'm not going," you immediately denied whomever it was that was sent to collect you. Fearful to see the brunette of your dreams after finally calming down.

"Y/N, you need to stop being such a party pooper!"

You sighed softly, knowing that of course Natasha would send the only other person who doesn't back down when it comes to your antics; a lifetime of friendship tends to come with these pesky advantages.

After a moment of anxious thoughts you sighed again, slid a bookmark between the nearly finished pages then held your hand out for the impatient blonde. Yelena grumbled, "took you long enough, I was getting tired of the pity partying," as she hoisted you up with a force that nearly put you right back on the ground.

"It's not a pity party," you weakly defended in offense but the blonde only cackled as she began to walk off, "Y/N, you are all alone reading a book about sex with longing eyes and a pout, totally unnecessary too since you have someone patiently waiting to rail you..."

"Oh my god, Yelena!" The blonde took off before you could berate her like her mom would, but not without shouting back that Natasha had picked your outfit out for you with express instructions on not deviating.

For a split second you considered dropping back into the you shaped hole in the sand, but you knew Yelena was only a warning. If Natasha came to collect you it would be more embarrassing and it was only day one of the trip, there were still nine left to go so you caved.

Once you got to your room you found it to be empty of the woman you feared being around, but her elegant scent lingered and left you in a state of contemplation.

Would it really be so bad to see if Natasha is right?

Could you really be oversimplifying her kindness?

The more you consider it, the more you see her point. Wanda never missed a chance to talk to you, even in the hallways of the massive university she said hello. You usually nodded your head or squeaked out a hi, which you now hope she didn't take offensively. The last thing you'd ever want would be to offend her.

Then there was the glaring proof of today, when she playfully insinuated you'd fall for her... Either she is just a full time tease or you are an oblivious idiot. Truthfully, it was likely a combination of the two.

Your thoughts of consideration died when you looked down to see clothes that were not from your luggage. Natasha had apparently gone shopping for, not with, you and laid out a swim suit and two overlay options.

There was a strapless, one piece swimsuit, which you were grateful for, but the fabric over the hips was cut out and only barely passed the test of your boundaries. After you slipped into it you were left with a dilemma, wear the sheer swim slip or the form fitting dress.

"Good choice," a raspy voice called, you didn't even flinch, part of you expecting the woman to be keeping an eye on you just in case you tried to bail. Natasha chuckled, "at least this time you aren't falling," as you'd flipped the redhead off once more, this time without turning to face her as you were getting dressed.

"Or was that on purpose?" Natasha teased, "Letting Wanda save you—the pretty damsel in distress."

"I hate you," you grumbled as you turned to glare at her. Natasha negated your phrase as her hands moved to pat down the fly away hairs ruined by the fabric sliding over your head, then she smiled proudly. "You sure clean up well when you are properly supervised."

"Now, now... None of that," Natasha scolded as you flopped back onto your mattress in a defiant manner, huffing angrily in Russian to get the point across. "You are getting better, the lessons with mama are working."

"Da," you smiled fondly thinking of Melina, who was one of the only of your friend's parents you liked. The woman presents outwardly as cold, but it's not true. You knew what cold was, you'd grown up with it and so the Russian's house was like a home away from hell.

When Melina said, "How's my baby girl been?" last year while moving to hug you first instead of Nat or Lena you nearly sobbed all over the woman's blouse. But with a petty quip from Lena, "what are we then? Just her daughters?" followed by a jab to her ribs from Natasha who smiled at you, the urge to break down was gone and you kept it together to celebrate.

This year their mom had gone back home, they were going to go along but she was adamant they focused on their friendships and hopefully partners soon. Yelena wasn't as hopeless as you, but Kate unfortunately was.

Nat had Maria—who was deployed for the holidays, and it was then that you realized her focusing on your love life was for her distraction and her mom's joy.

"Stop having googly eyes for my mom," she gagged, "Save them for Wanda." You stood up and pulled your friend's face into your hands, expression far too serious for the redhead to believe you were in distress. "We didn't want to tell you girls yet, but Melina and I are..."

"Don't you finish that sentence you disgusting freak!"

Natasha ripped her face from your hands so she could escape the torture that was your devilish humor. Just as she reached the door she turned to you with a fixed glare as you were wiping away humored tears. "What?"

"Stop standing there like an idiot and follow me Y/N."

You followed the redhead silently, but with a scowl so that she knew you didn't align with her view of you. The walk to the private cabana was silent, but soon the booming voices of your friends surrounded you as they practically cheered. "You two are behind on shots!"

Tony wasted no time after alerting you to the 'dilemma' before he was handing you two full to the brim with what you knew to be the most expensive vodka. The drops lost down your chin probably worth more than the beat up Camry that you drove around back home.

After the burn in your throat faded you stepped into the circle and clashed a third shot into your friends before the lot of you tossed them back with glee. You could feel your mind and body loosening up, it was a relief honestly but then you caught sight of the deep, vivacious green eyes that were raking over your body.

In turn, you followed suit and were not disappointed. Natasha dressed you more provocatively but Wanda looked like she was interested in a casual evening. The brunette didn't need the skimpy dress or makeup to attract the attention of others, at least not with you.

Currently, she was wearing a nude bikini, the top noticeable behind the lengthy patterned cover up. Yet it still turned your mind to mush without the flair and left you to ponder if you were ready to make a move.

Your eyes continued to shamelessly wander her body, a side effect of the strong booze you supposed. There was a thin gold chain that worked like a choker around her neck, with another chain that dangled down the front and drew your attention to the valley of her chest as it only stopped just above her navel. It took everything in you not to gawk at her breasts, so you trailed your eyes back up to find her staring at you, eyes full of tease.

You definitely knew then you weren't ready, the closest you came was to send her an easy smile and Wanda sent back a more enthusiastic one because to her that was still progress. If she played her cards right this trip and thanked the godsend that is Natasha for forcing proximity she might just leave Fiji with you on her hip.

Natasha sent you a soft glare when you excused yourself to the ladies room, where after using the restroom you decided you'd build your courage up a bit more before you would even try to start a conversation.

That's how you found yourself patiently waiting your turn at the bar, sitting sideways on the stool as you fondly watched your friends from afar with a smile.

"Sex on the beach!" Yes, most definitely you thought while giving Wanda another look over. Then you were brought back to reality when the bartender tapped your shoulder. Your body shook with fright, but you regained your composure as you shifted. Kelani, the bartender, smirked as you cocked your head to the side in question. "Courtesy of the lady at the end of the bar." You gulped, clearing your throat to thank the woman then turned to see Natasha in a cloak. The redhead winked, then slinked away to the restroom.

It seemed the persistent woman had a death wish, because if you didn't get to her first, Wanda might.

Unfortunately, you were whisked away before you could reach your shit head of a best friend, who you figured was planning something all day long. Shit head was beginning to seem like an understatement when you felt a body pressing yours into the side of a door.

How the hell did you get inside so quickly?

Wanda was fuming, she was no stranger to a one night stand, and there was no way in hell she'd let you follow the dead woman walking there. It actually hurt her to see you making your way through the crowd to do so.

Was the smile you sent her in vain? Were you merely trying your hand at letting the woman down easy?

There was no part of Wanda willing to accept that, even if you were free to mingle with whomever. She couldn't let you try before you gave her a chance, so she pulled you away from the public, prying eyes of the locals so that she could try her luck one final time.

A light flickered on and you saw your belongings, then you saw a tumultuous sea of green staring down at you, she looked hurt and that made your heart ache and mind nervous. "Wh-what was that W-wanda?"

"What were you doing following that woman Y/N?" She decided to answer your question with one of her own instead, and slowly tilted her head to the side. It felt like you were in trouble, so you remained quiet and it nearly infuriated her but then she saw your gaze.

It was soft, inquisitive in nature, but moreover dilated.

Something deeper than lust swirled; annoyance, and that's when she got the answer. Wanda already had her suspicion of who it was, and she silently thanked her before readjusting her position as well as her words.

"You don't have to be so shy around me, you know?" You did know, but the bashfulness wasn't something you controlled around the goddess, much like your mouth when tipsy, "I know, but like—I can't help but to be turned on by the sight of you."

Well, so much for remaining bashful, Wanda's cheeks warmed before your very eyes, but you missed it as you closed them due to embarrassment. It was taking all of her willpower not to give you what you were both in need of. You were far too special for a quickie, she fully intended to take her time with you, "You know, how about a little fun before we go to bed?"

"F-fun?" Wanda's eyes fell to catch the trepidation of your throat, it bobbed out, almost unnaturally. You both knew there was no going back as her knee slid between your thighs to press into your wet swimsuit.

An airy chuckle left her as you whined, the woman knew for damn sure you'd barely made it to the bar so there was no way you'd taken a dive in the water first.

"Yes honey," she purred as she leaned in closer, "fun," her nose nuzzled against yours and her hot breaths mixed with your own. "Seems you're more than ready, so unless you want to object I'm going to kiss you.

"I-I," your voice trembled as your eyes watered and she lessened the pressure of her knee against your core, a sense of fear in her soul that she'd been too forward.

Wanda softly pressed, "What is it sweetheart?"

"I don't do one night stands," you squeaked out rather pitifully before finding some confidence. "I don't find anything wrong with the notion but it's not for me."

Wanda internally beamed, not only would you not have left that bar with a stranger tonight, but you were able to set a clear boundary; she not only respected it but she agreed with you. Wherever the night takes you two it would never be a once off for the brunette, who unbeknownst to you, was a total hopeless romantic.

Wanda responded softly, her tone free of pressure, "We don't have to sleep together Y/N, we can just lay down and get to know each other better if you aren't ready."

Her nose firmly pressed into yours as she continued, not leaving you a chance to reply before she laid it all out on the table. "I need you to know that as much as I crave you honey, it's not just your body, contrarily what I want most is for your heart to be mine."

With a confidence Wanda had yet to detect you gently pushed her back, initially her heart quivered at the thought of your incoming rejection, but it never came. Instead, you smiled a bit more bravely and pulled the outer layer you'd worn off to reveal just the one-piece.

"If you are being genuine, Wanda, then all I ask is that you take it slow please. I'm not the best at all of this..."

Wanda grinned, her hands quickly found purchase on your waist, unexpectedly rough thumbs ran over the bare skin and caused goosebumps to lay in their wake. Reminding you of the punk band she plays in with her brother and Clint on the weeknights at local bars. A small smile adorned your face, you began to get lost in the memory of the one time you watched them live.

Wanda tilted her head. "What did I lose you to, hm?"

You chuckled softly, "A memory of you performing."

"Oh," she sounded genuinely surprised, and that was because she never knew you'd gone to a show. A part of her was honestly embarrassed, but she covered it up with a tease, "If you were there, then why did I never see you amongst the groupies..." You rolled your eyes and she giggled, the follow up look in your blown out eyes told her she was taking too long to fuck you.

So the woman simply took a second to breathe in the moment, her head leaned back as she smiled broadly up at the ceiling from merely feeling you. "Wanda..."

Her soft, warm lips brushed over yours, cutting off your expected pleading, but she refrained from kissing you just yet. "Want mommy to take control detka?"

A deep, sensual chuckle sounded off the walls as you whimpered and pressed yourself into her. "Please."

The brunette slid her hands up, caressing your sides as her lips gently pecked your cheek, then they crossed over one another as she wrapped you in her embrace. Both of you stood there in silence, breaths mixing but neither of you moved to rid your life of the gap. Time stood still alongside you both until Wanda got her own nerves under control so that she could perform well.

"Is sex before a first date alright with you," she teased with inflection, but her eyes were genuinely inquisitive.

The silence paired with your adorable pout urged her to go on. With a heavy sigh, she did just that. "I ask, again, because once I kiss you Y/N, I don't know how quickly I will be able to stop myself. You just, you make me feel out of control detka, so just please be sure."

The look in her eyes was palpable, lust swirled and you felt a pulse of need between your thighs. You whined, "Mommy please," body too desperate for her attention for you to worry about the embarrassment anymore.

Wanda simply hummed, her thumbs gently dug into your skin and you obediently met her gentle gaze. You could see she wanted to, the way she gripped your hips even tighter a clear sign, but you could see that she needed more reassurance. "I trust you Wanda."

Wanda nods, smile soft as she finally broke the distance, her lips pressed to yours with an earnest need all while her hands returned to your hips so that she could aide you in getting off on her bare thigh. A part of your hazy mind still wondered when she had even removed her swimsuit cover, but the pleasure you felt from her choices left your mind incapable of thought.

The kiss was initially messy and awkward as the two of you got used to the shared affection, but once a rhythm had been set with her hands on your hips you were able to melt more easily into the lip lock. Your mind began to slip away, and the bubbling anxiety followed.

Eventually though, the pleasure became too much as Wanda swiftly slid your swimsuit to the side, the both of you groaned at the much more intimate feeling. It was suddenly tense, the brunette's lips had moved to kiss all over the skin you'd left exposed all the while her hands never stopped building you to your peak.

"Cum for mommy whenever you like," she purred, almost teasingly as she somehow knew you were close. Part of you wanted to feel embarrassed but you were too deep in pleasure to care that you looked desperate.

You came seconds after she left a mark on your neck, in the little juncture where it met with your shoulder. Wanda bit down harshly as she felt your delightful arousal ooze down her thigh, her own need now rising.

Wanda suddenly pulled away to catch the look of bliss on your face, internally cursing herself for nearly missing it; no way she'd waited all this time to see it just to miss it. Fortunately, she was just in time to watch your mouth fall open, and fuck if you weren't the most alluring beauty the woman had ever seen; a mess

The top of your suit had shifted down some as every time Wanda had roughly moved your body back the oak door would shift the elastic red fabric. A peak at your areoles had her mind positively spinning with the endless possibilities for the ways to have you.

The thoughts overwhelmed her while you slowly returned to a state of calm, your once tightly shut eyes fluttered open to catch sight of Wanda with her lip caught between her teeth as her eyes trailed over you.

You leaned in to kiss her slowly, it almost felt like a thank you and that made Wanda's heart swoon further. It lasted for a few seconds until you felt your lungs beg for the break they needed after your intense climax. In the moment of rest you decided to take a page from her book, and the first thing you did now that her body was nearly bare was to gawk at her perky breasts.

They sat so prettily in the cups of her bikini top and you just wanted to bury yourself in the shallow gap that lay between them. Wanda knowingly smirked, finding the look of awe on your face adorable; she was absolutely certain you'd be drooling on her in no time.

"You can touch me detka," she whispered, lips turned up as she met your eyes, "mommy doesn't mind..."

With a shaky hand you reached behind her, fingers gently laid against the clasp of her bra while your eyes searched hers once more for any hesitation. "Do it."

Her nude bra hit the floor, exposing her breasts to you, and just as you'd dreamed before they were perfect. It had always been your thought that all breasts were, no matter if they were lopsided, or small, nothing ever deterred your adoration for the warm, malleable tissue.

Wanda watched the way your tongue slowly licked over your bruised lips, you were hyper fixated on ogling her, but as her hand slid around your neck you realized she was just as desperate as you were to be touched. The worry you once felt melted away as you nuzzled your face against her breasts, lips grazing over the skin in a way that almost felt like teasing. But the woman knew you were just trying to admire the swell of her chest.

A soft sigh left her when you became more firm as your lips pressed into her heated skin. The brunette allowed you to blindly walk her backwards until she fell onto the bed, pulling your body right down with hers. You were lost somewhere in a haze as you suckled on her breasts, leaving behind marks without a thought to if she'd want that, but her moans quelled that rising fear.

Her back arched as soon as your tongue softly flicked over her pert nipple, there was hardly any hesitation as you swirled your tongue around her areola just before you pulled her nipple between your teeth and tugged. The way you suckled on her bud was almost feverish, a gentle laugh left her over a moan as she found your sudden wave of confidence to be a bit unexpected.

Unfortunately, that made you pull away with a crease between your raised brows. "Um, I-I'm sorry if I..."

Wanda replied by wordlessly pulling you back down, your face now hovering her other nipple, it had yet to receive the marvelous treatment and she desperately wanted you to touch her. "Detka, please continue..."

The woman found herself melting as you complied, her back slowly met with the mattress again as she fell into the comfort of your ministrations. Slowly, her hands began to glide over your bare sides, scratching at the skin as you built her arousal up to something painful.

The need to have you overweighed her desire for you to continue satisfying her. Cold hands soon slid beneath the elastic fabric overlaying your body, her nails slowly trailed faint lines over your skin until she finally cupped your breasts as you continued to suck on hers.

On instinct you ground your pelvis down into hers, a moan left you and reverberated around her nipple as you felt something hard rub against you. Again, you hadn't a clue when she had put a strap on, but in the lust of it all you didn't actually care much. Wanda smirked up at the ceiling at your shock, something you caught as you peered up at her from her chest.

"You know," she sighed rather amusedly, "I've dreamt of this moment for a while now and never once did you end up on the top of mommy like this kitten." You released her breast, ready to beg her to let you stay but instead you gasped as her hands groped your tits with precision, using the grip to flip you onto your back.

In a matter of seconds you regained your bearings and saw the consideration in her eyes as she played with the straps of your swimsuit. Wanda watched you gulp down your anxiety before giving her the go ahead, she wasted no time pushing her hands up and out of the top so that she could pull the offensive piece down.

"Holy shit," she chuckled, clearly a bit shocked as she found not only were your nipples pierced but so was your belly button. "My sweet girl is a secret deviant?"

"I was a rebellious teen," you quietly admitted.

"Nothing to be ashamed about kitten," she reassured you within an instant, she saw you internally prepared to shy away though so she shared her own experience with rebellion. "Actually, believe it or not but mommy was too; used to have her lips and nose pierced."

You believed it easily, she was in a punk band...

"I would've loved to see that," you dream aloud and the gorgeous brunette chuckled as she kissed her way up your body until her lips found a home against yours. "I'm sure Pietro will grace you with the evidence."

You cried out at the realization, "Oh god, Natasha..."

Wanda grimaced, pulling back to glare softly as her head tilted naturally. "No more screaming others names... Actually, how about no more talking at all." You were seconds away from combusting, an apology on the tip of your stuttering tongue. "I-I'm s—oh fuck."

Wanda had quickly shushed your apologies as her svelte fingers slid through your lips, collecting the slick warmth from within as she parted them. Her emeralds shone with pure accomplishment and joy as your eyes closed. "Mhm, mommy prefers those sweet moans."

"Tell me honey," Wanda broke her rule again as her wet fingers lifted up to her moving lips. Her thoughts effectively paused as she tasted you for the first time. Wanda moaned around her digits and sucked them clean before she found herself hovering over you. "Do you think you're wet enough for my cock baby? Or do you need mommy's fingers to stretch you out first?"

The crude question made your heart beat out of time, you felt ready for her strap but the idea of her fingers inside of you sounded so appealing. It was actually your attraction to her hands that told Wanda her crush was far from unrequited. You weren't slick with the way you stared at her during your ceramics elective.

Your mind had faltered too, so your thoughts faded. Her eyes dilated at the sound of your pathetic mewl as the tip of her thick strap nudged at your tight hole. Her fingers pressed the crimson cock to the side so that her fingers could enter you instead. The spit that remained helped to ease her in alongside your decadent slick.

Wanda had already decided for you, and it just so happened that she too had fantasized about just how good you'd feel around her fingers. However, in your mind it would have been at a faster pace, Wanda wanted to take her time and really get to feel you.

Her fingers kept a steady pace until your moans had calmed into occasional mewls, then she slid back in and scissored your walls further apart, a third finger entered you as her thumb began to circle your clit. You had gasped against her face and Wanda felt powerful.

"M-more please," you whimpered hoarsely into her ear, her fingers entered back inside you just as you pleaded further, "Mommy please, let me cum!!" Wanda curled her fingers into your greatest depths and you came with a loud cry as she grunted hotly in your ear.

Her fingers continued to sensually stroke and prod at that rough, yet tender spot within your greatest depths just so she could continue to hear your sweet gasps of a drawn out pleasure. The throb between her own legs was only intensified as you begged for her to stop but also keep going in the same breath as your hips canted.

Wanda whispered something in Sokovian, you'd never know but she was cursing you for being so hypnotizing. No one had ever made her this needy for a release, her hips followed yours so she ripped her fingers from your core. A satisfied hum garbled by her fingers sounded off above as she once again licked her fingers clean.

"I can't wait to taste you from the source kitten," she practically squealed and you found her giddiness to be so intimate with you endearing. Her lips pressed into yours and her velvet smooth tongue slid over yours without so much as a bit of resistance. You sloppily kissed the woman until her strap slid into you halfway.

There was a noticeable burn at the rapid stretch but you whined in disappointment when she pulled out.

To fuck you into the mattress was a dream, sure, but Wanda had other dreams for tonight's fun. "Mommy needs you to ride my cock, pretty girl..." Your eyes had widened but Wanda faced the fear for you by kissing you distracted as her hands flipped your positions.

You landed on top of her with a hmph, and a soft glare as the woman peered down with a smug grin. "I can take it Y/N, you aren't going to hurt me, so hop on."

A shuddered breath left you as you faced the concern head on, lifting your body to hover her raised strap. Wanda nodded and held onto your hip with her free hand as you slowly sunk down. Your walls clenched hard, preventing you from sliding down further so she lifted her now free hand up to stroke your lip on the way up to play with your throbbing bundle. The burn faded into white hot pleasure and soon you bounced; vigorously moving your hips and stealing the air from the woman beneath you's lungs as her clit felt the pleasure every time your bounces provided pressure.

A particular press of the hilt into her clit drew a moan you knew she'd tried to keep buried within her chest. It was so vulnerable and incredibly attractive, so much so that your walls fluttered rapidly around her strap.

"You're close," the brunette grunted with certainty as she began to rock her hips in time to meet your drops, desperate not only for her own release but to see you fall apart above her. "So am I baby, I just—fuck, play with your tits for mommy, please, we'll cum together."

"There you go," she encouraged with a sultry glint in her eyes as her hips unconsciously sped up, her eyes raptly focused in on the way you squished 'em together before moving to pinch your pierced, sensitive nubs.

A guttural moan left the woman when your work paid off, her orgasm sent tingles of pleasure down her spine in a perfect curve. The wave directly ended with the rise of her hips and the subsequent fall of yours. Your pleasure gushed on out of you and drenched Wanda as your upper body lurched forward and her face wound up buried between your breasts that heaved wildly.

There was a sense of satisfaction that charged the air on both of your ends, but it also felt unfinished as you laid on your back, with Wanda's smiling face gazing up at you from between your breasts, a parallel to your earlier, swapped position. "What's on your mind?"

"Am I that obvious," she teased, knowing damn well that her eyes were still desperate for you. Her lips kissed the sides of your breasts as she began her descent, "you know what's coming, so brace yourself."

Even with the clear warning you couldn't help but to moan like a whore and bury your fingers into her hair. Your puffy, overused lips were already so sensitive that the use of her mouth was never needed but she would be damned if she didn't use her tongue to please you.

Wanda preferred to live life on an even keel so she didn't stop when your essence coated her throat, nor when it dripped down her chin or when you pushed her head, desperate for reprieve. No, the carnal need to keep you cumming was enough to keep her munching until you came for the sixth time and yanked her away.

There was no remorse on her glistening face as she peered up at you with a scrunched nose and smiled. "Sorry sweetheart, but you are just so delectable." As expected, you did not reply as you were lost inside your scrambled mind. Wanda perched herself up on her knees and admired your body as it continually jolted. Her hands felt the way that the muscles in your thighs quivered beneath her fingertips from the overexertion.

You'd been fucked into a state near comatose so for now the brunette decided it best to lay beside one another as you recomposed. With an arm slid beneath your waist and her fingers tenderly walking down your body, starting from your face and ending on your hip where she'd swirl her finger into a few shapes before she traced her fingers all the way back to your face.

"Welcome back," she giggled when your eyes cleared as her fingers lightly tapped over your temple. Your eyes narrowed and you huffed softly as you burrowed close. Wanda chuckled as you loudly yawned against the side of her neck then kissed the skin as your lips met. You nudged her until she was flat on her back and suckled, you were tired but also determined to show her a good time. "Honey, we need to clean up and get some rest."

"Please mommy," you croaked sadly, "I want to taste you, just one lick then we can get cleaned up, please."

Fuck. Wanda realized that she couldn't say no to you when you looked so beautiful, eyes glistening under the bright lights of the room with a post orgasmic glow. At the sight of her nod you kissed down her body happily, making sure to bite down on the bruising skin. Her grip on the base of your neck grew reciprocal as you chose to use pain to arouse her further. You already knew her body so well, it was the best feeling ever.

With a loophole in your mind you kiss her lips, soft enough to not collect much slick to constitute a taste but more than enough to make her cry out weakly. Wanda had about half a mind to rip you away for playing her so well but then your tongue stroked up and down her walls, you had found another cheat.

To you, a lick logically only ended when the stroke faltered but much to her shock it hadn't, not even once. Though tired you powered through, plunging your muscle in and out of her without the intention to stop. Once her thighs slammed shut you moved your lips up to her clit and rejoiced as she drenched your chin.

"I'd say you very well know what you're doing," she huffed amusedly as she caught your gaze on her face.

"I'm not even sorry," you giggled as you trailed her slick all over her sweaty torso on your way to her lips. Wanda chuckled hoarsely, "Neither am I kitten."

After the both of you took a second to breathe you stared deeply into the others eyes, Wanda cupped your cheek and scrunched her nose as she, in true sapphic fashion, spoke her premature desires into the world. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful human I've ever had the fortune of knowing. I know we haven't spoken much but I want you to know I feel in my heart that you are the person I'm meant to fall in love with."

You gulped, "like soulmates? You think we are?"

Wanda nodded with a grin. "Most definitely, you are the only one who has ever been allowed to taste me."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull and she laughed boisterously at your shock; you were so cute.

"Are you serious?" Wanda nodded with a much more nervous smile. "So, when you hesitated, it was—."

"I really did want you to rest," she interrupted, "but then I saw the dark look in your eyes. They were so droopy and yet you wanted to please me in return."

"Has no one ever tried?" Wanda bit her lip at the question, it felt intrusive but she knew you meant well so she didn't deflect. "Not really. Just once but it felt wrong. I didn't want them to have the access to me."

You beamed with a sweet shine in your eyes, then you kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her smile. "Thank you for trusting me, and taking such good—."

Wanda cut your praise off with a deeper kiss, you lazily swirled your tongue with hers until she was satisfied.

"Don't ever thank me for doing anything for you," she commanded gently, "you deserve to be worshipped."

"I think we're soulmates too," you finally affirmed her prior notion and she looked at you shocked. She had never intended for you to share a response so soon after her aggressively-launched inquiry. But you did, and it was obviously heartwarming. "You're safe."

Wanda tightened her arms around you and just basked in the after glow of her dream come true for a bit. Then, when she felt you were about to drift off she sprung into action while she left you to take a cat nap.

When she returned to the room she lightly stroked your face until your eyes fluttered open. "I know you're tired love but we need to get cleaned up, come on." In a sleepy haze you accepted her hand and let her do it all. There was no visual recollection but you felt her every light touch and heard the sweet nothings as she took her time cleaning you both up to let your muscles soak.

Eventually you two made it back to bed after sharing a water bottle and a container of fruit and nuts that Wanda had snuck to the kitchen to steal for you both. Now you two were perfectly wrapped up together.

Neither of you were too familiar with love, the both of you having spent most of your adult life single, but it's something you felt budding as you melted into her. The brunette was far too content to sleep, with you on her chest her wildest dream had come true, so she was afraid if her eyes took the risk that you'd be gone. Then she felt your soft breaths, and her own exhaustion rise, her extensive exertion caught up to her quickly. Eyes of green trailed over your form once more before closing.

"Oh god," Yelena's voice cracked as she spoke through the door. "I can smell the nefarious things you did."

Wanda rolled her eyes, there was nothing cruel about the way she just made love to your body, but of course the blonde would make your encounter devilish. For a moment Wanda just ignored her presence, pretending to be asleep but Yelena was just too damn intuitive.

"Wanda Maximoff," she sang tauntingly, "We know you are definitely not sleeping. You are probably too busy staring at Y/N with love-sick puppy dog eyes."

Wanda threw the alarm clock that neither of you would use at the door and groaned when all the blonde did was laugh maniacally "Exactly, you are so whipped."

Her voice was strained, "What do you want Belova?"

"Natasha said she doesn't care if you are mid-fuck, the both of you better get dressed and join the bonfire."

At just the mention of Natasha your head popped up, you glared intensely out the window, Wanda giggled.

"Does someone want revenge?" You groaned and put your face back in the safety of Wanda's neck. The way you grumbled incoherently against her skin only made her laugh harder, the sensation having tickled her.

Then the pressure changed, you were no longer talking but instead you were suckling on her skin, returning the favor of visibly marking her until she moaned.

"Okay," Yelena chuckled nervously, "I do not want to have to hear the sinning, take this visit as a warning."

You rolled your eyes this time, knowing the truth to her words which made you pull away. Wanda could see the reluctance in your expression and it made her melt. To see you were eager for a round two focused on her was enough to make her want to ignore Natasha's threats.

It was never up to her though as you got up, Russian curses directed at redhead nothing short of amusing. Even though you presented as grumpy, the woman knew deep down that the meddling Russian sisters were the closest thing to family that you had. So, you rushing to get dressed wasn't in fear of the redheads daunting arrival, but more so you wanting to see her.

To thank her for the push, which you did moments later after the both of you arrived. You led Wanda to a chair big enough for two and left the brunette with a timid kiss, aware that all your friends were there. Tony went to tease you but was stopped by Wanda's glare.

"I'd rather watch this anyway," he chuckled as he turned away from your terrifying girlfriend. Wanda followed his gaze and couldn't help but to laugh, you were chasing Nat around the rough sand on wobbly legs, which only spurred her taunting on tenfold.

Once you caught up to her you tackled the redhead, nobody could hear you two anymore, but they could see you were mercilessly tickling the woman. After a torturous minute she called uncle and you both stood, her hand shook yours in a truce that relaxed you, but then she smirked and leaned in closer to taunt you.

"You're welcome for the fun," her eyes were swirling with mischief as they fell to the side of your neck. "Who knew the group's favorite nun in training had it in her."

"Bite me," you shot back and her eyes sparkled at the ease of her next tease, "Looks like Wanda already did."

Natasha cackled the whole way back to the group as she jogged to her seat to escape your next attack. It wasn't going to deter you though, sand flew from beneath your feet as you neared the group in a rush.

Two seconds before you could reach her though you felt your body being yanked down by what you believed to be gravity, but then you felt softness beneath you.

Wanda had shamelessly pulled you into her lap, she was sat with her legs crossed, and her eyes bore a playfulness to them alongside a bit of sternness. The entire group watched the way you settled, no words needed to be exchanged as you cuddled into her side. The brunette kissed your forehead, then followed it up with a peck to your nose and a languid one to your lips.

"Wow! The beast has been tamed," Tony cheered, the group of your friends giggled loudly and you frowned.

"Careful how you speak of my girl Tony," Wanda said with a tone that dripped with a warning, her eyes not even moving away from yours as she defended you. The sexual energy that oozed off the the two of you was always there, but the visible marks had never been.

Tony sighed at the direct confirmation, "I vote we remove them from the bet," drawing the both of your attention back to your friends who were anxiously sat.

Your tone was clearly confused, "The bet?"

"Catch up kid," the billionaire shot at you, you were just about to remind him you were older but he just continued on being a douchebag, "It was no secret you and the practicing witch would bone this trip. So, as opportunists we all bet on what night it might happen."

You looked to your family with a glare, "Nat? Lena?"

The sisters shrugged while their outstretched hands were collecting the hundreds. "It was an inevitability Y/N Y/L/N, so we obviously made it profitable."

You flipped the blonde off, then the redhead next. The bulk of your friends chuckled when they saw you try to shy away from their gaze by burrowing into Wanda. Everyone was more than thrilled to see you smile like that, all soft and obviously lovestruck for the woman and the brunette adored that you found comfort in her.

"It's okay detka," Wanda coo'd lovingly into your ear, with one hand on your back to soothe you while the other reached out to accept her cut of the bet money. "I'm sure our friends here will pay for our date..."

Tony gasped, but his rebuttal died on his tongue as your smirking girlfriend tilted her head a fraction to the right, her fingers wiggled and the man would swear for years to come he saw a flash of red spark at the tips.

Wanda smirked at the man before her lips fell into something softer as she regarded your sleeping form. Her gaze slowly drifted up to the pair of sisters to her right who stared at her intently. Natasha smiled at her, and in that moment they came to a silent agreement. All your sister by claim wanted was for you to be happy and taken care of, something Wanda promised with a nod. Natasha easily fell back into conversation after.

Yelena however had a much different approach as she glared at the brunette with all the contempt she had within. "Prichini yey bol', i ty umresh', muchitel'no."

(Hurt her and you die, painfully.)

This time, Natasha didn't jab her sister in the hip and Wanda didn't test her chances, she merely nodded.

——

The following morning came with disorientation on your end as you woke up to the sound of a muted buzz. Your mind was still lightyears behind your ears though so you subconsciously thought it was the yardmen on your campus as per usual. Then you felt a body pressed into your sore one and you remembered. You were halfway across the world, entangled with your crush.

It wasn't a fever dream but a glorious reality...

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see Wanda asleep, with her lips pursed and nose pressed into your chest, the noise from before now had an official source. You wanted to giggle at her, but you merely rolled your eyes and softly cursed your best friend. "Chertov lzhets."

(Fucking liar...)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #yelena belova

1K notes · View notes

rottiens · 10 months ago

Text

A LOVELY TOUCH┊ISAGI YOICHI

✮ summary. meeting his parents and being in his room for the first time allows you to get to know another side of isagi that you hadn't discovered before.

✮ tags. (18+), established relationship, unprotected sex + creampie, fem reader, petnames, sex toys, praising (that’s my girl), spit, dirty talk. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. 4.3k

Isagi's room is just as you had pictured it in your imagination. The walls are decorated with soccer posters, of some anime with rather colorful characters and of some soccer players you vaguely recognize from having seen them on your phone. The bed is impeccably made, with a navy blue bedspread that matches the two pillows perfectly lined up on top. Next to the bed, a nightstand holds a stack of comics and manga that you fail to identify until you get close enough. In front of the bed, a wall-mounted television is connected to a playstation, ready to be used.

The room, in general, is surprisingly tidy, almost too tidy to be Isagi's. The thought that he probably cleaned neatly because he knew you'd be staying over tonight brings a smile to your face. Throughout your relationship, you had always met at your place or at the hotels he stays at when you visit him out of town, so to be here, in a space that is entirely his, sends a tingle through your stomach that stirs the hunger of your curiosity.

As you flip through the monochromatic pages of one of the manga, you hear the sound of his footsteps approaching down the hallway. The floorboards groan under his weight, and your heart pounds, as if you've been caught doing something wrong. A smile spreads across your face as you see him standing in the doorframe, his silhouette blocking the light coming in from the hallway, giving him an almost cinematic air.

Isagi mimics your smile, mirroring it as he closes the door behind him and steps into the space you now share. It is at that moment that you notice the subtle scent of sandalwood wafting through the air, permeating the atmosphere. The room, completely enclosed and with thick curtains blocking the outside light, has maintained this scent throughout the day.

"What do you think, then?" asks Isagi, with a slight tension in his voice that makes you wonder if his heart is beating as fast as yours.

Isagi's parents turned out to be even more charming than you had imagined. His mother insisted on adding another dish to dinner, even though you had offered to cook for everyone; she even offered to help you wash the dishes, while Mr. Isagi and your boyfriend continued chatting in the dining room a few feet away.

The feeling you are left with is one of warmth and comfort, like a warm blanket wrapped around you after a long winter's day. And that's what you're trying to express, albeit in a simpler, less corny way.

"…I'm happy to have finally met them," you conclude sincerely.

Isagi, who has just hung up his jacket in the closet and is now wearing only a shirt and dark sweatpants, walks up to you and wraps his strong arms around your waist. With the manga completely forgotten, your hands find rest on the back of his neck, and out of instinct, you start stroking his hair. Isagi visibly relaxes at your loving touch.

"'Yeah? I think they really liked you, I was nervous," he says, laughing softly.

"Really, you thought they wouldn't like me?" you tease as Isagi closes his eyes, enjoying your touch.

"Quite the opposite. I thought they might like you more than me," he replies, meeting your eyes again, causing a sparkle to tingle up from your belly to your ribs.

"Your mom is so nice, and your dad is so cool. I think it's adorable how they support you."

It's obvious how proud they are of their son, how far he's come. That was reflected in every topic of conversation they had tonight and in the way their eyes sparkled at the sight of him. Deep down, you're relieved to have their approval, too.

"I had no doubt they would like you. My mother loved the dessert you made too, you're cooking so much better every time."

Isagi guides you towards the bed, interrupting the conversation. He lies down first and invites you to join him with a few pats on the mattress. You crawl onto the bedspread, which stays perfectly in place despite the movement, and lie comfortably on the arm he has extended for you.

"I'm gonna stay all weekend," he says, playing with the silver "I" dangling from your neck. Your eyes instantly light up, and Isagi struggles to contain a mischievous smile that threatens to appear at the corners of his lips.

"You hadn't told me," you murmur, controlling the excitement in your voice. "I thought you had to leave tomorrow."

"'Yeah, I wanted to surprise you." His fingers fiddle with your collarbone and the line of your neck as he says it, only to finally focus his full attention on you.

He watches your reaction closely, delighted that he got this reaction in person, knowing it wouldn't be the same if he'd told you about it over the phone. Then, he leans toward you and kisses you softly on the lips, a fleeting kiss after which he doesn't pull away, allowing you to become drunk on the fresh, woody scent that surrounds him.

"We could go out tomorrow, maybe invite your parents over again and…" you start to suggest, but Isagi interrupts you with another soft kiss that instantly makes you close your eyes. Your hand rests on his chest, feeling his heart dance against his ribs, as his palm rests on your waist.

"I'd love the idea, but right now I don't wanna do anything but hold you close."

The physical contact instantly ignites your skin, and the tone of his voice alerts your senses to what might be coming. But you're still curious to explore more of his space, so you add, "Your room…" he chuckles, probably guessing what you're going to say next. "It's very organized."

"Does that surprise you?" Not really, but the attention to detail does. Everything looks impeccable, you know he's put a lot of thought into it. "I've learned a few things about keeping my place in order with Barou."

"Oh, yeah, you guys were roommates before."

"Uh huh. He wanted to kill me when he found my shoes where they were not supposed to be, or my jacket on the couch when I got home late from training."

You laugh at the mental image of an angry Barou chasing Isagi with his shoes in hand around the apartment, though you remain aware of Isagi's touch, of how his fingers gently trace lines on the skin of your stomach, which your now somewhat disheveled top reveals.

The room is enveloped in a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint whisper of the fan on the ceiling. You've settled into his chest, with his heartbeat providing a steady, soothing rhythm that almost lulls you to sleep. Yet your eyes roam the room with a newfound curiosity, lingering on details you had previously overlooked, as if you want to unravel a little more of what this space can reveal to you about him.

Near the door, the closet remains ajar, revealing a glimpse of its interior. The shirts are lined up with almost millimeter precision, but it's the bottom corner that captures your attention. Between a pair of worn sneakers and a backpack that has seen better days, a cardboard box with worn corners peeks out, partially hidden.

Your curiosity piqued, you sit up slightly, trying not to disturb the moment.

"What's that?" you ask quietly, pointing to the box with a slight nod of your head.

Isagi follows the direction of your gaze and sketches a shy smile, as if you've found something he'd forgotten. "Oh, that… it's just a box with some old things, souvenirs and such."

His answer is simple, but his tone piques your interest even more. You slide gently from his side, the mattress emitting a slight creak under your weight as you stand up. " Can I see it?" you ask, wariness mingling with growing curiosity.

Isagi chuckles softly, shaking his head with a mixture of resignation and amusement. "Sure, but there's not much, really."

You make your way to the closet and kneel down in front of the box. You carefully pull it out, surprised by its unexpected weight. You place it on the floor in front of you and, as you lift the lid, a rush of nostalgia seems to flood the air.

Inside, you find a variety of objects: a pair of soccer tickets yellowed by time, photos of a younger Isagi alongside friends you don't recognize, and a scarf of his favorite team, still vibrant in its colors. There's a small trophy, probably from some school competition, and a keychain that looks like it was purchased on his first major trip away from home. Each object seems to be loaded with history and meaning, as if they were pieces of a puzzle that together reveal the essence of who he is now.

Your fingers stop on one photograph in particular, where a teenage Isagi smiles broadly, holding a ball with his hand raised in victory. Beside him, a childhood friend embraces him with the same energy. The happiness on his face is so genuine that you can't help but smile too.

"This is adorable," you say, holding up the photo so Isagi can see it from the bed.

He gets up and comes over to you, sitting down next to you on the floor. "That was a good time," he comments, his voice laden with nostalgia as he takes the photo from your hands to look at it more closely. "We won that match by sheer luck, but it was one of the best days of my life."

Your attention is diverted to another object in the box, a small notebook with worn edges. You delicately open it, finding inside scribbles, small drawings and notes that Isagi probably wrote when he was a teenager.

"You've kept all this for how long?" you ask, fascinated by the amount of memories he's accumulated.

"Since forever, I think," he replies, laughing lightly. "I'm not one to usually hold on to the past, but some things are worth keeping. I like to remember them from time to time."

You close the notebook and put it back in the box, feeling like you've just discovered a side of Isagi you may not have been fully aware of. As you do so, something else at the bottom of the box catches your eye. It's the thick edge of what appears to be a red book. Curiosity leads you to slide your fingers along it and pull it out for a better look. The objects on top offer resistance, but without giving up, you manage to pull it out.

"Oh," Isagi murmurs as you realize that it's not a book you've pulled out, but a stack of magazines that, under the light of the bulb, reveal their true nature.

"Yoichi?" you ask, covering your mouth with your hand to contain the laughter bubbling in your stomach while at the same time showing the magazine in his direction.

"Fuck." His cheeks flush red, and you've never seen him so nervous. Immediately, he tries to snatch them from you, wrestling you with the box in between.

"Let me see them!" you laugh, louder this time, enjoying the rare sight of seeing him so distressed.

"Stop, it's embarrassing! Don't open them!" he insists, desperate, as you try to wriggle away from him, the porn magazines now scattered around you.

In the struggle, his foot buckles and he loses his balance, falling on top of you and crushing you to the floor. Your hands are trapped above your head, imprisoned, and the magazines fall open, revealing their stained pages beside you.

" Can I explain?" he says, his voice trembling between embarrassment and nervous laughter.

"Well?" you ask, biting your lip to keep from laughing again.

You watch him as he struggles to find the right words, finally giving up with a sigh. "It was a gift from a friend."

"And you kept them?" you ask, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Well, yes…" he mumbles.

You laugh again, not because you're judging him, but because seeing him so grief-stricken over something he tried to hide, but which is really no big deal, is adorable. It's rare to see him in this state of vulnerability, and you can't help but enjoy his discomfort a little. Your laughter grows with his fingers starting to tickle you, and your eyes fill with tears as you beg for mercy. Finally, Isagi pulls away, sitting back on his heels, victorious as the air from the fan ripples his hair.

"It's okay, check them if you want. I'll go pee, but don't touch anything else until I get back," he says, his voice tinged with faux authoritarianism.

His words only fuel your desire to explore more. You sit back down, the magazines now forgotten on the floor, as you scan the room for something else you might discover. But finding nothing that captures your attention, you momentarily give up, remembering that you probably have missed messages from your mom asking how dinner went. Your phone, deep in your pocket, had died halfway through dinner.

"Babe, where's your charger?" you yell, heading for the nightstand. You open the drawer and what you find is more than you expected. It's a treasure trove, exactly what you were looking for to piss him off even more.

"Fuck me," Isagi mutters from the doorway, his tone a clear sign of resignation.

"A fleshlight?" you exclaim, completely shocked. There's not even any intention of joking now. "I didn't think you were the type to use toys… I thought you didn't like them."

Isagi advances towards you quickly, but you hide it behind your back just in time. He stops, measuring his next steps.

"It was a joke," he explains, his voice laden with embarrassment.

"What kind of joke?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Isagi shakes his head, trying to organize his thoughts. "The guys thought it would be funny. It was a 'joke' because… well, because I was a virgin and stuff. Now, give it to me."

Isagi takes a step forward, but you step back, finding yourself pinned against the bed.

"Did you use it?" you ask, your eyes full of genuine wonder as you try to keep your cool.

Before you can run away or have time to react, Isagi advances towards you with the speed and precision he only shows in the field. His eyes, tinged with a deep blue full of determination, bore into yours, revealing an expression you have rarely seen, a mixture of defiance and desire. Effortlessly, he manages to lay you down on the mattress, his weight taking you prisoner as he reaches for the object hidden behind your back. He teases you again with tickling, and new tears of laughter form in your eyes.

"Fine! Fine, I give up! But first…" you say with a chuckle, noticing how he raises an eyebrow tentatively, as he pulls away and is completely seated on top of you, you notice small beads of sweat forming a crown on his forehead. "I need to know if you've used it."

Isagi licks his upper lip, his heart beating rapidly. He shouldn't feel embarrassed, but there's something uncomfortably intimate about admitting it in front of you, as if crossing an invisible line.

"Yes," he replies simply, his voice barely a whisper.

"Thinking about me?"

The room is plunged into a thick, tension-laden silence. Isagi looks at you, his eyes roaming over every detail of your face.

"Yes," he confesses, his words full of honesty. You lick your lips, struggling to keep your breathing under control.

"What were you thinking?" you ask, your voice low, barely audible in the charged atmosphere of the room.

Isagi takes a moment before answering, his eyes scanning yours for any clues. Finally, he leans in a little closer, his face close to yours, and in a barely audible whisper, he answers you.

"I was thinking about you… riding me, then me fucking you sideways, toying with your clit. Fuck, I remember it so clearly," he says, his voice deeper, charged with a mixture of desire and vulnerability you've never heard before.

The confession leaves a shiver running across your skin, and for a moment, the air in the room seems to grow thicker, heavier. His words, so simple yet so loaded with meaning, make you feel a mix of emotions. All you can do is look at him, contemplate this man who has somehow become so essential to you, so intimately tied to your life that imagining a future without him seems impossible.

"I want to see you use it…" you whisper, your words full of desire, stripped of any trace of teasing. The question hangs in the air, waiting for his answer.

Isagi takes a shaky breath, and you can feel his hips push against your abdomen, letting you know exactly what he thinks about the idea. The tip of his nose brushes against yours in an intimate gesture, but then he stops, reluctantly pulling away.

"Okay…" he sighs with resignation. Though you lick your suddenly dry lips now, and silently moan at the loss of his warmth when he pulls away, your skin begins to tingle with anticipation. Before you, your boyfriend peels off his shirt in one fluid motion, dropping it carelessly to the side. The sight of his naked torso, bathed in the soft light of the room, makes your heart pound, building anticipation and tension in the air.

"Do you have any lube?" you ask, your tone anxious, straining to keep your eyes fixed on his and not on the noticeably tight bulge under his boxers as he finally strips out of his pants.

Isagi gives a slight nod of his head, gesturing towards the bedside table. "If you'd looked a little harder, you would have found it right next to that… thing."

A smile tugs at your lips as you hear him refer to the toy that way, reminding you that, while he's not completely comfortable with the idea, he's willing to experience something new just because you've asked him to. Quickly, you lean over to the nightstand, pushing aside the charger and other items, until your fingers find the bottle of lubricant. You take it and return to bed with excitement pulsing through your veins.

Your legs are folded and wedged between his thighs. You watch anxiously as he holds himself with his hands on the mattress, his back slightly arched back. The sight of the tangle of hair peeking over the edge of his boxers distracts you for a moment, intensifying the desire growing between you both.

"Take it out," you ask, flashlight in one hand, lube in the other.

"You take it out, I thought it was you who wanted to play."

The response makes you bite your tongue, so he was going to make you work for it, you conclude. Good. You set the objects aside and ask him to lift his ass up so you can fully pull his boxers out of him, his free cock bouncing gently on the spot. He was completely hard and you want to tease him about it, comment to him that if he doesn't like the idea so much why is he so hard, but you know he's been thinking about it probably before dinner and that, if he were to toss your panties aside he'd realize you were just as needy so you let it go for now. Just for your own good.

It throbs as you feel your determined hand approach with the bottle of lubricant. You drop a generous amount at the tip, watching as it slowly slides to the base, its viscous texture catching the dim light of the room. Deftly, you reach for the liquid just before it touches the mattress, catching it with your fingers in a precise gesture.

Isagi shudders under your touch, a tremor running through his body more from the warmth of your touch than the coldness of the lubricant. The sticky sound of your hand sliding up and down now accompanies the soft murmur of the fan, creating an intimate symphony that fills the space you share.

You stroke him just a little before taking the toy, Isagi grunts as you press it to the tip, he thrusts his hips up to receive you when you finally slide it down disappearing his cock completely. You dare to give it a few pumps, taking note of every reaction.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," he replies with his eyelids half drooping and his jaw clenched.

Tentatively you give another deep thrust, the lewd sound of the toy filling the room with its wet, provocative echo. Then, you pull it out completely, and you can't help but watch as his cock drips pre-cum mixed with the lube, creating a tantalizing gloss on the tip. Isagi moans at the lack of attention, his voice laden with need, but it doesn't take you long to re-wrap his cock with the plastic, resuming a rhythm you know he loves.

"You're doing such a good job…" you murmur, fascinated as you watch him lose himself more in the moment, clearly surrendered to the pleasure you're giving him.

You liked it, you must confess. The power it makes you feel to see him like this, it was just like when you were masturbating him, he could reason, but for some reason there's something different about using a toy in between, the whole new scenario has you in a thick cloud of frenzy, your movements speeding up, determined to make him cum. His brow furrows, his lips part.

"Yes? Do you like being in control?" asks Isagi, his voice husky with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

You just mumble something inaudible, caught between the intensity of the moment and the proximity of his body. Before you can add anything else, however, Isagi rises, his movements fluid and confident. His hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping it firmly as he draws you closer, his lips only inches from yours, like a promise of an approaching kiss. "You like fucking me?"

"Yeah… fuck, I wanna watch you cum."

"Do it. Fuck me harder, cmon. Use me."

With both hands on your cheeks, he traps you in an intimate kiss, a heady mix of lust and love. His lips move urgently over yours, his tongue tangling in yours as his teeth gently punish your lower lip. Isagi's moans grow louder, each one charged with desire, as he inevitably nears climax.

"I'm not cumming…" he growls. "Not anywhere else but in your pussy."

Before you can react, Isagi takes your hand firmly, pushing the fleshlight aside. With a fluidity in his movements, he gently lays you down against the bed, his body pressing against yours. One hand rests on your neck, the touch warm and reassuring, while the other descends to your clit, caressing it in slow, long circles. The air becomes thick with anticipation and desire, each brush igniting your senses and leaving you breathless.

"No more games." The determination on his face is exhilarating, it has you throbbing and clenching around his fingers stretching you.

In a moment, Isagi gets rid of your bottoms and underwear and spits on his hand to wrap his cock with saliva, his hips exerting weight on your thighs open you wider for him and then you feel the tip part the walls of your pussy, your mouth opens slightly.

"There's nothing like this pussy."

Then, with one precise movement, Isagi slides inside you, so deep it takes your breath away for an instant. The sensation fills you completely, eliciting a choked moan in your throat. He doesn't move fast, but begins to roll his hips, creating a friction that makes you shudder. At the same time, his fingers continue to torture your clit in slow, deliberate circles, sending waves of pleasure that make you arch your back, letting the moment consume you completely.

"I'm almost there… but I need you to cum with me," he gasps.

You can only nod in desperation, begging him wordlessly to keep up the pace. But, without warning, Isagi pulls out, wrenching a frustrated moan from you before you can protest. With almost ruthless precision, he flicks your clit with the tip of his cock, drawing an unexpected cry of pleasure from you. Then he lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder in a new position that allows him to go even deeper. Without further warning, he begins to thrust hard into you, the rhythm now brutal, as if he is determined to bring you to the edge of your orgasm. Each thrust is a promise broken and fulfilled at the same time, a movement that seeks both his release and yours, as you feel yourself collapse in shared ecstasy.

"There's nothing like this fucking pussy," Isagi murmurs between clenched teeth, his voice laden with desire as his lips land on your heel with a sweetness so intense it leaves you breathless. The contradiction between the brutality of his thrusts and the tenderness of his gesture makes you feel dizzy. "Lets cum together, baby."

His words sound like a request, but his raw passion, along with the strokes that spread throughout your body, feel like a command you can't refuse, even if you wanted to. Your back arches, and an electric current runs down your spine, tangling in your insides and exploding in an explosion of colors like fireworks. A few thrusts later, Isagi is chasing you, cumming inside you as he showers you with praise and how good you always are to him.

"That's my girl, there you go," he says sweetly as he kisses your throat, moves up to your jaw and concludes on your lips with tiny kisses that he scatters all over your face, tickling you.

"Stop!" you laugh as he gently bites your cheek for the sole purpose of teasing you.

"Don't run away from my kisses, c'mere!" Isagi squeezes you against his arms, from which you can't escape, as he continues to shower you with kisses and nibble you gently in every corner he can reach with his teeth. He doesn't stop until you surrender in his arms and kiss him back as you tousle the sweaty strands of his hair.

"Let's take a shower and go to sleep," you murmur sleepily. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, let's do that," he says, giving you one last kiss on the lips as he squeezes your cheeks.

"Maybe we can use the toy aga—"

"Don't even think about it."

#wr #wr.isagi #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut

900 notes · View notes

bonelyheartsclub · 3 months ago

Text

♡ Blue - Valentine's One-Shot ♡

Written by @/justsamwich

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The day was surprisingly warm for late winter, but neither you or Blue minded. It meant that you could drive with the windows down, and while the wind didn’t allow for much conversation, the quiet was a comfortable kind that put you at ease. It was a good thing, too. Although they hadn’t said anything about it directly, Blue seemed pretty nervous when you picked them up for your photoshoot. Your gps chirped at you, indicating that you were getting close to your destination.

“I know you want to keep this photoshoot as much of a surprise as possible, but do you mind at least telling me what I’m supposed to be looking for so I can park?” You asked, looking over at the skeleton just long enough to give him a reassuring smile. Blue blinked, startled out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, I… Probably should have thought of that.” He admitted, cheekbones a bit flushed. He sat up a little straighter in his seat, looking around. “We’re headed to the park- well, okay, not the park, cause we passed that a while ago, but there’s a bigger one that’s got a lot more… Stuff.”

“Right, stuff.” You mused. Blue rolled their eyelights in response, but their smile remained in place. “Sorry, sorry. I was just teasing. I think I see where I’m supposed to be going now, thank you.” You turned off of the street and into a surprisingly massive parking lot for a park. Blue was right about there being more to do. As you parked, you noticed nearby signs pointing towards a few museums, a theater, and something called a holiday village..? Before you got the chance to ask anything, Blue was out of the car, unloading whatever it was that they’d packed into your back seat.

“What are you waiting for?” He called, barely contained excitement lacing his voice. You laughed a little to yourself as you climbed out of the car. Seeing him, you paused. In his arms, he held a basket where you’d been expecting his camera equipment. Upon closer inspection, it looked like he was wearing a backpack- maybe he’d packed it into that..?

“Is this a prank?” You asked, raising a brow at the skeleton. They laughed a bit, shaking their head.

“No, no! It’s not a prank- I just thought it might be nice to have lunch together before we got started?” He seemed nervous again, fidgeting with the handle of the basket. The sight was a bit endearing, and you gave him a nod.

“That sounds really nice. Thank you for putting it together, that was so thoughtful.” Blue cleared his throat, shifting the basket to one hand so he could take one of your hands in the other.

“It’s no trouble, really. You know I’m always happy to spend time together.” Blue said, leading you through the park to find a spot for your picnic.

For as large and as robust as the park was, it looked like a fairly slow day. You could see a few other people making their way around, most of them clustered by what you assumed was one of the museums. That’ll be nice, you thought, Blue can get better pictures that way. Your thoughts were interrupted shortly after, when you noticed that your companion was staring. At some point, he’d finished laying everything out, and it seemed like he had been trying to get your attention.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” You admitted, sitting down beside the skeleton. “I didn’t know we had something like this in the city- how’d you find out about it?”

“Oh, I got hired to take some wedding pictures here a while back.” They explained, passing you a plate before readying his own. The food they'd brought along was light, but delicious. “I poked around online, hoping maybe it was haunted or something- and there are a few rumors! But really, nothing all that exciting.”

“That’s a shame,” You hummed, “I would’ve loved to hear the ghost stories. You always tell them the best.” The compliment seemed to boost Blue’s ego a bit, as they puffed their chest out proudly.

“Well, I suppose I could tell you a few later, since you like them so much. But first… here.” Blue dug through his bag, passing you a carefully wrapped gift from inside. “It’s a human holiday today, right? I read that a lot of people will get their partners gifts.”

“Blue, that’s sweet of you. Thank you…” You looked down at the gift, a twinge of guilt eating away at you. You’d been so excited about the photoshoot, you hadn’t even realized it was valentine’s day. “I kinda forgot about the holiday, I’m sorry. I didn’t get you-”

“Don’t worry about it!” Blue reassured you, his smile as bright as ever. “I’m just happy to be spending time with you. I was planning to give this to you anyway, honestly.” His words placated the guilt inside you, and left in its place was curiosity about whatever it was he’d gotten you. Eagerly, you tore through the wrapping and unveiled… a photo album?

“Ooh,” You admired, opening it up and flipping through the pages. “Wait, these are…it’s us.” The album looked a bit more like a scrapbook now that you had it open. A collection of memories the two of you had shared starting from when you’d met. Alongside the photos he’d carefully compiled, there were receipts, little hand drawn doodles, and wrappers. His attention to the details made you wonder just how long he’d spent on it, and- and the last few pages were empty? You gave him a puzzled look, which earned you a laugh from the skeleton.

“I figured we could fill the last few pages together,” They explained, starting to dig through their backpack again. “I doubt we’ll fill them completely today, but I brought these so we could start.” Blue held out a pair of polaroid cameras. You recognized one of them- the older of the two, as you’d seen him taking pictures with it a few times.

“When did you get another..?” You trailed off. He got the point, given that you were, well, pointing at the second camera.

“I’ve had my eye on it for a while, and Stretch ended up getting it for me as a Gyftmas present.” Blue answered, setting aside the older camera to properly show off the new one. “This one lets you adjust the aperture and shutter speed manually, that way you can really control how much light you’re letting in- which affects depth of field and exposure.” You weren’t sure you understood everything they were saying; they seemed happy, though, so you were happy.

“That’s really cool, Blue.” You chimed in, “It sounds like we’d better get this show on the road.” Blue nodded, and with your meal finished there was little else to do but pack everything back up.

“We should, but I think we have time to drop this stuff off back at the car real quick.” He agreed, picking up the basket again. “‘On the road’ is a good choice of words, though.”

“What does that mean?” You questioned, getting only a cryptic smile in response as Blue loaded the basket back into your car. “I don’t think I should be trying to take photos while I drive.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you won’t be driving, isn’t it?” Blue retorted, passing you the older of the two cameras. “They offer photo tours here! By rickshaw, which I’ve seen a lot but haven’t actually tried. I thought it’d be fun!”

“That’s the bicycle-cart-thing, right?” You looked over the camera he’d passed you, raising it to your face to peek through the viewfinder. “They do seem fun. Are we meeting them somewhere, or..?” They stepped into the frame of your shot with an amused grin, pointing up ahead. You took the opportunity to snap a photo. After collecting said photo, you finally looked up to see that Blue had been pointing at. Waiting there for you was a fairly well built person on a bike, and attached was your little cart.

“Shall we, cutie?” Blue asked, offering you one of his arms. You giggled and took his arm with a nod.

“I can’t wait!”

Once the two of you were properly settled and moving along, Blue took the chance to explain how the camera he lent you worked. A good bit of it you’d expected- you had a certain amount of film, there were different settings depending on the lighting, and so on. He also explained a few tips and tricks to get the most out of the tool in your hands, things like helping you adjust your framing or composition, and using modes for more than what you’d assumed to get different effects. Oh, and of course- he stressed the importance of not shaking the polaroids. Repeatedly. Loudly.

They’d only just finished by the time you’d arrived at your first stop: the botanical garden. It looked like a giant greenhouse, large glass panels laid in a deep green metal frame, slowly being overgrown by creeping ivy on all sides. It was just as beautiful on the inside, completely draped in greenery from all over the world. They seemed to be organized by climate and watering needs, which created distinctly different scenes from one section of the garden to the next. Blue wasted no time in starting to snap photos, and you followed his lead.

“Ash would probably love something like this.” Blue mumbled, pausing to read one of the placards posted throughout. He seemed so lost in thought, he didn’t even notice when you took a photo of the moment. Altogether, the two of you spent around fifteen minutes or so snapping photos and exploring together before heading back to ride to your next destination.

The afternoon sun reflected beautifully off of the pond you’d stopped at next, bathing whatever was closest to it in a pretty golden light. As the two of you disembarked and got closer to the water, you could see a myriad of wildlife teeming inside. Most notably, there were a bunch of koi fish who certainly weren’t shy about greeting visitors. You laughed a little as you knelt down to look closer, a sight that Blue just couldn’t resist capturing on film.

“They kiiinda look like overgrown goldfish.” He teased, kneeling down beside you. You gasped and placed a hand on your chest, feigning offense.

“They do not! How could you? They are clearly their own fish, and so are goldfish!” You corrected. Blue laughed.

“Weeellllll…”

“Well, what?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at the skeleton. They raised both hands defensively, giving you a sheepish look.

“Technically, goldfish and koi are both species of carp, so…” They shrugged. “Sorry to burst your bubble on it, cutie.” You smirked. He may have won the battle of fishy facts, but you’d just won the war. As soon as he saw the look or your face, he realized what he’d done.

“Burst my bubble?” You teased, doing your best to sound innocent.

“Nooooo…” He groaned, covering his face. “That wasn’t on purpose! So not fair!” You laughed, taking a photo to commemorate your victory forever. Though maybe for Blue’s sake, you’d keep this one to yourself.

Your time at the koi pond passed quicker than you’d expected, and before long the two of you were headed towards the final stop on your little tour. Blue draped an arm over your shoulder as you enjoyed the ride, and you leaned your head onto their shoulder.

Just as you’d started to relax, a gazebo came into view, tucked away in a lesser traversed section of the park. It looked old, overgrown like the garden had been- though instead of ivy it looked like a thick, flowering bush of some kind. Blue helped you down and led you inside the structure. From the inside, it felt serene. The light was dimmer as it filtered through the leaves, and the air around you felt nice and cool.

You were breathtaking. Well, if Blue had breath, he was certain you would have stolen it in that moment. He cleared his throat a little, gesturing for you to move ever so slightly so he could capture you in just the right way. You sat on the railing and gave him a small smile, and with a simple click, the photo was taken.

“Thank you for today, Blue. It’s been… stars, you’re perfect.” You mumbled a little, thoroughly flustered. After your comment, Blue was in a similar state.

“You don’t have to- I mean, if anything I should be thanking you. For all the memories we’ve gotten to share- for all the new ones I’m excited to make! I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side.” They looked down at the camera in their hands. “I just… I found out about the holiday and thought that this might be a good way to show you that.”

You melted a little, walking over to pull him into the tightest hug you could manage. He returned the gesture happily, and soon the two of you were back to taking pictures. In fact, you were more determined than ever to finish the album. That way, the two of you could start a new one together.

All too soon, your photo tour came to an end. You were a bit saddened as you climbed into the car, but that feeling disappeared as soon as Blue pulled out the bags containing the pictures you’d been taking. You took turns comparing photos, showing off the ones you were proudest of, and deciding which ones should go into the album.

“You took so many pictures of me.” You realized, parsing through a few that he’d already shown you.

“I was about to say the same thing, actually.” He held up a few of yours, all featuring your partner. There was a moment or two of silence between you before he snickered, and after that the floodgates were open. You laughed with him for a few solid minutes, leaning over onto each other. As soon as Blue could regain their composure, they sighed happily.

“Well, there’s only one way to fix this,” He said, reaching for the camera he’d been using. He turned it around to face you, carefully adjusting to get you both into the frame. “Come here.” He laid his free arm over your shoulder as you leaned in, and just as you smiled for the photo, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and took the picture.

“Blue!” You gasped, laughing a little. The skeleton seemed all too pleased with himself.

“You know, I think this one is probably going to be my favorite.”

#bhcmyvalentine25 #bhc #bonely hearts club #valentines day

186 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

Text

Wolfsburg

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You finally make it

After a few years at Barcelona, winning everything there is to win and getting married along the way, you leave the club.

It sends ripples through the community.

You got your start at Linköping, playing minimal minutes there but enough that you got Arsenal's attention. From Arsenal and your World Cup performance, you got Barcelona's attention.

A loan at Lyon and your subsequent contract extension and return, had everyone thinking you would stay at Barcelona for a lot longer. But you see out your contract, get married and decide to move again.

You and Talia were somewhat of a power couple at Barcelona. One at the front, one at the back. Barcelona was safe when the two of you were on the pitch.

But now you're leaving.

When you were younger, still a teenager, all of your contracts and the subsequent discussions went through Magda and Pernille. They had to sign off on them.

Now, they don't.

The announcement that you're leaving Barcelona happens in the winter. The club says that you aren't renewing your contract and that they thank you for your service.

Within hours, the community is in uproar from fans to players.

There was never any indication that you wanted to leave, you hadn't even told Magda and Pernille you weren't going to stay.

But you play out the rest of the season, showing everyone that Barcelona is letting you go begrudgingly. You are still leaps and bounds ahead of the second-choice keeper so clearly the club weren't the ones making the decision to let you go.

That's when the rumours start.

Practically every big club in the world has put out feelers for you.

There's a campaign on Twitter to get you to return to 'home' to Arsenal and another one saying that Linköping is attempting to get you back.

Familiar with you and your play style, Lyon tries to tempt you.

You get several lucrative offers from NWSL teams that you push away instantly. You have no ambition to play in the American league.

Lots of English teams try to snatch you up, Chelsea in particular but you reject their offer with a laugh. Manchester City and Aston Villa both send you fairly good offers and even Liverpool tries their hand to sway you.

The Bayern Munich coach is also very vocal with his plans to get you to come to Germany.

The funniest offer comes from Real Madrid as if they could tempt Barcelona's star keeper to dress in white.

Either way, there are so many rumours and so many choices that no one can quite predict where you'll be playing your football next season.

Then, on the first day of the transfer season, the video drops.

It zooms in on a picture of Pernille's Bundesliga winning team. She's holding the trophy proudly in one arm and you in the other. You're beaming at the camera in your own Wolfsburg jersey.

'Welcome Home' the caption proudly proclaims and the video cuts.

You step out from the shadows, the camera zooming in on the Wolfsburg badge proudly on your chest.

Magda keeps watching the video but Pernille sits there in shock.

You don't have to tell them anything. You don't have to tell them where you're going and what you're doing but Pernille is still blindsided as everything suddenly makes sense.

There were so many rumours and so many questions but Wolfsburg had never been apart of it.

Pernille feels stupid now that she thinks about it.

You'd told her once that you'd only consider leaving Barcelona for one team.

She feels crazy now for not knowing your plans just by the silence.

"Was it a nice surprise?" You ask, arms crossed as you lean in the doorway.

"You kept that quiet," Magda says with a laugh.

You shrug. "The clues were there if you just looked."

With so many big and small teams clamouring for you, it did look a bit suspicious now that Wolfsburg was radio silent on the idea of getting you from Barcelona.

"The jersey," Pernille says, sounding a little choked up as she stands," It looks good on you."

You smile at her, a small thing as she crosses the room to cradle your face in her hands. "Of course it does. It's Wolfsburg."

Pernille can still remember your first Wolfsburg jersey. You were tiny, still a baby and were more interested in sucking on the collar than looking at the camera Pernille was using to capture the moment.

But you'd cried when she tried to change you out of it. You cried and sobbed and screeched until Pernille put you down for your nap still wearing it.

You'd had a collection of Wolfsburg shirts as you grew up. They were without a doubt your favourite team, the only team you were willing to move away from your wife for.

You had never been anything but complimentary about Wolfsburg.

It shouldn't be a shock but still, as Pernille looks at you, she can't help but see the little baby you used to be, wandering around the Wolfsburg training centre in your shirt and shorts.

She can't quite reconcile that version of you with the version of you now, the greatest goalkeeper in the world by a mile.

You have quite the resume of great teams. You have so many medals and trophies and awards.

And now you finally get to play for the team that you've loved since you were a baby.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

499 notes · View notes

sparks-and-smoke · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! Could I get a fic about Bucky accidentally finding the reader’s Christmas gifts to him? Maybe he tries (and fails) to act surprised?

Thank you (ps I know it’s after Christmas, sue me)

Aww~ I don't care that it's too late for the holidays. It's cute! Merry Christmas (belated)

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader (code name honey)

Content/Warnings: none it’s just goofy holiday fluff

Author Note: merry late Christmas, this may or may not be loosely based in the Fate Stone AU I have brewing. (which since you are my beta reader ;) you already know about it.)

You are a notoriously bad gift giver, Bucky had been warned many times. He didn’t really care. As long as it came from the heart it couldn’t possibly be that bad. He could put up with socks or a cheesy mug as long as it came from you. But this was worse, so much worse.

“Sam, I don't even know what to do with it.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands, confiding in the only other person he knew that wouldn’t immediately tell Honey. “Can I be honest here, it’s hideous.”

Sam was keeping a pretty good poker face over his mug poker but the situation was undeniably funny. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” But Bucky’s mortified face said it all. “Why were you spying on her gift away?”

“I didn’t mean too! Necessarily. She hid it in the bottom of the closet, man. She didn’t even hide it well... I’m a spy, I notice things. Plus it was pretty hard to miss.” The blanket had been tucked away in the back of the walk-in closet under a few other things. But the obnoxious colors of the corner peeking out from under the folded jeans had caught his eyes. They didn’t own anything in orange. Anything.

His honey had gotten him a blanket, which would normally have been so very sweet seeing how Bucky hated being cold, but it wasn’t just a blanket. It was one of those viral blankets, the ones that are loosely based on 70’s rock band merch with lighting and thunder clouds rolling in the background. It’s featured pictures of Alpine, every goofy spastic picture of the cat that his girl could find with her name in the boldest font Bucky had ever seen. Honestly it hurt his eyes, and as Bucky went about describing it to Sam the other man damn near fell out of his chair.

“That is perfect. No really I think she might be a genius. I’m gonna need a video of you opening that one.” Sam goaded.

“You're not helping.” Bucky growls, guilt twisting in his guts like a worm, but Sam was too busy laughing to try and give a shit. “How am I gonna act surprised now? Let alone be excited?”

“I don’t dude, I guess you need to start taking an acting class.” Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.

~~~~

Bucky watched with crinkled eyes as you opened your gifts from him. A nice wool winter coat because all you owned was a puffer, and while it was adorable on you and always kept you warm you always said you wanted something dressier for date night. And in your stocking an assortment of your favorite treats, skin care you were low on, and that perfume that you had been drooling over since October but always talked yourself out of because of the price tag. Bucky had been making a list since your birthday, keeping tabs on what you lingered on in stores and what you sighed at as you scrolled. He knew his girl and he knew her well. And the way you lit up with every item told him he hit it out of the park.

“Do you like it Honey?” he asked, his chin propped on his hand. His face couldn’t have been softer or voice more full of love as he watched you glow with joy.

“I love it. How did you even know what eye cream I use?”

“It wasn't that hard doll.” Bucky laughed, it sits in a clear box on your vanity of course he knows.

“Here! Open yours.” You hand him his stocking and the present wrapped in pretty silver paper, looking so excited you may vibrate across the floor. He plastered on his best game face as his stomach did a little flip. Do not ruin this for her Barnes.

He starts with the stocking. Pulling out body wash and a cologne scented with that smoky bourbon and apple scent you were fond of, along with a small batch roasted coffee and some new gloves. So far so good, and he made sure to kiss you. “I love it honey.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t opened your big one.” you say with a twinkle in your eyes that makes him wanna melt into the floor. Should he tell her, confess he saw it? Risk it and pretend he loves it?

“You’re right I haven’t.” he corrects himself with a smile picking up the package. It was instantly heavier than he remembered and as he tears open the package he has a brief (very guilty) moment of hoping that maybe he was wrong…

But no there it is. That hideous blanket that he knows instantly from the look on your face he is gonna end up snuggling under for the rest of time just to see you smile the way you are right in this moment. He opened his mouth to tell you thanks as genuinely as he could muster but honey was already biting her bottom lip. A fit of giggles falling out of her. “You already saw it didn’t you!” she managed to get out between chitters.

“What?! No- I…”

A pillow from the couch flew at his head. “I knew you would. You little sneak, you do this every year!” Honey chastised as Bucky dodged another swing with the pillow.

“Hey! Whoa!” Bucky's arms go up in a weak attempt at blocking her little onslaught. “I didn’t mean too!”

“Bullshit James Buchanan!” thump, a hit to his ribs. “You did it on your birthday.” Whack, a bump to the top of his head. “You somehow sniffed out the tickets I bought to Coney Island.” one more swing but this time Bucky caught the pillow, pulling you into his lap with it.

“I did not do it on purpose!” he defended, but he was beaming. Eyes crinkling in the corner as she glared playfully. “I didn’t!”

“Yeah, you just somehow stumbled upon the blanket I hid under the laundry in the back of our closet.”

“I was looking for my coat!”

“On the ground?”

Bucky was caught, because yes he had been looking. He always did. The man couldn’t help it, he always was just too curious. “Yea, I thought so you little rat! Do you like it?” she asks earnestly. And Bucky feels that gnawing feeling again, trying not to let it show on his face.

“It’s… super fluffy.” he tries to deflect, hating to lie to honey, but her face is already breaking into a grin. What the hell?

“You hate it.” she beams. “It’s hideous huh?”

Bucky frowns, slouching back in his chair. Did she want him to hate it. “Uh, yeah it is..”

“Good thing it’s not your actual present huh.”

Bucky's eyes narrow. “You little-” She did this on purpose, hid the most outrageous thing she could find just to punish him for spoiling presents. Clever girl. Weeks of fretting over how he was gonna pull this off and SHE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. With a giggle honey climbs off his lap and back behind the couch, pulling out a slim package from the cavern behind, and Bucky’s face nearly splits in half.

“Here. Merry Christmas.” She offers him the parcel with a kiss, sitting in his lap as he unwraps it, and he feels his heart flutter a little. It’s a scrapbook. Full of pictures of him, her, Alpine and their friends. Taken by everyone who has known them the last few years. There isn’t a lot, he doesn’t like taking pictures, preferring to take them. So she must have scoured their friends' phones to find all of these and Bucky can feel tear picking the backs of his eyes. Good tears.

“Thank you Honey. I love it. I love you…”

#voice-of-velhart #bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Sparks picks up

282 notes · View notes

reveluving · 6 months ago

Text

remember forever ; benny miller x reader

summary: the first snow for a family of three!

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, minor explicit language but overall, very soft!

a/n: really happy to see how much Garrett content I got to share this year, and hopefully way more to come! I can't thank y'all enough for showing so much love, especially my Garrett girls!! I ain't done with him, not especially after making an entire masterlist for him hehe! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about both fall and winter specials this year? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! ❄️'!

'The photos were simple, with hints of uncertainty and shyness here and there, but it made you all the more you, and the bits of snow covering you made you all the more enchanting.' ;

The wonderment in your eyes upon gazing at the falling snow was a sight Benny had to take a photo of.

Multiple, actually, knowing he’d have it saved in his phone, slot it in his wallet, in his bedside—whatever.

Just anywhere he could have you in any way close.

But if watching his sweet wife admiring the winter wonderland blanketing the neighbourhood wasn’t already a sight to behold, then he would definitely die from seeing her with the baby boy in her arms, cooing at the snowflakes around him.

To say that you and Benny looked forward to your son’s first snow together was a major understatement, and just when you thought you were ready to see him all snug in his first winter clothes, oh, you were solely wrong.

If cuteness could kill, you and Benny were pretty sure you would’ve died in each other’s arms right then and there.

It took everything in Benny not to stare at the two of you longer than he already did, needing to set up the camera on the tripod. His kid was no more than a year old, looking like the cutest cub in his thick bear-knit onesie, plus matching mittens and boots gifted by his brother.

Besides Will’s, Bubba had plenty to wear for the days to come in the winter wonderland, thanks to his uncles, Frankie and Santiago.

It had been an hour since Bubba cried, unused to the cold sensation that may have tickled his sensors a little too much when you brought him out the first time.

Now, the baby was doing great. Greater than great, even, occasionally staring at the bits of snow attached to his mittens and even your jacket with such curiosity.

Ah, how proud he was of his baby boy.

Plus, with the pretty morning lighting, how could you and Benny not decide it was the right time to take pictures together?

And he didn't want to waste any more time, eager to take photos and determine which should be framed and/or be in the family photo album.

Or hell, why not both?

“Hey,” He jogged over to you, his heart fluttering at the way you and Bubba lit up so similarly, “Got the tripod.”

You grinned, “Nice. I was thinking of taking it here, so it'll see all three of us in front of–”

“Ah-ah,” He stopped you, “Not before I take yours first.”

Just yours. It was tradition, after all.

You pouted because of course he would remember that, watching him set the camera on the tripod before outstretching his arms.

“C'mon,” He said with a shit-eating grin, “Just a few.”

Lies.

You fondly rolled your eyes but passed Bubba to him anyway. The toddler, ever the mama's boy, was already grumbling, making grabby hands for you. Benny was two steps ahead, though and quickly took a squeaky rattle out of his pocket, squeezing it in front of the boy to grab. Bubba, perking up at the sound, took hold of his toy, already biting down on the soft fabric irresistibly.

With Bubba distracted in one arm, Benny adjusted the camera to focus on you.

Still, you knew Benny meant well if the way he treasured photos of you were something to go by. You shook your head in amusement, then posed and smiled for the camera.

The photos were simple, with hints of uncertainty and shyness here and there, but it made you all the more you, and the bits of snow covering you made you all the more enchanting.

But there were also candid ones; when you'd wave and catch Bubba’s attention, Benny would immediately take continuous photos of your blinding smile upon seeing your son bouncing in his father's arm, shaking his rattle at you.

Then, he took photos of both you and Bubba together.

“Bubba, bubba, over here, bud!”

Seeing his father waving wildly immediately caught his attention, and it only took seconds before he recognized the funny man, gurgling excitedly as he squirmed against you.

You and Benny shared a laugh, and as if struck by a burst of affection, you cuddled into Bubba’s back, feeling him wriggle uncontrollably at the ticklish sensation as he giggled, and your husband couldn’t wait any longer.

Immediately after Benny set the timer on, he rushed over, muttering a ‘shit’ when he slipped on ice before standing next to you. Your body trembled as he held you, still holding back a laugh after witnessing what could've been a disaster, and Bubba was no better—babbling and shaking his toy upon having his father up close.

The sight before him was just all too cute, and Benny, despite the camera, couldn't help but kiss your cold cheek. And as the camera clicked, Benny knew this picture in particular would be framed in your living room.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: something short and sweet for our one and only before the end of the year, and more to come in the next! p.s. look at that gif :,(( LOVE HIM ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#— reve's reverie 🌹#reve's quirky reverie 🕷#hubby benny hubby benny hubb-#AND DILF!BENNY <3333 #benny miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x female reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund x reader #you still reading this? good #'cause i got ONE more garrett piece for quirky reverie hehehe

170 notes · View notes

ilguna · 5 months ago

Text

☼ borrowed time (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; finnick made sure you made it out of your games alive, and now its time to pay back the favor. all good deeds come with a price.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, injuries, blood mention, ehh gore, death, the usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 11.8k

It was a sunny August morning when you were first officially introduced to Victor’s Village, two years ago. The mayor’s secretary had been designated to give you a tour, and to explain how the house would work, now that you were a part of the community.

“Unlike some of the other districts,” She began. “Four likes to keep their village neat and green.”

She motioned to the grass, which had been so healthy and bright that it almost looked artificial. The flowers in bloom were designated to beds with bricks. There was a cement fountain, and as you grew closer, you could see just how clear the crystal water was.

When you peeked inside, you found coins sitting at the bottom, as if the victors in the village regularly made wishes.

“You don’t have to worry about upkeep, though. We have a groundskeeper for that. If you have any issues or you see plants that are beginning to go, he needs to be notified immediately.” She said, continuing down the path. “The Capitol likes our garden the most, we frequently have photographers come to take pictures for their magazines.“

“Why?” Your mother asked.

“Because we’re one of the nicer districts.” The secretary told her, going up the steps to a house. “We’re here.”

A hand was then placed on your shoulder, as your father went to move around you, to head in first. The secretary held out her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s customary that the victor enters first. It’s her house, after all.”

“It’s our house.” Your father said back.

“No, it’s hers. If she were to die tomorrow, you would be moved out the same day. Come, (Y/n).” She said.

You followed her instructions, despite knowing how your father felt about control and being the head of the house. You went up the staircase, to the front door, where she encouraged you to open it. After living in a small house, barely scraping by with every paycheck your parents earned, you could finally sleep in peace knowing that your home wasn’t going anywhere.

When you opened the door, it was like opening a new chapter to your life, a new beginning. There wouldn’t be a need to look over your shoulder, to worry about how your life would turn out. It was solved. You won the Hunger Games.

The house was nice for the first month, before your family decided that they hated you. They didn’t like the circumstances in which you had been given the home. And they would rather be far away from you, in the house you’d grown up in, where you were no longer welcome.

Now, you live in a place that sits cold, still and quiet. Despite it being a beautiful summer day, there is a weight that sits on this house. It came when the Quarter Quell had been announced in the winter, and it hasn’t left since. As if you’d forget what would be coming for you in a few months.

How could you, though? President Snow read the card live in front of the entirety of Panem without an ounce of hesitation. He told you that victors would be reaped this year. Everyone heard it, and it’s been echoing in their minds since.

Especially you, considering for the past couple of days, you’ve done nothing but weigh the pros and cons of going back inside of the arena. It would not be for the fun and the honor of having a second title. It would not be for the benefit of more money, which had originally pulled your family out of a dark hole they were desperate to leave.

If you were to volunteer today, it would be for the family you found after you won and your family had abandoned you. It would be for the woman who showed you the love you should’ve received from your mother. For the girl you see as an older sister. For the boy who mentored you, and saved you from becoming just another tribute face from Four that didn’t make it.

There has been a lot of talk among the District Four victors about who would have to be the two tributes to go inside. There isn’t a lot of room for conversation regarding the boys, but the girls are a different story. No one can agree on who it should be, it’s a hard decision to make.

And a decision that shouldn’t be made at all.

Which is why you have gotten closer and closer to making up your mind about being the female tribute for the Quarter Quell. If it’s not you, then it’s Mags, and she shouldn’t have to go back inside. She won over sixty years ago, she doesn’t know how vicious the arena can be, and her body won’t be able to handle the excursion.

And from what you heard, Finnick is supposed to be the male tribute. He’s agreed to volunteer, not that anyone has any real opposition. But that means he’ll be taking care of Mags inside of the arena, which can slow him down and get killed.

While you, on the other hand, can help him. You won recently, your body is still in shape, you can keep him alive. The same way he kept you alive when you needed him the most.

You’ll be paying back the favor by doing this, making sure he gets out of the arena alive so he can come home to Four, where he’s loved the most.

It won’t be easy, but it’s what has to be done.

You step out of your house, pulling the door shut quietly behind you. As soon as the sun touches your skin, you begin to sweat. The July heat in District Four is no joke, if you spend too much time outside, you’ll get sunburnt. And there is no affordable remedy for those who are living at the bottom.

As you leave the village, you eye the houses, half of them barren like yours due to the reaping. Everyone else has already left, they made no effort to be quiet. You would’ve gone with the group, if it weren’t for the fact that you wanted more time alone to think, before you were forced to be on camera.

The journey to the Justice Building starts alone, but the closer you get, the more people appear, coming together to walk in a crowd. Except, it doesn’t matter how thick it gets, because no one comes close to you, giving you space. A halo.

Once you get close to the stage, most of the people disappear to go to their designated spot. While you get to continue forward, to the Peacekeepers, who are awaiting your arrival. You can see the other victors have made it, standing in groups on the stage, making you the last one to arrive.

The Peacekeepers don’t need your name, they recognize your face. They move aside when you’re close, allowing you to pass. You head up the steps one at a time, taking deep breaths. The cameras will be on soon, or maybe they already are, hungry to catch the reaction on your faces.

You half-expect the regular row of chairs on the stage when you make it to the top of the staircase, but you’re met with something new, different. Usually, there’s a long row of chairs, and the victors of Four sit in the order of which they won. With you joining two years ago, it makes you the chair on the far right, one after Annie. While Mags is the first chair on the left, since she’s the oldest surviving victor.

Well, this year there are no chairs. There are two pens on opposite sides of the stage, one for the female victors, and one for the male victors. Just like how it usually is for the teenage boys and girls of the district. However, they’re allowed to intermingle for this reaping, considering they’re not the ones going to be chosen.

You wander to where Finnick is, with the few other male victors. He’s got his attention set on Annie, who’s being comforted by a few of the other girls. He breaks away to look at you, eyebrows already raised.

“It took you a while to get here, everything okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I was just clearing my head.” You tell him, moving your hair out of your face. “Is Annie…?” You trail off, letting him assume what you were going to ask.

His face drops a little. “She’s having a hard time standing in the ropes, it’s bringing her back.”

“Does she know the plan?”

Finnick nods, eyes finding the ground. “Yes, and I think that’s what’s making it worse.” He clears his throat. “Mags is going to volunteer.”

“Wasn’t that always what she was going to do?” You ask, not bothering to correct him. Mags will try to volunteer, and fail, because you will move faster than she does. But that will only work if you’re not the one picked out of the bowl.

“Yes,” Finnick murmurs. “I wish it didn’t have to be her.”

You open your mouth to speak, but a voice calling your name cuts you off, causing you to look over. It’s your Capitol escort, motioning for you to join the rest of the female victors. She taps the empty spot on her left wrist to tell you that it’s almost time for the reaping to start.

“You should go. She’s been pretty anxious this morning.” He tells you.

“I’ll see you later.” You tell him, leaving.

You join the others, who hold the rope up to help you slip underneath it easier. Mags places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to make eye contact with her so she can check on you. With her, you almost never need to tell her how you feel, she can see it. It’s nice most of the time, but right now, she might see something different, more than just sorrow.

“Your family?” She asks, speech slurred.

“They didn’t come to visit.” You tell her, causing her to frown. You shrug, “I didn’t expect them to, anyway. I wouldn’t have let them in the house.” You give her a smile. “Besides, you’re my family, Mags.”

She touches your cheek with the back of her hand. “My daughter.”

The Capitol escort then appears, “They’re going to start in less than a minute. You’ll be on camera, do not make a scene.”

She then hurries to the boys side to give them the same warning. You wonder if these are her instructions, the mayors or Snows. You can only imagine what will happen to those you love if you were to step out of line and say something they don’t want you to.

Although, at this point, you have nothing to lose with your family. They’re out there, somewhere. You can’t find them in the sea of faces that watch the stage. A part of you knows they’re waiting to see if you’ll get chosen so they can swallow up your home. Since you won’t be there to occupy it and tell them no.

You have a feeling that the other victors of Four might tell them to leave, but they might be too caught up in the Quarter Quell to care. If only you could get the chance to tell them, yourself. They lost the right to be in that house when they decided you were a monster for fighting for your life. What else were you supposed to do, die?

Before your thought can continue, the mayor comes up to the podium, causing the citizens of District Four to hush. They listen as he tells the history of Panem, like he does every year. The speech only takes a couple of minutes. When he’s done, he reads the names of the past District Four victors, ending with you.

The escort, Chesna, replaces the mayor at the podium. She places her hands flat on the podium, a habit she started after Annie won. It was like she finally realized the impact the Games had on the survivors. Or so Finnick says.

“Happy Hunger Games,” She speaks smoothly, not an ounce of excitement in her tone. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” There’s a moment of silence. “We will start with the gentlemen.”

Chesna moves away from the microphone, heading to the glass bowl to her right. It’s not entirely unusual for her to start with the men first, sometimes she likes to change the order. She says that it keeps things exciting in the Capitol, and it keeps her from being replaced.

As much as Snow likes order, he can appreciate unpredictability on occasion. Chesna doesn’t push her limits.

She stops in front of the table, reaching her hand inside for one of the few papers that sit at the bottom. She stirs them, giving everyone a fair chance, before picking one off the side. She carries it to the podium, where she carefully unfolds the paper.

Her shoulders fall, “Finnick Odair.”

In the matter of seconds, his life has changed. And so has your mind, solidifying your decision. No one will volunteer for him, and no one does. He steps out of the pen, taking a few steps forward to stop behind the glass bowl his name was just picked from.

He looks over, meeting your eyes, and giving you a nod.

“Now for the ladies.” Chesna says, voice quieter.

She takes Finnick’s paper with her to the girls bowl. She repeats what she did for the boys, sticking her hand inside, stirring the papers, and then picking one from the middle. She pulls it out, takes it with her to the podium, and then unfolds it.

There’s a pause for a few seconds, you can hear her take a breath through the microphone. Your heart begins to beat in your chest, morbidly curious if your luck is so bad to allow you to get picked twice when given the opportunity.

“Annie Cresta.”

There’s a scream from beside you, coming from Annie. You wince at the pitch and intensity, right in your ear. Mags reaches over to comfort her, probably before she officially volunteers. This is her mistake, because it gives you the perfect window without having to rush to do it.

“I volunteer.” You speak, just loud enough to get Chesna’s attention.

She turns, eyes landing on you. “You volunteer?”

“Yes, I volunteer.” You tell her.

A hand grabs your arm, squeezing tightly. You turn to see that it’s Mags, who seems to have forgotten about Annie. She’s sobbing into her hands, either out of horror or gratitude that the female victors of Four would come to her rescue.

Mags taps her chest, face screwed hard, shaking her head at you. Disappointment. This is not how she wanted the reaping to go. She wanted to be the one to go, to protect the girls she sees as her daughters. This was not part of her plan.

“I’ve got this.” You tell her in a quiet voice. “Trust me.”

Her lips are pressed in a thin line, unhappy. She lets you go, you step over the rope and head to your spot behind the bowl. Chesna turns back to the microphone.

“Our tributes this year are (Y/n) (L/n) and Finnick Odair.” She moves back, away from the podium to allow the mayor to wrap up.

All he does is read the Treaty of Treason before turning in your direction, motioning for you to shake hands, keeping custom. You turn to Finnick, and find the same expression that Mags had, on his face. You hold out your hand, he takes it.

You shake once, sealing your fate.

—

“Let’s take a break.” Katniss suggests, looking between the three of you. “I need to get another look from above.”

Finnick gives her a nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He briefly looks at the wetness on his thumb before rubbing it off on his jumpsuit, shaking his head.

It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s thinking, because you have the exact same thing on your mind; it’s hot.

And this is coming from a pair of people who are no strangers to the heat. There have been countless times where District Four has almost broken its own blistering record. Which shouldn’t be possible. You can feel it the most in the summer, especially if you’re out there working on the water.

While golden tans are common, so are deep sunburns.

The arena is a different type of heat, it doesn’t have the dryness you get back home. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s humid, partially due to the jungle, partially because you’re trapped in a giant terrarium. Between the saltwater lake, the luscious greenery and the white hot sun—you’re being boiled alive.

There’s nothing you can do about it, either. The shade provided by the tall trees and the giant leaves are no relief from the temperature. You’re stuck dealing with wet hair and sticky skin.

It doesn’t help that you can’t find any water.

This is what Katniss will look for while she scales the tallest tree. It’s on all of your minds. You watch her wedge her toes and fingers into gaps in the bark, pulling herself up. Once she reaches the branches, she disappears, moving quicker.

This leaves you, Finnick and Peeta to enjoy each other’s company. The four of you have been running away from the Cornucopia for over an hour, trying to get distance from the Careers. You’re thirty, and you’d do almost anything for a glass of cold water.

”How’re you feeling?” Finnick asks, leaning against a nearby tree. He’s got his trident gripped in his hand loosely, tired of carrying it.

“Better.” Peeta says, rubbing his legs. “The more we walk, the less stiff I feel.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t die.” You tell him, shaking your head.

It took you all by surprise when the sparks flew after he hit the force field with his machete. For a second, you thought he might’ve swiped at a rock, and you were briefly impressed before he got thrown back, knocking you all down.

“I’m lucky you’re our allies.” Peeta agrees, motioning at the gold bracelet on Finnick’s wrist, referencing Haymitch.

He got a bracelet, while you have nothing to show. Finnick has done everything in his power to make it clear to everyone that you’re following his lead. You weren’t meant to volunteer, Mags would never have been so cruel to agree to it beforehand.

Haymitch listened to Finnick, despite the many times you asked him to include you on the rebel plan they were figuring out. He never did. He told you he has enough on his plate with Katniss and Peeta, the last thing he needs is another teenager to protect.

He didn’t necessarily call you Finnick’s problem outright, but he definitely heavily implied it.

You’ll take it for now, but you have a feeling you’ll be more help than they could’ve imagined, later on down the line. You’re an extra pair of fighting hands, while Mags would not have been. And anything she can build in a moment's notice, you can too. It’s not an exclusive skill.

Besides, you don’t think Finnick actually wanted to bring Mags into the arena, he knows what would’ve inevitably happened. There’s less risk with you. You can keep yourself safe, and more importantly, him.

“We wanted to be allies from the beginning, but Katniss has more of a…” You trail off, looking into the trees, trying to find the word, “Cautious palette.” Your eyes land back on Peeta. “With others our age, that’s not really the case. Besides, Finnick can come off strong.”

Finnick scowls at you, mostly because you’re undermining him, but Peeta lets out a sigh and nods. “I think Katniss will come around to that, though.”

“We hope so.”

The rustling of leaves overhead halts the conversation, causing you to look to make sure that it’s Katniss coming down the tree, and not some jungle bird. She’s carefully lowering herself, one arm length at a time. Peeta stands at the base, hands outstretched to catch her, just in case her hand slips.

She makes it though, landing on her feet in the grass. She brushes debris off the front of her jumpsuit before turning to face you. “The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don’t know how high it goes. There’s the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large.”

“Did you see any water?” Finnick asks.

“Only the saltwater where we started the Games.” She answers, shaking her head.

“There must be some other source,” Peeta frowns. “Or we’ll all be dead in a matter of days.”

“Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere.” Katniss suggests, but she doesn’t seem all that convinced, herself. “At any rate, there’s no point in trying to find out what’s over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing.”

“There has to be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel.” You insist.

Collectively, the four of you agree to head back down the slope a couple hundred yards, still circling to see if you’ll come across water. Katniss leads, determined to come across something. By midafternoon, it’s clear you have to stop, because all you’re doing is exhausting yourselves.

Finnick decides he wants to keep close to the force field, so Katniss takes her time to make a hard line in the spongy dirt to ensure no one gets close enough to accidentally hurt themselves. Peeta goes around nearby trees, digging in the grass to collect nuts, which Katniss initially refuses to let him eat.

It isn’t until you’re allowed a closer look, are you able to tell them that they’re fine and the nuts are edible. You can’t place your finger on what kind they are exactly, all you remember is your time in the Training Center a couple years ago. You took the time to memorize every little detail you could for a forest arena, because that would be your biggest bet to survival.

Since you’re able to identify the nuts, Katniss lets Peeta continue to gather them. He even goes on to roast them by bouncing them off the force field. Once he’s done, he peels off the shells one by one, placing the meats on a large leaf.

Katniss guards, walking around occasionally, wiping the sweat from her face. You sit at the base of a tree, near Finnick, plucking long leaves from jungle plants to weave mats. They’re hard to get started, but once you get a pattern down, it’s pretty much smooth sailing from there. Before you know it, you’re working on your third.

“Finnick, why don’t you stand guard and I’ll hunt around some more for water.” Katniss suggests, shaking her head.

“You want to go off alone?” Peeta asks, lips pressed together.

“It’ll be faster that way.” She reasons. “Don’t worry, I won’t go far.”

“I’ll go, too.” He says, starting to move to get to his feet.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows. “I won’t be long.”

“Stay within shouting distance.” You tell her. “I’m a quick runner.”

Katniss nods, and then heads off into the trees. It’s fairly quiet between the three of you, besides the sound of nuts singeing. You keep a careful eye on Finnick, watching how far he goes, when he hesitates to move away.

You want to tell him that there’s no reason to patrol just yet. The bloodbath is still going on, meaning a majority of the tributes are fighting for their lives. And if you do run across anyone in the jungle, there’s a seventy percent chance they’re an ally, rather than some district that got left out.

More importantly, the Careers aren’t going to be out here roaming quite yet. If you were him, you’d be saving your energy. Especially since the more he paces, the more he sweats out the water he drank this morning. You all have a better chance at sitting it out right now to see if the heat dies down before wasting your energy on meaningless tasks like guarding.

The real challenge will come tonight, when you’ll wish you could be sleeping, but you’re flinching at every little noise instead. True paranoia comes out in the dark. You remember what that was like.

It has to be another hour before the first cannon comes through, causing your fingers to freeze in place so you can listen properly. They come one at a time, making it easy to count, until it finally stops at eight.

Your hands lower to rest in your lap as you turn to look at Finnick, who has his eyes set on you. One-third of the competition has been taken out already, and you won’t be able to know who for a few more hours.

“Sixteen left.” Peeta murmurs.

Neither of you say anything back to him.

After making a few mats out of the grass and leaves, you begin to tie them together to form one large hut. It has three walls, a floor and a roof. You’ve made it just big enough to fit three people in it at a time, assuming that one of you will always be on watch.

When you’re done, Peeta asks if you’ll make him bowls, which you agree to. They’re small and easy to put together. He fills them with handfuls of the nuts he’s been roasting, setting them aside for later.

With nothing else to do, you offer for Finnick to lay down in the hut while you take watch, but all he does is give you a look before turning away. It’s cold of him to do, and it would mean more if you didn’t know that it won’t last long. Once he’s exhausted, he’s going to look to someone else to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta.

You’ll let him think that he can wait until you’re with Johanna and Blight, two people who are older and more responsible. You know better than that. As soon as the sun goes down, he’ll feel the effects of the day, including the heat, and then he’ll be asking you to take over.

The sound of rustling leaves causes all three of you to turn toward the noise. It’s only Katniss, bow on her shoulder, carrying something at her side. She shakes her head. “No. No water. It’s out there, though. He knew where it was,” She says, holding up a skinned rodent for you to see better. “He’d been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn’t find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius.”

“Can we eat him?” Peeta asks.

“I don’t know for sure. But his meat doesn’t look that different from a squirrel’s. He ought to be cooked…” She trails off, you press your lips together.

You all very well know the danger of lighting a fire in an arena. It’s like waving the white flag. You’re going to signal to everyone that you’re here. Sure, you could probably get some time with a fire before they show up, but it won’t be worth the effort of putting it together. Besides, it’s so hot in here that sitting next to one will be torture.

Peeta has a different idea, though. He has Katniss cube the meat, and then he skewers it on the tip of a pointed stick. He lets the stick fall into the force field, causing the meat to sizzle. It’s black on the outer layer, but upon pulling the meat apart, it’s well cooked on the inside.

It takes time for Peeta to char each chunk of meat, but by the end, the four of you are hungry. He takes his bowls and joins you in the hut, allowing you to start. You take turns on the meat, since it’s in such scarce quantities. As for the nuts, you take handfuls and pop them into your mouth.

While you eat, Finnick has many questions regarding the animal—which they settle on calling a tree rat. How high it was, how long did she watch it for before killing it, and what it was doing? She tries to make her answers detailed, but she honestly doesn’t remember the tree rat doing anything that stood out. It was just climbing on the trees, snuffing around.

The sun sinks into the horizon, bringing on the night. The conversation between Finnick and Katniss fizzles out as you gather at the mouth of the hut to watch the sky. It brightens when the Capitol seal appears, and in the far distance, you think you can make out the notes of the anthem.

The first face to appear in the sky is the man from District Five, the one that Finnick killed at the Cornucopia. This means the tributes from Districts One through Four have made it out alive. All four Careers, Wiress and Beetee, and obviously, you and Finnick.

The next is the morphling addict from District Six, then Cecelia and Woof from Eight, both from Nine, the woman from Ten, and the woman from Eleven. The Capitol seal reappears in the sky with the ending notes of the anthem, and then the sky goes dark. Only the moon remains.

There’s a moment of silence after. You close your eyes, hands flat on your knees as you take a breath. Cecelia and Woof are a tragedy, especially to you. You know—knew—both of them very well. You met Cecelia while you were mentoring for the first time, and she provided a lot of insight for you. As for Woof, she talked about him a lot, how he was one of the reasons why she did so well in her Games, even at his age. You were happy to meet him this year, even though you knew what would be coming.

If Mags had come instead, she easily could’ve died like Woof. Finnick would have done everything in his power to make sure it didn’t happen, but it would’ve been a possibility regardless. Nature will run its course, no matter what you do to step in the way of it.

You open your eyes.

A silent silver parachute appears in the air, landing at the feet of Peeta. No one immediately moves to grab it.

“Whose is it, do you think?” Katniss asks after a few seconds.

“No telling.” Finnick says. “Why don’t we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?”

Peeta lets out an amused breath. He unties the cord, flattening out the circle of silk. In the center sits a small metal object, unfamiliar to you. Your face twists, you look at Finnick to see his reaction, and find it just as quizzical.

“What is it?” Katniss asks, picking it up off the cloth.

She turns it over in her fingers, examining it, feeling every inch of it before passing it to Finnick, who does the same. He passes it to Peeta, who finally hands it to you. It’s a metal tube, tapered at one end. On the other end is a lip, a tunnel, that curves downward.

Peeta blows air through it to see if it makes noise, it doesn’t. Finnick sticks his pinky in it, testing it out as a weapon, ridiculous.

“Can you fish with it?” Katniss asks, looking at you.

You shake your head. “It’s not anything I’ve seen before.”

Katniss rolls it back and forth on her palm, thinking to herself. She stares off into the trees, making various expressions. She wipes the sweat from her face, holding it out in the moonlight. No matter how many angles she looks at it from, it makes no sense.

She lets out an irritated sigh, jamming one end of it into the dirt. “I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out.”

Katniss stretches, laying down in the hut, staring at the metal object in the dirt. Peeta massages her back. You slide out, wanting to stand up. Finnick watches as you take a few steps away, knife in your hand. You cross your arms, looking down at him with your eyebrows raised.

He shakes his head at you.

Less than a minute later, Katniss gasps. “A spile!” She says, sitting upright.

“What?” Finnick asks.

Katniss grabs the object, brushing the dirt off. She holds it up to the light again, running her finger over the lip. “It’s a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out.” She lowers the object and looks at the trees around her. “Well, the right sort of tree.”

“Sap?” You ask.

“To make syrup,” Peeta clarifies. “But there must be something else inside these trees.”

They get up at once, eyes wild and eyeing the trees, which must have water in them. Finnick plucks the spile from Katniss’s hands and goes to hammer it into the green bark of a large tree with a rock, when she stops him. “Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first.”

You reach into your waistband, grabbing out one of the smaller knives you don’t mind parting with. Peeta takes it, and gets to driving it into the tree. He takes turns with Finnick opening up the hole. Once it can hold the spile, Katniss carefully wiggles it in, and then takes a step back.

The four of you stare, waiting for something to happen. It takes almost a full minute for a single drop of water to come rolling out of the tube, dripping off the lip. Katniss goes to readjust it, changing angles, which allows a thin stream of water to begin to come out.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the sight of water. You each take turns drinking from the spile, desperate to combat the amount of sweat that has been leaving your body these past few hours. When you finally step away from your turn, coughing, you head to the hut.

There’s a bowl with a few nuts still sitting inside, so you shake out the meat onto the flooring, and then head back to the spile. It’ll be easier to drink out of a bowl, you’ll be able to take in more after it’s been filled. The others back off long enough for you to get it halfway full, which is when thirst takes over again, and you begin to take several gulps.

Once drunk, the bowl is refilled, and the water is used to clean the sweat off your faces. The water’s warm, a disappointment, but when a breeze blows through, it cools your skin. When your thirst is quenched, you return to the hut, sitting inside with your knees pulled to your chest.

Everyone is clearly exhausted from the workout of hiking through the jungle all day. Katniss pulls the spile from the tree and ties it to her belt using a thin vine. She then comes to join you in the hut, with Peeta and Finnick following close behind.

“I can take first watch.” Finnick says, fiddling with the trident in his hands. “Let you get some rest.”

Katniss nods, no arguments coming from her. She and Peeta curl up together on the left side of the hut, leaving the entire right side to you. You and Finnick have a staring contest for a long while, and right when you go to tell him to wake you when he’s tired, he turns away and leaves.

“I’ll take next watch.” Katniss says without rolling over.

“I’ll wake you when I’m tired.” Finnick tells her.

You grit your teeth and hold your tongue. Katniss is younger than you and less responsible, but he doesn’t have an issue with her taking watch? You swear he’s completely backward.

Either way, you take the opportunity to sleep. It doesn’t take very long, with the sound of Finnick shuffling through the grass, and the insects in the background. The background noise lulls you to sleep in the matter of seconds.

And you’re woken just as easily a few hours later by the sound of a bell echoing through the arena. You jerk into an upright position, knife in hand, squinting into the darkness. Finnick is a few feet away from you, paused and listening.

When it stops, he turns to face you and Katniss, the only other two awake. Peeta has slept through the bells entirely. “I counted twelve.” Finnick says.

Katniss nods, agreeing. “Mean anything, do you think?”

“No idea.” You murmur.

You wait in silence for an announcement that never comes. You’re just beginning to relax, when a sparkling bolt of lightning strikes a tree across the arena. Thunder cracks, you jump at the intensity, wincing.

“Go to sleep, Finnick. It’s my turn to watch, anyway.” Katniss says.

Finnick makes a face, even gives you a look, but he comes to join you and Peeta inside of the hut. Katniss gets up, loads her bow, and wanders over to a large rock to lean against.

You watch for a few curious minutes as the lightning continuously strikes the same tree, never moving from that one spot. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to remember this, and then suddenly it becomes insignificant enough for you to go back to bed.

A part of you doesn’t allow you to fully sleep. You drift in and out of consciousness, as every little change in noise brings you off the brink. You can hear when the lightning comes to an end, which can’t be more than an hour later, only for rain to start after. This keeps you awake for several minutes, wondering why the rain hadn’t begun sooner.

A cannon goes off, a sigh of frustration leaves you. You turn on your side, clamping your arms over your ears to block any further noises from reaching you. It works for maybe thirty minutes, before your eyes pop open at the realization that the rain has come to a sudden end. All at once.

You sit up, unhappy and groggy. Katniss spares you a glance, but she’s more focused on the trees. It’s not normal for rain to stop altogether, it’ll slowly fade out to a drizzle first. This means that the rain was artificial, started by the Gamemakers. And with how quick the lightning stopped, you’ll even bet that they did that, too…

Suspicious, you open your mouth to speak to Katniss, but the words die in your throat when you watch fog begin to slide in your direction, coming from where it was raining just moments ago. It’s thick and white, and its pace isn’t slowing, it’s steadily coming for you.

Your hand grabs Finnick’s thigh, squeezing tightly as you begin to shake him awake, hard. Katniss doesn’t really move from where she sits on the rocks, watching as the fog comes closer. A sugary smell invades your sinuses, Katniss blinks as if she’s been slapped.

You watch in horror as the fog begins to wrap around Katniss’s legs, she jumps to her feet, “Run!” She screams, which is all the confirmation you need. “Run!”

The fog is engineered.

Finnick snaps awake, on his feet in a single second, trident in hand as if he’s going to defend your camp against an intruder. You fly across the hut to pull Peeta to his feet, but it’s not easy. He’s heavy and half-asleep. It isn’t until Finnick steps in to help, do you need the Twelve tribute up.

You grab Finnick’s wrist, yanking him out of the hut and diagonally downward to the beach, away from every direction the fog comes at you. Katniss and Peeta are right behind you.

“What is it? What is it?” Peeta asks.

“Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!” Katniss urges.

You cover a good amount of ground, occasionally looking back to check on Katniss and Peeta to make sure they’re coming, but they’ve lost momentum. Peeta has to follow directly behind Katniss to watch her feet, but even then, his prosthetic leg is getting stuck in the snarls of roots.

“We’re going to have a problem on our hands.” You tell Finnick, releasing the grip you have on him.

“What?” Finnick asks, pace slowing to see what you mean.

You both turn in time to watch as Peeta takes a hand fall, almost smacking his face on a root. Katniss tries to help him to his feet, but completely freezes as she stares at him. For a second, you’re sure he’s dead, until a spasm runs up her arm, uncontrollably twitching.

“Shit.” Finnick spits, turning to run back to help.

Katniss jerks backward, causing Peeta to stumble again. By the time Finnick gets there to help, the both of them are a mess. Katniss’s arms are out of commission, and every step Peeta takes is chunky and out of character. Katniss has to wedge her shoulder beneath Peeta’s arm to help even slightly.

They make it down another ten yards before Finnick tells Katniss to run, while he carries Peeta. You don’t move from where your feet are planted in the dirt until Finnick is keeping a decent pace in front of the fog.

Together, you travel as far as your legs will allow you. No matter how careful you try to be, the fog manages to swipe at you in several places. Your arms, your legs, up the side of your neck, on the heels of your feet. No matter what you do, you don’t stop moving, pushing past the burning pain in your thighs and calves.

Katniss trips over a root, hits the ground hand, and rolls down a hill. It’s not even thirty seconds later when the same happens to Finnick. Peeta goes flying, Finnick’s entire front half slams into the dirt, and he’s too exhausted to pick himself up. You try to slow your pace to avoid joining them, but your foot tangles in Finnick’s boot.

The impact doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. All your thoughts scramble as you roll several times before coming to a sudden stop. You’re stuck gasping for air, staring into the foliage above, not an ounce of energy left to pick yourself up to keep running.

Katniss mutters out something incoherent, and then clears her throat. “It’s stopped.”

A wave of bliss runs over your body, you close your eyes. You’re not going to die, at least not tonight.

—

The arena’s a clock, and you had a feeling it was something along those lines. After what happened early this morning, you knew the Gamemakers were up to something, there had to be another twist. It couldn’t just be the fact that victors were reaped to be this year's tributes, they had to do something to the arena, too.

You tried telling Finnick about your theory after the monkey mutt incident, but he didn’t want to listen, of course. It wasn’t until you came across Johanna, Wiress and Beetee, did it begin to really click. Especially since Wiress was stuck on loop, repeating, “Tick tock”.

Katniss listened to what Johanna had to say about the rain last night, which had turned out to be blood. Which had her thinking about what you had to say about Gamemaker interference. And with Wiress losing her mind, she pieced it together, herself.

“(Y/n)’s right.” Katniss suddenly said. “The arena’s a clock. And Wiress knows it, too.”

The validation from them was nice, but the look on Finnick’s face was priceless. You couldn’t help the smile you gave him. It was a way to say, “See, I can be smart and helpful”. But you think that irritated him more than anything.

Peeta carefully lays Beetee in the little bit of shade the Cornucopia provides. Beetee calls out to Wiress, causing her to come over and crouch beside him. He passes a coil of wire to her—which he had risked his life to get out of the Cornucopia during the bloodbath—and asks, “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods, and then heads to the edge of the center island to dunk the coil in the water. She starts to quietly sing to herself, some song about a mouse running up a clock. You’ve never heard it before.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, heavily rolling her eyes. She’s had enough of them. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Suddenly, Wiress gets to her feet, ominously pointing to a part of the jungle. “Two.”

You follow her finger, and find that the fog has just begun to creep onto the beach. “Yes, look, Wiress is right.” Katniss says. “It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork,” Peeta says. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, as if she already knows that, and goes right back to singing to herself and dunking the coil.

“Oh, she’s more than smart,” Beetee tells you. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss, causing several heads to turn in her direction.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks morbidly.

“It stops signing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” She says, walking away to look through the weapons in the Cornucopia.

Johanna is right behind her, poking around, overturning boxes. She’s searching for something in particular, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s an axe. She comes up with a pair of them, and launches one at the sun-softened gold of the Cornucopia. It sticks.

Peeta squats on the ground in the sun, using the tip of a machete’s blade to draw a large circle, a smaller circle at the center, twelve spokes, the waterline. He moves quickly, as if he’s been waiting to do this all day.

“Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.” Peeta tells Katniss.

She wanders over, standing over his shoulder to look at his map. “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.” She says.

“Right, so this is the top of our clock,” he says, writing the numbers one through twelve around the circle. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He goes on to write lightning in the wedge it belongs, moving clockwise to add blood, fog and monkeys in the next three sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” Katniss says, he adds it.

Johanna and Finnick join the three of you, curious of what you’re up to. You glance at them out of habit, but have to do a double-take when you realize just how many blades they have strapped to their bodies. Tridents, axes, knives. You think Finnick even has an extra sheath of arrows for Katniss on his back.

It makes you feel unprepared, even though you took your time to select your spread of knives yesterday, during the bloodbath. While Katniss and Finnick were searching the water and fending off the Careers, you meticulously went through every set until you found the one that would be perfect for you. A match made in heaven.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee. They shake their heads, only mentioning the blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing a diagonal line on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.

Everyone nods in agreement, you look out to the jungle, curious on what else could be out there. You’ve just barely scratched the surface…

Your heart seizes in your chest at the sight of a dripping Gloss, sliding his knife across Wiress’s throat. In two jerky movements, you’ve thrown a knife at him, at the same time that Katniss has shot an arrow. While your knife slams into the center of his forehead, her arrow pierces his heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Cashmere running up the side of the island, but before you can even think of grabbing another knife, Johanna has buried an axe in Cashmere’s chest.

You turn, attention focused on Finnick and repaying the favor, when you see Brutus. All you can do is tackle Finnick and Peeta, bringing them both down to the sand, narrowly missing the spear that ricochets off the Cornucopia.

As you get up to follow them, Finnick pulls you back down, keeping you from moving from your spot. You watch helplessly as Katniss runs after the Careers by herself. In quick succession, three cannons sound, one after the other, confirming the three obvious deaths.

Right as Finnick’s grip loosens, and he begins to pull himself upright, the ground beneath you jerks, and you’re thrown on top of Finnick. The island the Cornucopia sits on top of begins to spin, gaining speed with every passing second, turning the jungle into one big blended blur.

You begin to slide through the sand, toward the water, due to the sheer amount of force. You try to save yourself by digging your fingers and shoes into the sand, desperate to hang on to anything, but it barely works. You almost make it to the edge of the island, feeling the mist of the saltwater on your face, when you come to a hard stop.

You pull yourself to your knees, rubbing the sand out of the corners of your eyes, squinting. Katniss comes stumbling around the side of the Cornucopia, using it to hold herself up. From what you can tell, Peeta, Finnick and Johanna have managed to hang on.

None of you move from where you are, trying to catch your breaths and come back to reality. The dizziness begins to subside after a minute, enough to the point where you feel comfortable to be on your feet. The others are quick to follow.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks.

Her question causes you to take a lap around the island, searching the saltwater for the man. You find him about twenty yards out, paddling hard to come back to the group. You shed your knives onto the strip of sand, diving into the water to save him without a second thought.

It doesn’t take long to reach him, and he’s still calm enough to allow you to tow him back to land. There was one time when you were in grade school—one of the younger kids was still learning how to swim. He swam out too far and he was struggling to swim back to shore.

There’s an unspoken rule in District Four when it comes to people drowning, especially children. Even if they don’t belong to you, you go out there and save them. Their guardians could be a foot away, but if your eyes catch them first, then you need to be the one to fish them out.

Anyway, you were clearly the first to find the boy, so you went out there to get him, thinking that it was going to be easy. Obviously, the citizens of Four know a variety of swimming techniques, and you expected this kid to at least know a few. So, when you got to him, you let him grab you, thinking nothing of it.

And you almost drowned because of it.

It turns out that when people are struggling to keep their heads above water, their self-preservation kicks in. The fight or flight response. In this case, he used you as a human ladder to climb himself higher above water, pushing you down in the process. It took another two adults to come and save you after that.

Needless to say, you’re overly cautious when it comes to pulling people out of water, now. You have to be. And with a grown man like Beetee, who weighs more than you, he could push you under and keep you there. It’s a dangerous game to play.

Once you get him back to land, Peeta and Finnick work to help pull him back on the sand strip. You pull yourself up, and ring out what little clothes you have on. After the fog, the suits you were sent into the arena with completely disintegrated. You collect your knives from the sand, and follow the others back to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Katniss is soggy now, too. She holds the coil of water in one of her hands, and the bow in the other. She probably had to pull it off of Wiress’s body. In one fluid motion, she sets it on Beetee’s lap, while he cleans his glasses. When he’s done, he unravels a small bit of the wire to inspect it.

Katniss moves to be with Peeta.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says, adjusting the axe in her hand.

The others grab their respected weapons, and you watch as Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off to three different spokes. Neither you, Katniss or Beetee move from where you stand.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta says. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss informs him.

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of jungle as well.” Beetee pitches in.

Katniss pauses for a moment, “Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

They circle the Cornucopia, inspecting the jungle, looking for a difference in each wedge, but they can’t find any. Katniss mentions something about how the lightning tree was huge and impossible to miss last night, yet now it seems like there’s a tree like that in every slice. Johanna thinks to follow Enobaria’s and Brutus’s footsteps, but they were blown away by the wind when the Cornucopia was spinning.

“I should have never mentioned the clock.” Katniss shakes her head. “Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily.” Beetee says. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta rubs her shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna sighs impatiently. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She pops out a hip, crossing her arms. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

A path is chosen at random, with Johanna leading, and you and Finnick taking up the rear. You look back at the Cornucopia, eyeing it to make sure that what’s left of the Careers isn’t following your group. It’s clear.

“I bet you’re glad that I’m here.” You tell Finnick, who’s walking in front of you. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be injured by now.”

Finnick comes to a dead stop in front of you, turning around to glare. The others don’t notice, continuing down the sand strip. He waits to make sure there’s a distance between you two and them before he lowers his voice, eyebrows turned downward.

“No, (Y/n), I’m not happy you’re here.” He snaps. “Why would I be? I’ve been babysitting you the entire time to make sure you don’t run off and do anything stupid.”

“Who was awake when the fog came rolling in?” You shoot back, face twisted. “And who was the one that tackled you and Peeta to keep you from getting hurt by Enobaria and Brutus?”

“I don’t need you.” He suddenly says, squinting. “In the case that you wouldn’t have been here, Johanna would’ve had my back just the same. I don’t need another teenager to watch over, and that’s exactly what you are.”

“You don’t need to watch over me.” You tell Finnick, “I can take care of myself, and I’ve done just fine this entire time.”

“Wonder why.” He says, his tone sarcastic.

He turns around, going back to following your group.

“You’re going to eat your words, Finnick.” You tell him.

—

You watch as Beetee calls Finnick over to assist him with the lightning tree, continuing with the rebel plan. He crouches down next to the coil of wire, unrolling yards upon yards of it, putting it off to the side, but never detaching it from the rest. While he does this, he has Finnick secure the loose end tightly around a broken branch that he lays on the ground when he’s done.

They then stand on either side of the tree, passing the spool back and forth as they unravel the coil. They spend a good five minutes just aimlessly wrapping it around the trunk before Beetee begins to create a pattern out of where his wire hits. Like it has to be in a certain spot in order for it to work properly.

By the time the wave begins, they’re beginning to finish. Beetee waits for the rumbling of the water in the distance to stop, and then he reveals the rest of the plan that he’s been keeping to himself.

Since you, Katniss and Johanna move quickly through the jungle on your own, he wants the three of you to take the coil down to the center water, unwinding the wire as you go down. He’s very specific when he tells you to lay it across the beach at the twelve spoke, and to swim the coil out as deep as you can, making sure that it sinks when you let go.

After that, you have to run for the jungle.

“If you leave, right now, you should make it to safety.” Beetee finishes, adjusting the glasses on his face.

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says immediately.

“You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” Beetee tells him. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil over to Johanna.

“Remember what happened during the fog?” You ask Peeta, raising your eyebrows.

A small frown comes over his lips, Katniss closes the distance between them. “It’s okay.” She murmurs. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone.” Beetee reminds her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”

Katniss gently cups Peeta’s cheeks with her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, and then turns to face you and Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs. “You two guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

They begin to head down the slope, you hesitate, looking in Finnick’s direction, only to find that his back is turned to you, disinterested. He’s probably just happy that he doesn’t have to worry about you for the next hour. If you had to guess, he had a conversation with Johanna early this morning about keeping an eye on you. And you know she won’t hesitate to ‘put you in your place’ if she sees fit.

It’s an unfair advantage.

You follow behind Katniss and Johanna, knife in hand, keeping an eye on the trees around you. A lot of things need to happen tonight in order for you to reach the goal, which is being rescued out of here. Haymitch has been sending you signals, as he promised, through the forms of district bread. He’s confirmed the day and time several times already, so there’s not a question in your mind when it’s happening.

Tonight, at midnight.

Haymitch has specific instructions to keep Katniss and Peeta unaware of what’s going on, because Katniss has a tendency to overthink and fuck up. And Peeta performs best when he doesn’t know that people are moving around him. In the start, it was yours and Finnick’s job to ensure that they made it out of the bloodbath alive.

Beetee and Wiress were necessary in the long run for the plan to leave the arena. It’s a shame that Wiress didn’t make it, but in the state she was in, she wouldn’t have been much help anymore. Besides managing to confirm what you said about the arena possibly being a clock.

As for Johanna and Blight, they were tasked with finding your group and joining it. They happened to come across the Three tributes in the bloodbath, rescued them, and got stuck with them. Of course, you all came together eventually, but you think if Johanna had joined any sooner, that the alliance would’ve fallen apart.

After all, Johanna had slapped Katniss not even five minutes into their conversation, yesterday.

Anyway, you think Beetee’s trying to cause a blackout with the lightning tree. It’s no secret that the arenas are domes and it’s all a facade. Supposedly, the lightning from the sky will hit the tree, which is connected to the wire that brings it to the water. It’ll fry everything in the center, but at the same time, it should destroy the dome.

All cameras will shut off, the rebel hovercraft will come in, take all of you in, and then take you to… wherever it was that Haymitch and Plutarch had in mind.

In the meantime, while this is happening, the trackers in your arms need to be taken out. More importantly, Katniss and Peeta’s trackers. They will be the first people the Capitol will try and capture, with the rest of you following behind in varying degrees of importance, based on your role.

In theory, this is straightforward and easy. In action, if even one unpredicted event happens, it could screw the entire plan.

“Better hurry.” Johanna says. “I want to put a lot of distance between me and that water before the lightning hits. Just in case Volts miscalculated something.”

“I’ll take the coil for a while.” Katniss says, glancing over her shoulder. “You can take it next, (Y/n).”

“Sounds good to me.” You nod.

“Here.” Johanna says, passing the coil over to Katniss.

Neither of them have let go from the coil, when you watch as the wire vibrates. And then suddenly, it springs back at you. You’re barely able to jerk out of the way before the end comes snaking up to your feet, the wire wrapped in tangled loops and curls around their wrists.

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, which is when your heart starts to pound in your chest. Someone farther up has just cut the wire on purpose, and it’ll be a matter of minutes before they’re here.

Johanna’s eyes dart to yours, and she mouths, “Now.”

For a moment, you’re not exactly sure what you’re supposed to do, until Katniss lets go of the wire, leaving only Johanna to hold it. Just as Katniss begins to load her bow to protect herself, Johanna swings the coil back and slams it into the side of Katniss’s head.

Oh.

Johanna drags a half-conscious Katniss down the slope and underneath a ledge of dirt, where the grass and ferns hide her well in the dark. She sits on Katniss’s chest, knees pressed to her shoulders. There’s not even a moment of hesitation when she slices through Katniss’s forearm, right where they insert the tracker.

The sound of greenery rustling is what breaks you away, eyes narrowing on some dark figures coming down the jungle. You get into a crouch, carefully backing down to be next to Johanna, who’s crushing the tracker against a root. When she’s done, she wipes her bloody hands on Katniss’s face.

“Stay down!” Johanna hisses, getting off of her.

“They’re coming.” You tell her, pointing at the tributes that are getting closer, it has to be the Careers. “Let’s run this way and try to lead them back up.”

“I’ll go first.” Johanna says, just before taking off.

She makes a lot of noise, you think you can even hear Enobaria and Brutus shouting after you two. You try to keep close, but some of her movements are unpredictable, trying to lose your opponents in the darkness of the trees. However, they must have planned for a chase, because you watch Enobaria split off, heading back to the lightning tree.

“She’s going back to the tree!” You shout to Johanna.

“Split off!” She yells back at you. “I got him!”

At the next opportunity, you round a tree and begin to haul ass back to where the other half of the group should be. It sounds like Brutus continues to follow Johanna, so you don’t bother with waiting to make sure she’s okay. She’s got her axe, and she’s one of the fiercest tributes there are.

You’re nearing the tree when the sound of clicking begins—the insects from the eleven sector have come to life. You have less than an hour to gather everyone and get out of the arena alive.

You can see the back of Enobaria’s ponytail swishing, as she breaks through the treeline and goes hurdling to the only person in the clearing. It’s Beetee, the figure is too short to be Finnick.

“Hey!” You shout, trying to defer her attention, but she’s already swung her sword at Beetee, and she’s got him good.

He falls to the dirt, groaning, gripping a spot on his side. When Enobaria turns to face you, the blood at the tip of her weapon shines in the moonlight. She bares her pointy teeth in a sick smile.

“You want a taste?” She asks, coming toward you.

“Bring it.” You tell her.

You let her swing at you, and you deflect her with the blade of your knife, which holds up well under the momentum. You shove back at her, causing her to stumble, giving you enough time to lead her away from Beetee, and back out into the trees.

You don’t go far when a blast of electric air comes through the jungle in a wave. The hairs on the back of your neck stand, goosebumps covering your arms. The last time this happened, Peeta drove himself into the force field, and it almost killed him.

Did Beetee…?

A cannon blasts.

You stop and lunge back at Enobaria, knife aimed for her throat, but she blocks you off, throwing you to the ground. You tumble, and get back to your feet in time to jerk away from her blade, which slams into the dirt.

“Katniss! (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Johanna!”

“Finnick!” You call back, Enobaria glowers.

“(Y/n)!”

“Quick!” You shout back at him, jumping to tackle Enobaria.

She doesn’t move in time, allowing your shoulder to slam into her stomach. You hit the dirt, almost flying over the top of her, but you manage to catch yourself on a root, grounding you. With the knife in your hand, you go to bring it down to stab her anywhere.

She almost grabs your wrist, but her hands are too slippery, either from blood or from sweat. The knife slams into her side, and you manage to pull it out and stab her again before there’s more shouting, making you look up.

“Katniss!” A different voice calls, it’s farther away. “Katniss!”

“Peeta!” It has to be Katniss responding, judging by the way she’s screaming. How did she get so close to the tree? “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” She shouts. “I’m here! I’m here! Peeta!”

You watch as Finnick comes barreling through the trees, right past where you are with Enobaria. She’s still struggling beneath you, fingers reaching for her sword. You bring back the end of your knife, slamming the butt of it against her forehead with as much force as you can muster, knocking her out, and hopefully giving her a concussion.

You trip over her body, falling into the leaves. Finnick stops several feet ahead, turning back to see who it is.

“Go!” You motion for him to keep running. “Get Katniss, I’m fine!”

He hesitates, but ultimately ends up listening to you, going for the lightning tree. You manage to follow loosely, taking your time, assuming that it's another ten minutes before the lightning is to begin.

Just as you cross the treeline again, the hair on your arms fly up, stick straight, warning you of what's to come. You can see Katniss’s arrow is aimed in Finnick’s direction, but he’s cluelessly walking into it.

You open your mouth to shout a warning, but the words die in your throat. Suddenly, she changes her mind, turning robotically to the force field behind her, pulling an arrow back. It isn’t until she releases it, do you see the shimmering gold wire attached to the arrow.

The lightning strikes the tree, a flash of white flies up the wire and straight back into the dome, causing it to burst into a blue light. The shock wave just a few minutes ago has nothing on this one.

You’re thrown through the air, crash to the ground, breath sucked from your lungs. As you try to get a hold of your breathing, you go to reach for your knife, just a few inches away, but you’re stuck. You can’t move.

All you can do is watch as the dome shuts off, blacking out the arena for just a few seconds, and then it explodes. In the blink of an eye, the forest lights on fire, the heat of the flame licking at your sensitive skin.

Just as the sky begins to fall, a hovercraft materializes, a claw dropped. It has to be the rebels, coming to save you. You watch as one tribute is saved, it vaguely looks like Beetee. A second one is scooped up, bronze hair shining in the blaze, that has to be Finnick. On the third time, you think it’s Katniss, she’s the only girl that was in the area.

You watch as the claw disappears inside of the hovercraft, and you wait for it to be sent back down again, but the longer the seconds drag on, the more you begin to worry. They’re going to come back down again, right? They’re going to get everyone out of the arena, that’s the plan—

Until the hovercraft blends back into the sky and disappears, leaving you behind.

331 notes · View notes