#this is for deadly games if i ever return to it

[katsukikitten]

Hacker Denki's fav way to get into any system is usually by social engineering and phishing. He has SOOOO much fun making fake emails or pretending to be someone else in order to get some information. He has a silver tongue you know, can sweet talk anyone into anything over the phone. Once he got the entire server key code and serial model thanks to a helpful security guard who thought Denki was head of IT. It made his life real easy.

He has at least four burner phones on him at a time and is constantly looking at his boss's long list of potential targets. Sometimes it can take a few months before someone takes the bait and other times it's his first phone call and he can sit in the system for months. Collect data as if it were gold and store it all on one of his many neatly labeled external hard drives. Although his system is meant to be understood by his brain only to ensure his safety, not that his new boss, you, would ever do anything to harm him.

After scrolling socials or gleaming information from open windows, or an initial phishing to get in, he can study the institutions processes and systems. What they use and how it looks, snag a couple screen shots that he can eventually manipulate into a very neat page that looks like a carbon copy. He can get an IT person's name and spoof their email to send out the "update" or if he was lucky he can send the update directly to his target who will easily log in and give Denki his user and password, not to mention how he authenticates, which will be easy once he knows what app they use and of course he has their cell phone number by now.

All while he has Sims running in the background on one of his many laptops.

[gomzdrawfr]

Soap soap soap soap soap soa-

(For the ask game :3)

ka-FREAKING-BOOMMM

hi hi :3

My first impression

woah he sure pouts a lot

My impression now

puppy...precious...[cradles photo and sobs] they'll never let me forget you

Favorite thing about that character

his voice....the growl- HHGHGH

Least favorite thing

this is hard...buuuut I guess I'll say the latest gas mask skin

there's a lot going on with the vest and shoulders like excuse me sir what are you packing

Favorite line/scene

too many from that one mission Alone in mw2....so I'll give 2

Ghost: “Narcos… they’ll take videos.” Soap: “I’ll give ‘em your email so they know where to send them…” Ghost: “I won’t watch ‘em… more than once anyway…" Soap: “Sick bastard…”

Soap: "away and bile yer heid!!" Ghost: "English, MacTavish" Soap: "let me translate, go fuck yourself" Ghost: "Much better"

Favorite interaction that character has with another

Alejandro: "I can't call Soap 'Johnny'...." Soap: "Don't. Only Ghost can pull that off."

*giggling kicking my feet*

A character that I wish that character would interact with more

I think Soap would hang out well with Alejandro and Rudy! so them for sure

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

Johnny Cage....(idk why either)

A headcanon about that character

actually, I think between Ghost and Soap, Soap's the kind of guy who likes salty, savoury things instead of a sweet tooth(to which I hc Ghost as) but he might be a lil weak for a good ol milk butter round candy

another is he has high alcohol tolerance, but he likes to act like he's drunk as hell just for fun

A song that reminds of that character

you know what? this probably ties in with the hc and the next question but this song...I just feel like Soap knows what it's like to be lonely

An unpopular opinion about that character

I...actually think. that Soap doesn't have a big family that many others has hc him to have.

I like to think he has a good family yes, ma and pa holds a special place in his heart, but no siblings and nothing.

No close relatives after he joined the army.

Favorite picture (tw: blood)

[littlemissshoei]

HOMICIPHER || MR CRAWLING HCS.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ — content: headcanons, mentions of game typical topics, blood, game spoilers, mr crawling's endings spoilers, established relationship, mr crawling being the greenest flag ever.

★◞ — If there is something Mr Crawling loves more than you, it has to be seeing you smile. Just like did back then with the ears he found, hoping to catch even the faintest glimpse of your beautiful smile, he has made it his life goal to keep you happy. He often studies your behaviour, learning what makes you laugh and crack and smile to make sure he can recreate it.

★◞ — It's not a surprise he loves his hair, and he gets excited whenever you tend it. He enjoys feelings your fingers brush through it, washing it, taking care of it and even braiding it.

★◞ — While waiting for you, Mr Crawling likes cuddling up in your bed, surrounded by your smell. He likes to pretend it's you he's cuddled up against, waiting impatiently for your return.

★◞ — he is definitely the jealous type. He gets all sad whenever your attention isn't on him, desperately trying to find ways to get it back. He's like a sulking, small puppy, and you cannot help but find it endearing. He depends on words of affirmation, needing to hear you say he's all that you need.

★◞ — Very clingy. Will cling to you at any chance given. Enjoys physical touch as much as words of affirmation. He loves giving you headpats just as much as he loves receiving them.

★◞ — If you were to cook him the nastiest thing on earth, he would still eat it and smile afterwards, letting you know he liked it. As long as you cooked it, no bad taste can ruin the otherwise deadly meal.

★◞ — When the two of you arrived in front of the elevator, Mr Crawling couldn't help but feel somewhat nervous. When you asked him to take it with you, he experienced a sense of happiness he had never felt before, following right after you.

★◞ — He really appreciates the fact you try your best to learn his language as a way to communicate, so in exchange for that he pays attention to you, trying (and usually miserably failing) to learn human language. The one sentence he did manage to learn was „I love you“ which makes you tear up every time you hear it (whenever you get back home after a long day of work)

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent.  The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over. 

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you. 

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering. 

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes. 

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish. 

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you. 

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met. 

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it. 

[chleem]

Is it casual now? /extra

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: “Baby, no attachments.” yet, you’re at his childhood home, laughing with his parents, bonding with his siblings. 

Genre: situation-ship, smut, fluff

Warnings: swearing, sex, light read, drew's a player :(

⋆.˚ official one shot here | extra2

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ "it's hard being casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Whose bra is this?”

Drew’s eyes dart to the source, feeling wary. Who else could be in his room right now?

Oh right. The girl he met last night. She’s wearing his t-shirt like it’s his, rummaging through his dresser. She turns around holding a red bra. Your red bra. 

Drew raises an eyebrow, looking at the girl skeptically. What’s her name again? He honestly has no idea, and isn’t planning on remembering. “I..I thought you left.”

“Let’s grab breakfast together,” she happily chirps, before returning to the bra in her hands, holding it as if it contained some deadly disease. “Now, who’s bra is this?”

Drew doesn’t reply; and the girl adds on, “is it the girl you moaned out last night?” 

Drew cocks his head to the side. What is this bitch on, he thinks. He sends her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, walks over, and snatches the bra out of her hands. He tugs it back in his dresser, pushing it close. “You should leave.”

He turns around and sees the graphic design that's on the shirt the girl's currently wearing. That’s the shirt you got him. One of his favorite. “Um, leave the shirt here.” 

It’s the girl’s turn to look at him skeptically. “What?”

“Yeah, uh, leave the shirt here, and forget this ever happened, alright?” 

Drew throws his towel over his gaming chair, and grabs his sweatpants. He puts it on, ignoring the shocked expression on her face. He lays down on his bed, picks up his phone, and starts scrolling through his messages. 

When she realizes that he doesn’t give a shit, she angrily takes the t-shirt off, throwing it into his face. “Thanks,” Drew says rather sourly, putting it to the side. She puts on her dress from last night, grabbing any remaining clothing around the place. 

“We have class together, you dick!” She yells, as if that would make Drew care. 

He hums, obviously too focused on his phone. Only the slam of his room door makes him slightly flinch, but even so, his eyes go back to his phone.

Now, what was he so focused on? Well, texting you. 

——

I’m at the soccer field

This simple text was enough to get Drew out of his dorm, walking as fast as he could to go see you. 

A smile on his lips that appear on its own, just from seeing you sit on the bleachers, watching the soccer team practice. Or more, get yelled at by their coach. 

You don’t even notice him sit down beside you; too engrossed in the music coming from your AirPods. 

It’s when he takes one AirPod out of your ear, when you finally notice him. “Hey,” he breathes out, putting the AirPod into his own ear.

“Hi,” you smile, your eyes landing on his shirt. Oh. He’s wearing the shirt you got him as a gift a few months ago, for Christmas. He wears it quite often, but every time you see it on him, warmth still fills your stomach. “Nice shirt, handsome.”

“Really?” He nudges your knee with his. “An amazing girl got me this.”

He says stuff like this; that makes you wonder if it’s still casual. 

“Interesting,” you lean in closer to him, your eyes glancing down at his lips and then at his eyes. You haven’t seen him in almost two weeks; due to spring break. Mentally, you were glad to be away from Drew, to clear your mind a bit. Physically? Well, let’s just say sexting was not as satisfying as the real thing. 

“What song is this again?” He suddenly asks, smiling fondly at you. You get ready to answer, but Drew beats you to it, replying to his own question. “The Smiths, right?” 

You mimic the ding noise, making him chuckle under his breath. “You know me so well,” you say, bit of sarcasm in your voice. Duh, he knows a lot about you; casual for more than five months at this point.

“Of course.” he’s smiling ear to ear. 

You roll your eyes at his response, but feel your own smile growing. You lean down against his shoulder, looking out onto the field. The weight of looking into his eyes was getting heavy. 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, until you speak up. 

“That guy has been yelled at by the coach ten times already.”

You feel Drew’s chest vibrate against you, his laughter erupting softly. “Ten times? What a retard.”

You chuckle softly, only because Drew finds it funny. “But the coach was being a meanie.”

The said guy has the ball now, and when he attempts to score it in, he misses and falls onto the ground. That causes the coach to yell at him again. “Well, eleventh time,” Drew adds on. 

“Next Fifa champion,” you add on. Drew laughs again, as if that joke was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. You pull away from leaning on his shoulder, and stare at his smile. “Was it that funny?” You ask. 

He turns his head over to you, the smile still there. Or more like, ever since he sat down, his lips were always curled up. “You should be a comedian.”

That makes you laugh, and you push his shoulder, “nonsense.”

Your laughter dies down when you see how smitten his stare on you is. 

His eyes glance down at your lips, then back to your eyes, “I missed you.”

Casual, casual, casual.

“You did?” You cock your head to the side flirtatiously. Part of you thought it was fun to flirt with Drew; to hear the nice things he has to say about you. The other part of you hated how sweet Drew was with you; when the two of you were just ‘casually’ sleeping together. 

“Think I’ve already said that over text though,” his voice drops low, and he starts to lean close to you. The look on his face says it all; he wants to kiss you.

“Flatter me and tell me in person too, won’t you?” You continue to say, a smirk on your lips. 

He leans forward and kisses your cheek gently, “how ‘bout I show you instead?”

Oh. Oh. The butterflies are throwing up in your stomach right now, because of this man’s sly mouth. How he just casually brings up wanting to have sex with you, within minutes of seeing each other. 

Seems like he really does miss you. 

Casual, casual, casual. 

“How is one suppose to refuse to that?”

“Hmm,” he hums, and his eyes glued to your lips tell you everything; his mind is already elsewhere, imagining the most dirty things to do with you. Or, what he’s going to do with you. 

He leans in, this time, kissing you on the lips. His tongue meets yours hungrily and lustfully, exploring every corner. He kisses you as if it’s the only way for him to breathe, only way for him to live on. 

You hate that; yet you kiss him back with the same eagerness. 

Make-out session at the bleachers? How romantic. How sweet. How casual. 

You pull away, feeling breathless from how good his kisses are. And you too realize that you missed him too, something you don’t want to admit. Because, who misses someone you only see casually? That’s weird.

His eyes are still glued to your lips, and you see a small trail of saliva near the corner of it. You chuckle softly, wiping it off with your thumb. “You know…”

He hums yet again, even though you haven’t even gotten to the main point of your sentence. “…I got a gift for you….in my room,” you manage to breathe out, and he kisses your jaw. 

Aka, let’s go have sex in my room, right now. 

“How lovely,” he smiles against your neck, planting a kiss there. 

“You wanna see it?” You run your hands through his hair, down his nape, fingertips scratching it lightly. That makes him bury himself deeper into your neck, his arms wrapping around you.

“Yes please.”

——

The moment you unlocked your room, Drew rushes you inside, until you land on the soft cushions of your couch. 

You giggle, watching him take his top off, his legs on either side of you, caging you onto the couch. “Should I continue my story or no?”

“Mmm, lemme guess,” Drew remains eye contact with you, but his hands focus on undoing the zipper of your shorts. “Everyone got food poisoning, just because of you.”

You lift your hips, him pulling your shorts down, “everyone was rushed into the ER.”

Drew laughs, ushering you to sit up. He pulls your top over your head, leaving you only in your bra and underwear. “And still you insist on cooking for me.”

“Only because you always ask to stay in,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Making me improvise on dinner.”

“Mmhm,” he stares down at your lips, distracted like always. He kisses you sloppily, his hands running along your back. You moan into his mouth, as he pushes you down onto the pillows. 

“I miss you,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking gently on the area around there;

The angel on your shoulder likes the sweet things he says; the devil on the other side likes to doubt his every word, repeating the phrase in your ear:

Casual, casual, casual. 

One hand kneads your thigh, the other pinning your waist to the couch. His lips move onto your breasts, where they skillfully move around the bra. He wraps his lips around your nipples, making you gasp in pleasure. 

But the bra starts to feel itchy, which you breathe out, “just take it off.”

He smirks against your nipples, pulling away just to unclip your bra. You help him, pushing the bra off, discarding it on the floor. He leans down again, this time, sucking on the other breast. 

“Fuck..” You moan, as he stops, trailing his lips down your stomach. He leaves soft kisses along your belly button, his fingers working with pulling your underwear down. 

“Missed you.” 

This time, he says it while looking down at your pussy. 

The air hits your wet pussy, soon cut off by Drew’s warm palm. 

“Wet already,” he chuckles, his fingers playing with your folds. Too consumed with lust, you don’t even reply to that comment. 

He sticks two fingers into you, thrusting in a slow pace. “You’re tight,” he breathes out, kissing your neck. 

You wrap your arms around his neck lazily, “haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Forever, huh?”

“C’mon, don’t act like its not the same for you-“ he adds the third finger, cutting off your sentence. You moan loudly, as he starts to move in a faster pace. Swear, you can cum just on his fingers alone. 

He smiles against your face, and kisses your ear. Occasionally, he grunts, trying to stretch you out as much as he can. 

Okay. Maybe you could cum on his fingers alone, but it wouldn’t be as good as the real thing. “I want you,” you manage to say between moans, his fingers working hard on your pussy. 

He kisses your forehead, “good to know.”

What a teasing prick. You squeeze his bicep, hoping he gets the message. It’s not easy to talk when he’s got his fingers deep in you. You give him a lazy glare; and he just laughs, “I’know.”

He pulls out of you, and you immediately clench around nothing, your folds missing Drew. He gets entirely off of you, and walks into your bedroom.

Drew knew where you kept the condoms; since, well, he’s constantly fucking you. 

You stare at the ceiling while waiting for him. 

A few seconds of silence passes.

“Y/n!” He yells, before walking out a few seconds later. You turn your gaze to him, who’s holding the entire box of condoms in his hands. He smiles wryly, “it’s expired.”

You furrow your eyebrows, sitting up slightly. He walks over to you, showing you the date on the box. Yeah, it is expired. But you bought this a few weeks ago. Wait…

“No wonder it was so cheap,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch pillow. 

“This shit…won’t break that easily, right?”

You glance at Drew. He looks at you, hoping you would agree to his thought. His eyes shine in anticipation, the curl of his lips upwards. “…I guess?”

“I’ll…even pull out before I cum,” he shrugs, also hoping you would agree. 

“I… I take pills,” you add on, ignoring the calls of ‘bad idea!’ going on in your mind. Lust was in charge now, and it’s commanding you to get fucked by Drew, even with the huge amount of risks it comes with. 

He breaks into a smile, leaning down and kissing you. “Hey…so it’s okay?” He murmurs against your lips, an adoring look painted all over his face. 

“Have I ever said no though?” You say, which makes him chuckle. 

“True,” he replies, before taking a condom out of the box. You help him, by pulling his sweatpants off. He steps out of them, and you see his fully erected dick, screaming to be released from his boxers. 

“All fours,” his voice drops deeper, commanding you into the position he wants. 

You obey; shrugging your underwear off your knees, getting on your knees and elbows. You arch your back, to make your ass higher. You feel him dip on the couch behind you. 

He stays behind you, the noises of him preparing the only sound in the room. It feels like minutes have passed, and he still hasn't stick it in. “You done?” You ask, unable to mask the impatience in it. 

Drew replies with a hard slap to your ass, making you groan. He then asks, “did you buy this for someone else?”

“What?”

“Not only is it expired…but you got a smaller size,” he plants a kiss on your lower back. 

“What?” You say again, turning your head to look behind you. He holds the packaging in his hands; an M written on it. Oh. “That isn’t your size?”

He snickers, “you serious?” You must have just grabbed the first pack on the shelf, not checking anything. Drew delivers another rough slap to your asscheek when he doesn’t get a reply from you. It hurt, but in a good way. “Babe, you serious?”

“Dead serious,” you sarcastically reply, before laying your head onto the couch pillow in front of you. At this point, you’re pretty sure your pussy isn’t even wet anymore. 

But another hard slap to your other asscheek makes you jolt up, your brain betraying you by making you moan out. “Barely fits me.”

Can’t believe you’re attracted to this whiny man. “I’ll pay more attention next time,” you try to hide your annoyance, “just fuck me already.”

His hands grab the side of your hips, moving your ass to the right position. “Might slip off.”

What’s up with him right now? Is he seriously offended? You just bought the wrong size by accident, was it that big of a deal? “It won’t,” you assure him, “my fault, okay? Just put it in.”

“Fine. Fine, sorry,” he murmurs. 

You feel the tip of him against your hole, as he aligns his dick. And then, he sticks his entire dick inside of you. You moan out in pleasure, clenching around it. Fuck. He was right; you were tight, and you needed a few seconds to adjust to him. 

But Drew doesn’t let you; starting to slam his lower body into you, in a rather rough manner. 

Clearly, he’s not sorry for being whiny. 

“Shit,” you grip on the pillow harshly. “Slow the fuck down-“

He ignores your comment, continuing his pace. Drew rarely fucked you liked this, only if he’s putting his frustration or anger towards you. “Does this feel like an M?” You hear him grunt out, between thrusts. 

Who knew wrong sized and expired condoms could frustrate Drew this much?

You're forced to adjust to his size and pace, ignoring how each thrust that directly hits your core hurts a bit. “Fuck,” you breathe out, the pleasure inside of you building. His hands grip on your waist tightly; soft bruises might form later. 

His grunts and your soft moans fill the room, as well as loud, aggressive skin-slapping. 

He leaves sloppy kisses along your spine, causing your goosebumps to rise. You weren't going to lie; it felt good to be roughly handled by Drew.

You’re close; feeling the orgasm building inside of you. He knows it too; you clench around his dick. “Someone likes getting fucked roughly,” the tease in his voice is evident, “fucked like a slut, huh?”

Yeah. When Drew was mad or angry, he degrades you in bed. 

But you liked it, a moan you fail to repress escaping your lips. He slaps your ass again, a chuckle heard. “Cum then.”

He slams himself into you, his pace never slowing. The knot in your stomach eventually goes undone, your cum coating his dick. “Fuck..” He groans, as you relax yourself. He holds your ass up, continuing to thrust to help his own orgasm. 

He twitches inside of you; he’s close. 

Drew slows down after a few more, and you fell him pull out of you rather urgently. You completely fall on your stomach on the couch, your body giving up. 

But you force yourself to turn around, laying on your back. Drew sits back on the couch, his head leaned back as his cum fills the condom. He’s right; the M size condom covers 2/3 of his dick, probably not even half when he was erected. 

“I’m sorry,” you coo, a lazily smile on your lips. 

His expression softens; “Come here,” he takes the condom off, wrapping it and throwing it in the garbage can nearby. You force yourself up with the little energy left inside of you, snuggling yourself in Drew’s arms. You trace your fingertips along the lines of his lower stomach, laying your head on his chest. You and Drew’s legs tangled together, due to the small couch. 

The two of you stay silent, just enjoying the feeling of simply being in each other’s arms. 

This was casual, apparently. Cuddling after sex. Something people who have no attachments with each other usually do. 

Then, you suddenly joint up, causing Drew to look at you amusingly. “Wait, I actually do have a gift for you.”

“Really? You didn’t have to,” he murmurs, but the look on his face betrays him. He likes how you think of him when you’re away. You hum, getting off him and walking to your room. 

You come back with a small box, straddling yourself around his waist. You bite down on your lips in anticipation, hoping he likes it. He takes it; opening the box to reveal a men’s chained bracelet. 

It wasn’t from a luxurious brand, but you found it while shopping in your hometown, and thought it would look good on Drew.

He smiles ear-to-ear, “I love it.”

“No you don’t,” you chuckle, helping him put it on on his wrist. 

“I do; I love it, thank you,” he kisses your cheek, raising his hand and wrapping it around your nape. He pulls you down, and kisses you, almost in a loving way. Besides from seeing the smile Drew has whenever you get him something, the way he kisses you after also drives you insane. 

Casual, casual, casual.  

“Round two,” you murmur with a smirk on your lips, pulling away. He chuckles, before his eyes look down to your breasts. 

He bites down on his lip, obviously liking what he's seeing. Then, he shares the same look as you from earlier, remembering something. “Oh, your favorite bra, the red one?”

“...Yeah?” You cock your head to the side, wondering where this was going.

“It was in my dresser this entire time.”

“I knew it!”

“Found it the other day.”

“And… are you going to return it to me?”

“No.”

You slap his chest playfully, him sending you a cocky grin. “You got a bunch of other bras anyways.”

“Doesn’t compare to that one,” you pout, leaning down on his chest, hugging him. You lay your ear close to his heart, hearing the soft rhythm of it. 

It’s moments like this; that doesn’t feel casual at all. 

And maybe, it never will feel casual. At least for you. You weren’t the chill, flirtatious girl Drew knew, no, deep down, you were constantly doubting this situation-ship with him. Letting it drag so long, so long that it didn’t feel real anymore. 

Your stupid mind, constantly dreaming of the future with him. A shared apartment, shared furniture, shared everything. Him showing you off to his friends, admitting you’re someone special to him. 

You loser, he doesn’t even refer to you as a friend in front of others. Simply, a classmate. Fuck, you even visited his parents! Yet, he still denies. Everyone knows you two have something going on, except for Drew. Was he doing this on purpose? 

You don’t know; and honestly, too scared ask.

Because somehow, staying casual with him was better than not having him at all. 

The soft rhythm of his heartbeat helps you to slowly drift off into sleep, the thoughts disappearing. Hopefully, you don’t dream of Drew again, in a nice shared apartment, him showing you off to everyone, as his girlfriend. 

Was this dumb love? Maybe. Possibly. Most definitely. 

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

word count: 3.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: hope you enjoyed reading this! and this isnt an official part two, but rather, another 'pov' into being in a situationship with kinda-toxic drew. for better context, you can read the actual oneshot here. i don't think there is going to be an official part two, bc i like this the way it is (sry!) and yes, inspired by chappell roan.

ngl...i dont like this writing as much....but i love the fluff parts! also, the smut scenes might feel wayyy too fast but swear they lasted longer than that (just got lazy to write🥲) anyways, thx for reading and pls ignore any mistakes <3

[killerpancakeburger]

Scary Dog Privilege 3

You thought your days as Ghost's handler over since he started seeing Soap, but when someone's bold enough to lay hands on what's his, you feel obligated to intervene to prevent a massacre.

Inspired by this post by @shotmrmiller /Soap pic cred goes to @yumethefrostypanda

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, light smut, GuardDog!Ghost x Handler!Reader, Ghoap x Reader, dom!Ghost, dom!Reader, sub!Soap, light degradation towards Soap. Soap gets treated like a mutt, Ghost is Smug™️, what else is new! I can't write smut so they don't go all the way sorry 😔 1.4k words.

Part 1. Part 2.

When Ghost gets progressively murderous, glaring hard, who needs to defuse the situation? You, again. 

Someone is getting brutally murdered tonight, you think to yourself as you coolly take another sip from your glass.

When you joined your colleagues for a drink earlier in the evening, you were not counting on Ghost and Soap's presence. Your butt had barely grazed your seat that the scotsman was enthusiastically waving at you from across the bar, turning himself into the center of attention, while his taciturn companion was looking you up and down, dark stare as intense as ever, sizing you up like you were a potential adversary… or prey.

You had given a half smile and a reserved hand motion in return, before refocusing your attention on the people you came with.

You were still mad at Ghost, after all.

The bastard had been toying with you, letting you believe that, maybe, there could be something more between you two. Then you discovered he was fucking around with his blue-eyed Sergeant too.

Not appreciating being just another conquest, you had been keeping your distance from him. 

Until now.

Until the beauty sliding her way to Johnny catches your eye. She's undeniably attractive, and with the confidence to match. Maybe a bit too confident, you gauge as your eyes follow the motion of her hand informally palpating Soap's bicep.

You glance at Ghost, curious of his reaction.

What you find sends a cold shiver down your spine. If looks could kill… the poor thing would be dead several times over. In very gruesome ways.

It's a miracle she doesn’t feel his deadly stare piercing her skull, like he was trying to headshot her unarmed.

He hasn’t budged an inch, but even from afar, you can read the tension in his muscles— the line of his jaw, the strain of his forearm, the clench of his fist. Even with the mask, you can guess the scowl twisting his features.

You swear you can hear his glass of whisky wince under the pressure of his vice-like grip.

That's when you decide to prevent a carnage.

Finishing your drink, and informing your coworkers that you’d be back soon, you make your way to the bothersome couple and their no-less-bothersome third wheel, quickly plotting a plan of attack. How to get her to give up her target without causing— too much of— a scene?

Walking by Ghost before reaching your goal, you hiss at him under your breath: “Behave.”

Sneaking behind Johnny, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, embracing him from behind with a sickly sweet smile for your mark, fingers crossed that he'll play along, or at least keep his big mouth shut.

Chest pressed against his back, and lips close to his ear, you ask out loud:

“Sweetheart, who's your friend?”

Before the forenamed can reply, the woman snaps back, all her smiles and seductive tone gone out the window.

“No, who do you think you are?”

Outch. And to think you're doing all this to preserve her life. Ungrateful much?

You tighten your grip over Soap's possessively, your cordial expression not faltering.

“You should know not to go after taken men.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't see your name anywhere on him.”

So that's how she wants to play this, uh. Time to show her you can beat her at her own game easily.

“Oh, my bad, forgot to mark him before letting him out.”

Your hand leaves Johnny's chest to grab his jaw between thumb and forefinger, with enough strength to turn his face away from you, but not enough to hurt him, and making good use of the newfound access to his throat, you bite.

A strangled little noise escapes him, but you barely pay it any mind as you look up to stare at your opponent defiantly, and the mix of shock and revulsion in the grimace twisting her features tells you you've won. She gets up and takes off with a scoff. She must certainly take you for a freak, but it's a small sacrifice you’re willing to make.

Releasing Soap, you slump by his free side at the booth with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry. Don't be mad at me, that's all I found to make her leave.”

“I don't think ‘mad’ is what he's feeling now, luv.”

You glare at Ghost, irked by how satisfied he sounds. He half-turned your way, one arm leaning on the backrest, one hand squeezing his Sergeant's thigh.

“L.T.”, hisses the latter through gritted teeth, and it sounds like a plea, while absolutely refusing to meet your eyes.

“This is all your fault, you know,” you groan in the culprit's direction.

“S’that so?”

The smugger he sounds, the hotter your blood runs. It's not until you can feel his warm breath on your skin that you realize that, in your anger, you leaned towards him so much— and he returned the favor— that your faces are inches away. You even reflected him without meaning too, seizing Johnny's other thigh to balance yourself, causing the aforenamed to gulp.

“Sure it's not an excuse to drape yourself all over Johnny?”

You've never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

“You're delirious.”

“Gonna have to take responsibility for the state you've put him in.”

“That's bullshit. Johnny, tell him it's—”

Your mouth abruptly close as you take in the Sergeant's flustered state— half-lidded eyes, flushed face and ears, imploring expression.

“Guess I'll just have to demonstrate, then…”

Turning his words into deeds, Simon grabs your hand and directs it towards Soap.

“Nonono, Simonplease—”

In other circumstances, you would have put a stop to this. Set Ghost straight, shield Soap, embody the voice of reason. But…. Your mouth is dry, your skin ablaze, lust the only thing on your mind. It's like Johnny's beseeching whine caused most of your blood to desert your brain and rush South.

And Simon's actions are not helping— quite the opposite.

He guides your hand to his Sergeant's crotch, and the hard-on you find there sweeps away all the doubts you had about him not being into this, nor into you. The contact wrests a hiss from your target, and you look up to find him biting into his fist— a desperate effort to keep quiet. Glistening blue eyes bore into you, and you forget about anyone else's existence until Ghost speaks up again.

“Believe me now?”

The trip back to the base was a blur. One second you were in the bar, engaged in a staring contest, the next the sound of the lock of Ghost's bedroom rings out in the silence.

You barely find your bearings that Soap gets shoved on his back on the bed, and a warm hand on your back makes you land on him right after.

“Oof, what the fuck,” you complain as you rise on your forearms.

Soap isn’t deterred by the manhandling at all— used to it?—, instead lifting his head to nuzzle against you with a happy sigh. That's only then that you realize you somehow fell with your chest right in his face.

You attempt to get up on all four, but Johnny's grabby hands on your ass pinning you against him make it difficult.

“Bloody hell Soap, let me get up.”

He whines in protest at the command but obeys anyway.

You crawl backwards to meet his eyes. Next thing you know, his hand slips behind your neck to notch your mouth with his.

He's panting when you split up. The view makes you chuckle good-naturedly.

“So worked up already. I barely touched you.”

When he attempts to kiss you again, lips brushing yours, you recoil and perch on his lap.

You tug at his shirt and he sits up straight without needing to be asked twice.

“Let me look at you.”

Cradling his face, you stroke his bottom lip with your thumb as you contemplate him, taking in his dilated pupils and disheveled mohawk.

Enjoying his obedience as much as his eagerness, you let him remove your top, grope your chest and suck at your nipples.

Lost in his ministrations, you would have almost forgotten about his lieutenant's presence until a gloved hand slides from your hip to cup your crotch, and a warm torso presses against your back. You turn your head to get a look at him but he objects to it.

“Don't mind me, love. Focus on Johnny, yeah? Got the poor thing all pent up.”

The above-named openly moans at that, and you make a mental note— “likes when we talk about him like he's not there.”

There's a gap between Ghost's words and actions though, and it becomes incredibly hard to concentrate on Johnny when he slips his hand inside your pants to tease you with his fingers while kissing your neck. Of course he's doing this on purpose, the smug bastard. The night promises to be long.

[opal-owl-flight]

Your Protege. (Pt 2)

(Pt 1)

SAME DAY DELIVERY. HERE WE GO.

This is the only time theyve shown such sheer anger in front of anyone. Theyre usually just cold, or disappointed -- never furious.

Its one of the times Neo3 actually feared the captain.

MORE NOTES ABT CUTTLEFISH BELOW

Not over how Cuttlefish is this fuckign loony old man who pushes his ideas on young 3, constantly goinf "yall kids think Im crazy but LOOK WHOS RIGHT FOR ONCE", "I cant fight anymore, thats why I got you!", "Youre hero material, kid! Youre gonna be big!!"

Then raves abt how the Octarians are evil

3, who was desperate for praise from someone who reminds them of their direct relatives, does everything he says to do just to be appreciated more.

Cuttlefish taught them how to fight hand to hand. How to move and think on their feet. (Though they were given similar in their younger years)

Cuttlefish was... generally more warm and supportive than their dad, but yknow. A lot of this started bc 3 agreed to work for him. Be his deadly weapon.

-------

Cuttlefish was more concerned abt the Zapfish than 3s well-being then... He knew that the constant praising was working so hes gonna keep doing it. (...mostly bc thats what worked on HIM back then)

After 3 does his dirty work, he realized he should probably keep the kid around bc his paranoia with Octaria is a damn bitch and this kid is one hell of an ass kicker. They dont mind. Right??

3 never showed any sign of wanting to leave. Why would they, he was so kind to them, more than their dad or grandad ever was. (Also the paranoia rubbed off on them. Oops!)

Then, he asked them to go on a longer patrol with him. Pushed them to their fucking limit. Bc of what?? Octaria making moves again? (Octavio did make moves but they were already, as we say in the game, "too far from the objective to really contribute to the fight". This is why agent 4 was dragged in.)

There, 3 saw more and more that hes just a loony old man who wanted to have a fancy weapon to protect him in his crusade. A crusade they never really questioned, mind you. Theyve no reason to believe Octaria was nice in any way, not when they keep trying to kill them. (...in self defense. They havent realized, yet.)

Then they encounter 8, who had dropped her weapon at the sight of them. Raising her hands in surrender. 3 was far ahead of the coot, and managed to actually talk to her and everything. They were this close to bringing her back to Inkopolis as a friend, until the bastard ruined the moment.

Cuttlefish still told them that she was a danger. It might be a trick! Dont put your guard down! Pressured to follow their superior, 3s mask returns to their face, turning onto 8 with the herl shot ready to fire.

Then they all tumbled into the metro.......

....for Cuttlefish to use yet ANOTHER kid (8) to get him out of a hairy situation.

--------

Hes a crazy old man. Only caring for any of the kids beyond the platoon after they do his dirty work.

Like "mmm! Thank you for committing the war crimes in my stead. Youre a good kid, you know that? Anything I can do to support you further? Mmmm???"

...I dont think hes aware.

Hes not aware that hes harming the entire platoon, bc in his mind hes doing the greater good here. Get some easily manipulable kids on the street, shower em with praise and promises of glory and valor, and theyll do ANYTHING for you.

Including the warcrimes you keep wanting to do.

I think...I think he doesnt know hes manipulating the kids. I think he genuinely believes his own promises. He glamorizes the valor of war bc hes a commander who sits in the back of it. He really believes that this is for the best. He believes that this is how you inspire your troops to fight.

--------

LETS GO THATS ALL MY NOTES I SPENT ALL DAY FINISHING THIS COMIC. GOODNIGHT INKOPOLIS!!!

[lanitalay]

When a High Lord is powerless.

summary: Eris x human reader, reader is sick, Eris is freaking out.

a/n: since i'm just getting over a sickness I wrote this to feel better about myself. enjoy

Warnings: none

wordcount: 1.1k

Eris pulled at his hair, helpless at the scene before him.

You were sick. The night before you told him it was a “common cold.” 

“It’s a human thing I guess, since you ethereal fae don’t ever get the sniffles.” 

He had never been around anyone ill. Fae got injured. Accelerated healing made it so only deadly blows would do any real harm. But it was never anything invisible that would wound, it was magic, blades, fire. Yesterday you had been perfect. Eris listed the things he saw you do in his mind: breakfast, ride through the groves, read, play a game of chess… all the usual things that kept you busy. 

“High Lord, I beg, don’t touch the High Lady. She has a very high fever and we must lower her temperature.” The words were a blow to his gut. A contradiction to the very instincts that urged him forward, closer to you. 

“High Lord, please.” The healer looked at him with wide eyes. He could not find malice in them, only worry to match his own. “What can I do?” 

The healer sighed and wiped her brow. “If you could find ice, it would help the fever.” 

He nodded, exiting the room at once. In all his years his magic, his fire had never been the cause of his self loathing. It was the fire that kept him going in the dark days when Beron was alive. The same fire that kept you warm in the cold Autumn nights when you first arrived was now aggravating the monster that ravaged your body. 

He winnowed to the border with Winter as soon as he stepped out of your chambers. Scooping chunks of ice and snow and praying to whatever gods might hear him that it would be enough. That they might spare you. 

Would a god implore him in a bargain? Your health for his magic. If it would bring you harm when you needed help he would be rid of it entirely. Or perhaps his immortality. There’s no him without you, not anymore. He might trade his lifespan for a human one. You’ve said that you have sixty years if you’re lucky. That would be enough… what god might- “Oh thank the Cauldron you found some! The ice in the kitchens ran out.” The healer yanks the bag from him and begins to coat your body in the frigid substance. You moan, discomfort rousing you from sleep. 

“Eris… where is he-”

“I’m right here, love.” Your hand reaches for his, but the healers instructions were clear. Heat would worsen your condition and he was a walking furnace. “I’m right here, the healers say the cold will help with the fever.”

“I don’t- I don’t like this Eris, I’m cold. Hold me, please…” He can’t stand it. The paleness of your skin, the heaviness in your eyes and the dark circles beneath. Your teeth are chattering. He steps closer. “High Lord! She is merely uncomfortable, the ice is helping. Please try to remain calm.”

He fumes. “Then make her comfortable! She’s your High Lady! If harm comes her way I will not hesitate-”

“Don’t yell, my darling. I’m alright… just a bit cold is all.” Your voice is barely a whisper as it slaps him across the face.

“I apologize, I’m worried about my mate.”

The healer huffs in acknowledgement and returns to her ministrations. “It’s just a cold Eris, I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Back in the Human Lands my mother would make me broth and I’d be back to normal.” 

“What kind of broth?” 

Then he was in the kitchen. No cooks were on duty in the middle of the night so he followed a recipe from a book, which he ignored a soon as he foud a medicinal journal. He boiled anything he could find with healing properties to make an unappetizing broth but at the very least it would help your body fight. 

“This smells terrible.”

“Humor me.” You gag as you get another whiff but manage to down a few sips. The lukewarm liquid soothes your throat so, against your tastebuds screaming otherwise, you sigh in relief. “Is that better?” 

You nod and give him a quarter of a smile. 

“Is there nothing else I can do?” 

“You can brush my hair.” Eris looks towards the healer for her approval. “So long as you only touch her with a brush, it should be fine, High Lord.”

He  massages your scalp with the soft bristles of the brush andthen proceeds to rid your hair of the tangles being in bed had caused. If he was being honest, it looked like a bird’s nest. He’s as gentle as he can, and a loud snore makes his heart jump to his throat. You’d fallen asleep again. 

“Her fever is better, I will return by sunrise to check again. If anything happens please do not hesitate to call, High Lord.” 

“Thank you, Willa.” She nods and pats him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine, my Lord.”

It’s morning when Eris wakes up in the chair beside your bed. A sneeze that startled both of you was his good morning. “I need a handkerchief.” You request while covering your nose and mouth with your hands. Eris digs into his pocket and gives you his. “Don’t look at me while do this, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” 

You roll your eyes and just urge him to “look away!” He does and what follows in a wet, squelching sound he cannot imagine is coming from the beautiful creature on the bed. “All done,” you say in a defeated tone. The energy you had gathered from sleep had been wiped out by a sneeze and a blow of the nose. 

“How are you feeling?” It takes you a while to reply as you cuddle up closer to the pillows substituting Eris’ body. “A bit better, I suppose.” 

“You said you’d be back to normal today.” What if you had taken a turn for the worse? Had the fever been too much?

“It’s not an exact science, my love. But my throat doesn’t hurt anymore, so I am better.” 

  “You’ll be the death of me I swear.” You reach your hand out to his. He hesitates. 

“I don’t have a fever anymore, hold my hand.” He has no power agaisnt his mate and has been craving your touch for hours. Your hand is icy in his, but its just as soft as he remembers it. “See, I’m right here, not going anywhere yet.” 

Yet. Because you had your days numbered, illness or not. He would never be ready to part. Never wants to face eternity with out you. So he reaches out to the gods again, hoping at least one would take up his bargain.

[boyfhee]

이희승 、SHARED VICE

heeseung has a bad habit, but with your help, he can fix it. unforeseeably, you turn out to be a bad influence instead.

ꔫ pairings : play boy! heeseung x fem reader ꔫ warnings : kissing, implications of smoking ꔫ notes : this was supposed to be a roommate series

“i thought i told you to clean up,” your voice takes in the way he fixes his t-shirt while looking in the mirror, pausing for a brief second as his eyes settle on you before travelling back to his reflection in front of him.

“giving me orders in my own room,” and he sounds a little too haughty, especially with the smirk that dances on his lips. his eyes travel down to you— up and down, as he looks at you with a teasing glint, kicking a few empty packets of snacks lying around his gaming setup aside.

“that’s a nasty habit,” you’re commenting this for the thousandth time ever since he moved in, the scoff that falls off his lips tells you how much he expected you to say the same words over again. 

“everyone has one,” he shrugs, sighing as he pushes the keyboard further on the desk, leaning against it before his lips curl up into a cheshire grin as he leans down towards you. “you have too, i know about it; your very, very nasty habit,”

and you feel your breath get stuck in your throat, knowing a little too well where this conversation was heading. he stares at you for a while, finally bored as he sighs, getting up from the desk and taking a step towards you— careful not to break eye contact. 

“i’m off, hope you clean this—” but you’re quick to react, taking a step back just as soon as he leans closer, looking away and pointing your index finger at the empty packets and unwashed clothes lying around. “—shit,”

“lend me a hand?” he leans back with a soft sight, slightly tilting his head to the side, the grin on his face never leaving. “i could really use some help here,”

“and why would i do that?”

“maybe, i can help you with your nasty habit in return,” he suggests with a certain innuendo, towering over you with a heavy gaze, one that figuratively makes it difficult for you to even move. “roommates need to look out for each other, right?”

and heeseung is a wrong deal in himself.

you’ve seen the way girls around the campus fawn over him and also the way they walk out of his room with tears. you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve come back to the apartment, seeing him with a new girl. you know better than gravitating straight towards him, although your heart keeps swerving. you hate his habits, he smells of cigarettes and the strawberry candies that keep his mouth busy during hours of valorant sessions. it’s a deadly combination, vinously so.

“i don’t know—” 

“you can stare at me all you want while helping me clean the room,” another step towards you, another step back taken by you— and you’re against the edge of the bed, whipping your head around frantically as you almost stumble, although not sure if it’s because of his actions or the close proximity in between. “don’t you like to do that, pretty?”

or if it’s both.

“we’ve only been roommates for a while but i know exactly what you’re thinking right now,” he leans down further, lips almost brushing against yours. “do you think i haven’t noticed your eyes being all over me?”

your mouth is dry, mind rushing at thousand miles per minute to think of any words to defend yourself. you thought, you’ve been discreet with it— the stolen glances at him from across the room, the subtle smile on your lips whenever you two talk, despite most of it being just annoying banter. it wasn’t news to your friends when you told them about your little crush on your roommate, however you made sure to keep it a secret from him. he tilts his head to the other side, gazes switching between your eyes as your lips, the feeling incomparable to how you’re drawing him in.

“hee—” you’re cut off by the sudden movement of his arm around your waist, perhaps to keep you from falling down on the bed, but maybe it’s yet another excuse, this time made to hold you close, just enough to make you feel all the butterflies.

“maybe,” the words caress against your lips, making your head dizzy. “it’s a shared vice,” and before you could retract— his lips are yours, hands pulling you close by your waist to hold you in place, feverishly kissing you as you feel his tongue brush against your lips. 

it's another nasty habit, one he can’t get rid of— the one he won’t get rid of, especially at the way your lips feel against his, it aligns with how he thought you’d taste. your hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt in nervousness and yet, you leave him breathless and intoxicated with the lack of air. it’s like a drug, gets worse the way your hands hesitatingly rest on his chest as he tilts your head, pulling you even deeper into the kiss. it’s an addiction, and good for heeseung, you’re just as hooked as him.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 14: Uniform - Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You worked for SHIELD and had a huge crush on Natasha, so what do you do when she corners you one day, begging for your help as her zipper is broken and she's struggling to remove her uniform.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, anxious!reader, mutual pining, kissing, flirting, fingering, oral

A.N: Sorry this is a day late!

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“I need your help”, came the sultry feminine voice from your bedroom door, completely snapping you out of the fantasy world you were currently daydreaming about from the book in your hand.

You knew who was there before turning in her direction in shock and surprise. “Help? Me? You need me?” your cheeks warmed at your noticeable stutter with questioning as you looked at the beautiful red-haired woman standing at your door. Natasha Romanoff was smirking at you with her hand on her hip and wearing the tight-fitting black widow suit, recently returning from a mission. She looked dangerous and deadly, but from what you could see, none of her weapons were attached to her anymore, even though she was a weapon. 

Natasha tilted her head to the side, her eyes flicking across the room, taking in every detail of your bedroom, and you wished you had cleaned up before she arrived. Standing nervously from your bed, your book is thrown onto the bedside drawer without marking the page with the urgency to give the woman your attention.

She doesn’t say anything; she just continues to look at you with her piercing eyes before nodding her head in the opposite direction, a sign that she wants you to follow her down the hall. You were a SHIELD agent and are currently staying at the Avengers headquarters as you continue to train for missions. You’d made some good friends here and enjoyed finally being able to use your skills for something that mattered.

This was all until you realised that the Avengers themselves actually lived there, not just the agents. You assumed they had their own homes for privacy, but this was not the case, so day after day, you had to see people like Natasha who could casually walk into your bedroom. Your crush on the Avengers was rampant, having admired her since before even joining the institute. Who wouldn’t find her attractive? She was among the most fierce and beautiful women you’d ever seen.

Natasa, ever the spy, was well aware of the effect she had on others and, most of the time, enjoyed shooting down anyone who attempted to flirt with her, walking away without a glance back at them. But not you. Never you. It is evident to everyone who worked at the  Avengers headquarters that you had a deep-seated crush on Natasha, from the fleeting glances out of the corner of your eyes or how you would stammer and stutter over your words when she was close by. You were fascinated with her, but rather than being a strong, independent woman, you resorted to being a nervous wreck, hardly even looking her in the eye because you were so anxious to talk to the beautiful woman.

This only became a fun game for Natasha, who found your crush incredibly endearing, cute even and found any excuse possible to try to talk to you, even adding your name to missions so that she knew you were close by. The more time she spent with you, the more she developed her crush; she was just better at hiding it. It was a fun little game at your expense, and today, Natasha was hoping it would be the end to it all, bored with the teasing.

Natasha walked confidently down the hall, through a set of double doors and into the Avengers section of the building. You nearly tripped over your feet, trying to look around at the area you’d not been to before she halted in front of a door, entered a key code and walked in. The weapons and expensive dress decorating the indicted where she’d taken you. You paused on the threshold to her bedroom, unsure if she meant for you to follow her in here, but she urgently waved you further so she could close the door.

Hiding your trembling fingers behind your back, you turned towards Natasha, your eyes wandering above her head as you couldn’t stomach looking into her beautiful face. “So, um, what do you need help with, Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha tried not to grin at the formal way you addressed her. “It’s pretty embarrassing, actually”, she began, her posture changing completely as her shoulders hunched slightly inwards whilst curling some of her red hair behind her ears to appear as if she was embarrassed. “My zip snapped during the mission, and now, I can’t remove my uniform, and the material has been specially made, so I can’t just cut it off”.

Your mouth suddenly filled with saliva as you automatically glanced at where her zipper stopped, just above her cleavage. Once you realised you were staring, you quickly looked back down to the ground, finding the carpet incredibly interesting all of a sudden.

“Why are you asking me for help and not the seamstress?” you asked when you finally found the courage to find your voice.

“The seamstress doesn’t work on Saturdays, and you’re one of the only people I trust here, so I need to hold the two pieces of material together at the top, and you somehow shimmy the zip down”.

There was only white noise blasting through your head at her request, and without giving yourself time to overthink, you closed the distance between each other. The tips of your shoes brushed against hers as you lifted your fingers to grab the zip buckle. Natasha could see the tremor in your fingertips as she grabbed the two sections of material and tried to squeeze them together.

It was difficult at first to grab the metal, especially as your hands began to sweat, but ever so slowly, the zip descended lower, inch by inch. More of her skin began to be revealed. Her cleavage, her sternum, then lower over her navel until the very edge of her public area, which, to your amazement, was neatly trimmer and a brunette shade.

As you comprehended what you were actually looking at, you stepped away, hands rubbing at your sides like you’d made the gravest mistake possible, scared that Natasha would be upset for revealing so much of her body. However, the assassin was unphased and began to pull her arms from her uniform, pushing the black material off her shoulders, down her waist and hips and then kicking off her shoes and attire, leaving it in a pile on the floor.

“You… You don’t wear any underwear beneath your uniform”, you whispered beneath your breath in awe before quickly looking at that entertaining patch of carpet on the floor, realising you’d been staring at her naked body. Your entire body heated with embarrassment and arousal as you crossed one leg over the other to try and squeeze your thighs together to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling. 

Natasha shrugged at your observation, “I find that the uniform is so tight that I can’t wear any underwear without the seams being seen, so it’s easier to go without”. Nodding your head at her explanation, you continued looking anywhere but at her. Natasha took a dainty step towards you, her smile growing more prominent, “Are you afraid of nakedness?”

You make a point of forcing yourself to look at her whilst folding your arms over your chest. “No, of course not. I just thought it would be polite to give you some privacy”.

Natasha bites the inside of her lips to stop from just outright grinning and laughing in your face. “I don’t mind. You can look”, she quips whilst raising one of her eyebrows suggestively.

You weren’t sure if this was a test, but as your eyes lowered, you thanked whatever gods were listening to this one moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. She was well toned, given her lifestyle and training methods, and scars littered over her body, which was evidence of her work as stabbings or gunshots clearly created them. You were mesmerised by her beauty, from her perfectly trimmed mound, her toned abs, and up to her round, full breasts.

Until that is, something piqued your interest, “Do you have your nipples pierced?”

Natasha tipped her head back and laughed, looking down at her perked nipples with a shrug of her shoulders, making them jiggle with the movement. “Yeah, they’ve made me quite sensitive, but I thought it would be fun. Plus, they’re super cute”.

“You are”, you say, admiring her breasts, but then your eyes go wide in shock, realising what you’d just said and the soft tone you’d said it in. “I mean, they are- the piercings are -I didn’t mean to sound inappropriate, sorry. I didn’t mean- I just- I wasn't, um-”

Natasha took a step forward, closing the gap entirely so that you could now feel the warmth of her skin; she was that close. Her beautiful, naked body within your bubble, you never wanted it to leave.

“It’s ok, I know what you meant. You’re cute when you’re all embarrassed”.

“I…I am?” you say, looking at her like she had grown another head because there was no way Natasha Romanoff just called you cute in any sense of the word, especially when you’re whining away anxiously.

“You are. Might be why I asked you to come and help me rather than the others. Nothing like a cute girl helping to undress me”. You flush at the obvious flirtatious advances, trying your hardest to continue looking into her forest-green eyes that seem to delve deep into your soul. “You’re even more cuter when you’re like this. Reacting more to my words than my naked body. God, I could just eat you right up.” Natasha lifts her slender fingers and runs the back of them over your eyes and around your ear. “I’ve been watching you, y’know?. It's so hard to talk to a cute girl like you when you’re running away from me every time I enter the room”.

“I’m just nervous”, you say and instantly chastise yourself for stating the obvious.

It doesn’t, phas Natasha thought as her other hand gently grasped yours, interlocking your fingers as she stated, “I know. You don’t have to be nervous, Sugar. I only want good things, I promise”.

She lifts the hand that is holding hers, kissing the palm ever so softly and then moves it so you’re holding her face. “You don’t have to be nervous to do anything with me”, Natasha continues, “I want you to feel safe with me. I want to get to know you on a personal and physical way, if you understand what I’m alluding to”.

Your mouth didn’t want to work, with the worry of just blurting out that you were in love with her, so you nodded your head to show your understanding. Being brave, you allowed your fingers to explore her sharp cheekbones, admiring the delicateness of her skin and shocked when she even began to nuzzle into your palm.

“Can I touch you?” she asks sincerely, her eyes wide with hope and yet restrained, not wanting to frighten you off. As your fingers brush through her silky hair, you nod your head, wanting her very much to touch you in any way possible.

Natasha lifts both hands to press against your hairline, exploring your face like she was trying to map every inch of you. Lower she descended, over your cheeks, your nose and finally your lips, pulling on the bottom one with her thumb, which had your eyes automatically dropping to look at hers.

You want to kiss so severely that it almost makes you ache and beg. It seemed Natasha also knew this and had another idea in mind as she implored in the most innocent voice, “Touch me lower”.

You do as instructed, over her jaw and down her long neck, then press her collarbones again, wondering if this is the area where you should stop. However, Natasha raises her eyebrow again in question, so you take that as your queue to explore lower. Your eyes never leave hers as your fingers run down the centre of her sternum, directly between her breasts, until they stop at the base of her sternum.

Deciding to be brave for once in your life, your fingers skimmed the underside of her heavy breasts, and you watched in delight as her breath hitched, chest leaning into the touch. You take this as a good sign and reach for her hard nipples that have a simple metal bar through the centre.

Natasha groans, even though all you’ve done is graze over the bundle of nerves. “So sensitive”, she explains and reminds you of her predicament.

Pulling your hand away, thinking you’d done something she didn’t want, you apologise quickly, “Sorry!”

However, with her lightning-fast reaction, Natashas quickly grabs your retreating hands and pulls them back to cup her again. “I like it. I like everything you do to me and want to do”.

Before you can overthink anymore, Natasha is pressing her face towards yours, eyes closing and lips connecting with yours. Your whole body reacts instantly, leaning closer and mewling into her mouth, pushing harder. Her lips were so plump they felt like soft, warm clouds against your face, and you’re obsessed, crazy for more, never wanting this moment to stop.

But of course, it does as Nat pulls back for a second, and you’re trying to chase after her with your lips, which causes the woman to giggle. “Can I take this off?” she asks, pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You nod, heart beating so hard on your chest you were sure she would be able to hear. Lifting your arms above your head, Natasha removes the article of clothing and begins to admire your black bra. “I love this”. She eyes it for a second before realising that it unclasps from the front. Natasha internally praised you for being so beautiful as she reached to undo the clasp, exposing your breasts to her.

She moans in wonderment at your beauty, cursing herself for waiting this long before making a move. Natasha couldn’t wait any long as her head dipped to lick across your nipple, causing your back to arch to press her face closer, and your fingers gripped into her hair to hold her there.

Something seemed to snap in you, whether the confidence blooming in your core or the anxiety melting away. Either way, you were in this situation, and there was no way you were letting it go to waste. As the red-haired woman sealed her lips around your other nipple, licking and sucking the bud into her mouth, you swiftly pulled her off by your hands behind in her hair, but only to kiss her deeply and passionately.

Whether it was your enthusiasm to kiss her or Natasha’s excitement that you were beginning to feel more confident, something knocked the two of you back so that you were now led on her perfectly made bed. Natasha doesn’t waste a second and is climbing on top of you, straddling your waste with her naked body now hovering over yours. You touch her everywhere now, her thighs, over her arse to pull her hips closer, up her back to then cup her head.

It was everything you wanted and more; couldn’t get enough of her taste, smell, and warmth. Everything about her, you wanted it every day, all the time. She was sweet and delicate with you, but eventually, Natasha too was becoming fevering with her touches and needing more of you.

“I wanna taste you”, she admits against your lips, just as her tongue dares to peek before yours.

“Are you sure?” you asked uncertainly.

Natasha laughed against your mouth, moving to kiss down your throat over the areas that had your toes curling as she confirmed, “Yes, I’m sure I want to eat you out.”

Your only answer was a grin that caused your cheeks to ache with how giddy you felt. Natasha kissed your lips once more before shuffling down your body, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses, tasting every area of your skin she could reach, and spending special particular attention on your breasts. Teasing and sucking on them until you begged her to move lower with how intense your arousal was becoming. 

Natasha noted this, deciding that the next time the two of you were intimate, she wanted to see if she could make you cum just by nipple stimulation. Lower she moved, every touch was gentle and calm, even as she unbuttoned your jeans and began to lower them as well as your underwear down your legs, with the help of you lifting your hips, her fingers still were careful about where she touched.

She then began her journey up, kissing and licking all the places that were most sensitive, like your inner knee and thighs, until she was face to face with the area causing you the most ache.

Her eyes met yours, and a devilish smirk on her lips made you wonder what you had gotten yourself in for as her mouth met your more intimate areas. You broke eye contact first, but only because your body jolted, and you had to force your back to arch, spreading your legs further on the bed as your head tipped back.

Natasha's lips were just as plump and soft against your pussy as they were against your mouth. She kissed you there first, savouring the warmth and liquid that had already leaked from your cunt. The noises you were already whimpering were like music to her ears, so desperate and needy.

Carefully, her tongue licked long strips up your folds before adding pressure and parting them, moving deeper until she was poking at your hole that was already contracting with your arousal around nothing. She contemplated for a moment letting her tongue fuck you, but instead, she paid particular attention to your throbbing clit. Tentative, agonisingly slow circles did the tip of her tongue move around the bud before she pressed the flat front of her tongue and gave it a long lick.

“Natasha!” you cried out, hand moving to grip her hair to hold her there. Nat thought it was adorable seeing you falling apart like this so quickly. She hummed against your pussy which caused vibrations to purr into the nerves, which caused your thighs to tremble and clench with the stimulation.

Nat tickled the backs of your thighs to get them to relax again before travelling the length of the limb until the area where your tongue was still pleasuring. Her middle finger circled your eagerly awaiting hole, and as she sucked on the bundle of nerves, she inserted the finger carefully. In and out and moved before adding a second finger, beginning to stretch your cunt. Your hips began rolling of their own accord, desperate to match the pace of Natasha’s tongue and fingers, which had just started to curl to press against the sensitive spot inside you.

“That feels so good, right there!” Natasha didn’t plan on stopping making you feel this good, but she did contemplate just how pretty you’d look after being edged a few times. She just added that to the lengthening list of things she wanted to try with you in the future.

You had to bite your lower lip as your cries of joy were beginning to echo around the bedroom, still holding onto the red hair and essentially fucking yourself on her fingers and tongue. Opening your eyes, you looked down at the green eyes that were watching your every move.

“Please kiss me”, you asked desperately with a slight quiver in your voice as you were getting closer to orgasming.

Natasha grins, licking her lips and crawling back up your body whilst still curling her fingers, her thumb pressing and rolling your clit instead of her tongue. Her mouth was hungry against yours, forcing your lips wider so she could stroke your mouth's crevices, making sure you could taste yourself from her.

You reach out for her, wanting to feel her body just as badly as she wants to hear you cum, but she has other ideas. The hand you reached for her with was held firmly against the bed as Natasha shook her head. “This is just about you today; there will be so much more time for me in the future. Just enjoy this, Sugar”.

You could have melted at the pet name she’d picked and rushed forward to kiss her feverishly one more, hips rolling and working in time with the curl of her fingers and thumb. She was making you feel so good, expertly touching your body, gripping the back of your head to hold your close.

Resting her temple on yours, she looked at you with glazed eyes and demanded, “Cum for me; I want to see you cum on my fingers, pretty girl”. Her words had your core tightening in arousal, your mouth gaping open to gasp and share the same air as her she was that close to you. “That’s it, you’re doing so well for me. I know you’re close. I can feel it on my fingers; you’re so wet for me, so tight, Sugar. Cum for me”.

Your body convulsed as your orgasm rocketed through your very centre, thighs trembling, arms struggling to hold you up as your pussy squeezed in flutters around her fingers. She didn’t stop her rocking motion; those sweet curls of her two fingers, not under you, had sagged back onto the bed to catch your breath.

Carefully, she eased her fingers out of you, putting on a broad display of her licking your fingers and dramatically moaning at the taste before lying down next to you, resting her head on her elbow.

“Do you wanna go and get some food?  There’s a cute Italian place about half an hour from here”, Natasha asks casually whilst stroking your cheek with the hand that had just been between your legs.

“What? Like a date?” you asked with the tremor returning to your voice as you stared at her with widening eyes.

Natasha takes one look at you and laughs, tipping her head back with how funny she found it. “I’ve just licked you out and had you cumming on my fingers, and you’re getting nervous about a date? You’re too fucking cute, Sugar. Yes, it’s a date. What do you say?”

Your cheeks heat at her amusement, but you’re soon joining her with smiling, nodding your head and saying, “Yes, I’d love to go on this date with you”.

[libertyybellls]

EYE CANDY !

pairing; finnick odair x f!victor!reader

summary; finnick odair is charming, finnick odair is strong, finnick odair is so easy to see through.

contains; slight mention of underage drinking, uhhhh a glimpse into forced prostitution if u squint, fluff.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’d survived 21 days in the wilderness, fighting for your life, only to return to the capital and refuse to where, what you called; “extravagant pony get-ups.” it was either you’d dress yourself or you simply wouldn’t attempt your own crowning.

your responses in your interviews were bold, carefully played. unique and engaging enough to be sought after but tamed enough to still appease the capitol citizens.

finnick had heard what people had said about you, some had said you were too disorderly and rowdy- others thought you were careless and young enough to bring a new sense of purpose.

finnick however, could care less about what others thought, the minute he’d seen your interviews- he needed to meet you, to see this whole charade for himself.

it was at a capitol party, your mentor in your games had left your side and finnick was ready to sink his teeth in. you bumped into his shoulder- turning around abruptly.

his smile, his perfect hair- you knew he thought he could make you faint by one look, you however, saw this as a challenge. taking it a upon yourself to stick your hand out in introduction; “y/n l/n, and you are?”

finnick laughed, bringing your hand up to his lips, “finnick odair. i’ve seen your recklessness in the capitol- and i adore it.”

now he was really trying to woo you, you let out a genuine laugh at his antics. “that’s cute, finnegan. sadly, i have a party to get back to!” you continued to laugh out as your body slid past his, his jaw was slack, his head was hanging low.

this was clearly not what he had intended to happen.

you two would run into eachother plenty of times sense then, seeing as you were both eye-candy to the capitol. each time your assaults on his ego would lessen until you were able to have decent conversations.

you were unlike anyone or anything he’d ever seen before, you looked so sweet yet your stare was deadly, your voice was soft but your words laced with venom.

he’d learned very quickly that your mind was only stuck on surviving, on getting out. but he was there for you.

he’d been there for you when you’d been too wasted on whatever you’d drunk at the capitol for your own good. he’d been there for you when your strong facade had broken, been there for you on the highs and lows.

he admired your fashion, it was so different from what he’d seen those in the capitol wear, but also had that unique pop of color or grande effects.

he’d seen every district before, spent many night with women and men of the capitol yet he’d never seen someone who was born into such a grey atmosphere embrace color so openly at the same time.

he’d definelty watch you do your makeup in the morning, making little comments “how did you do that?” and “how are you going so close to your eyeball?”

-

[jahayla-parker]

FINNICKKKKK🥰

okay what about... r and fin both being victors from district 4 and sent into the quarter qwell? and r being really shy and quite and fin is super protective of her. maybe an established relationship?

The Timid Tribute : Finnick Odair x Reader

(Finnick Odair x Victor!Reader / Finnick Odair x Tribute!Reader / Finnick Odair x District4!Reader / Finnick Odair x Gf!Reader / Finnick Odair x fem!reader)

Descr: 6k wc, Finnick and his timid girlfriend find themselves in the arena for a second time thanks to the 75th Hunger Games being the 3rd Quarter Quell. Despite the odds and their allegiance to protect Katniss Everdeen, Finnick will do whatever it takes to protect y/n.

Warnings: Hunger Games type warnings, violence, trauma, blood and injuries, fighting, death(s) [not main characters], and related. Please let me know if I missed anything!

The News

“Honey?” Finnick frowned. He watched as y/n continued to sit in complete silence, just staring at the now-black screen. “Please talk to me,” he encouraged softly while he scooted closer to her on the couch. “Come on,” he pleaded as he cautiously pulled her to him, hoping to avoid startling her. Finnick knew they were both already drowning in emotions over having heard the announcement from the Capitol just moments ago. Yet, the anguish in his heart amplified when y/n’s timid eyes flickered over to him as she visibly tried to maintain her composure. The second he saw the wobbling of her bottom lip, Finnick nodded emphatically and rubbed her back. “I know, I know,” he cooed.

“Finn…,” y/n attempted, her voice cracking. She tried to swallow the tight lump in her throat. “F-F-Finn, I… can’t, I can’t,” she whimpered, still staring at the blank television screen despite the way Finnick had her head resting on his chest.

“You won’t, okay?” Finnick vowed, his heart beating rapidly. “Chances are, you won’t get reaped,” he argued. He wasn’t sure if that was necessary statistically true. But, it was what y/n needed to hear. And what Finnick needed to be true.

“Finnick,” y/n sighed, leaning back to look at her boyfriend’s face. “M-Mags can’t,” she pointed out as she shook her head. Mags was District 4’s oldest surviving victor and far too sweet for her own good. “Annie, she… still isn’t herself yet,” y/n added, explaining why the only other surviving female victor apart from herself was not a viable option to be reaped for the Quarter Quell.

“What are you saying?” Finnick croaked, his normally honey-coated voice coming out gruff from fear.

“Finn..,” y/n whined softly. She didn’t want to have to say it. Hell, she didn’t want to even think it. But, realistically, she couldn’t let Mags or Annie be reaped. While understandably none of them would want to return to the deadly arena they once won, y/n was the only one who stood a chance. As victors of their own games, none of them were supposed to have to fight in the Games ever again. But, unsurprisingly, Snow and the Capitol changed the rules. As terrifying as it was to think about having to endure that trauma all over again, y/n knew she couldn’t stand by if Annie or Mags had their names drawn for the reaping. It was between the three of them. And while she loved them both, y/n had no faith in either of their survivals should they be chosen.

“No,” Finnick stated firmly. He sharply angled his body towards y/n. He shook his head. “Y/n, you’re not-,” he begged.

“It’s not like I want to,” y/n whispered. She felt horrible about it herself. And even more so when it came to what she was asking Finnick to be okay with. She sniffled as her guilt over worsening his predicament brought tears cascading down her face.

Finnick sighed deeply. He reached over and gently pulled y/n back towards him. “It could be Shaynee,” he argued weekly. No one had heard from the last remaining female victor in nearly two years. No one in District Four really knew if she was even still alive. But, Finnick had to hold onto the small chance that it wouldn’t be the love of his life going into the Quarter Quell. He didn’t want Shaynee to have to either. But, he’d easily admit he preferred it to be her rather than y/n.

Y/n nodded wordlessly against Finnick’s chest. She opted to sit their in silence for a moment, just enjoying his presence. As the overwhelming worry she’d had since hearing the news continued to alarm inside her head, she gripped onto Finnick tightly. “I can’t lose you, Fin,” she cried.

Finnick closed his eyes and tucked y/n’s head under his chin. “You won’t, honey,” he whispered, “okay?” His calloused and sea salt-dried hands caressed her back. “You’re always going to have me, angel”.

Y/n failed to keep her composure. She clung onto Finnick’s shirt as she sobbed. Leaning back, she gazed up at him, giving him a knowing frown.

Finnick read y/n’s unspoken argument and took a deep breath. “There are two other male victors, we’ll both be fine”. He was done having this conversation, done with this being their reality. He was done with everything that wasn’t just holding her and savoring her presence. So that’s what he did. Finnick lifted y/n into his lap and hooked his legs and arms around her as he lightly swayed side to side.

Reaping Day

Y/n timidly gazed over at Finnick from the female victors’ side of the stage. She was struggling to keep her eyes clear after having heard Mags be reaped for this year’s Quarter Quell. She knew Finnick didn’t want her to volunteer to take anyone’s place. But, when saw his evident anguish over their beloved Mags having been chosen, there really wasn’t much thought that had to go into her next move. Mags had been like a mother to him over the years. Mags was one of the only other people Finnick let himself get close to. He couldn’t lose her, and if Mags went into the arena, she wouldn’t come out. Y/n on the other hand, might actually stand a chance. “I volunteer,” y/n’s voice creaked out.

Y/n had spoken the words Finnick feared so quietly that the person drawing the victors’ names barely even heard her. Yet, Finnick’s ears had long ago been trained to pick up on y/n’s timidly soft voice. And this time, her words felt devastatingly loud. Finnick fought to move closer to y/n in order to stop her, but the peacekeepers promptly held him back.

As Y/n stood at the front of the reaping stage, she kept her eyes faced out at the crowd. She couldn’t bear to see Finnick’s anger, sense of betrayal, fear, and pain. She also couldn’t stand to see Mags’s reaction to y/n offering to take her place. Nor could she handle seeing Annie’s -while understandable- tears of relief in having escaped being reaped a second time.

Yet, when Finnick’s name was called out as the male victor headed back into the arena, her head whipped back to face him. Her knees shook as she struggled to keep standing. Her eyes were wide and already drowning in tears. All of her breath left her lungs, making her choked sobs silent.

Finnick of course hadn’t ever wanted to go back into the arena again. But, hearing his name called today didn’t phase him the way he had expected. To be fair, he’d expected that hearing it would’ve meant he’d be leaving y/n’s side. That it would’ve meant leaving her to the riots taking place lately in District 4. That he’d be forced to leave her to fend for herself while he was gone fighting for the ability to be to return to her. Only now, in reality, hearing his name read aloud from the reaping podium meant he could go with y/n. It meant he’d be able to protect her and see to it that she remain unharmed during this year’s games, at least to the furthest extent possible. Nevertheless, his heart broke as he witnessed y/n’s despair over him having been chosen.

The Capitol

Finnick glared pointedly at the female tribute from District 2. He was beyond furious with the tributes, mostly the careers, looking at y/n like she was prey as she wandered around the training facility. He knew that she came across as an easy target. And while he never judged her timidity, he knew he needed to put an end to it. She had to show that she was capable of holding her own against the other tributes. Which she was. They just hadn’t seen that yet. While he was not planning on separating from her at any point in the arena, he needed to make them understand the consequences of trying to harm her should it happen against his wishes.

Finnick smiled proudly at y/n as she cluelessly sipped on the water bottle he’d given her. She just finished unknowingly showing off her skills to a room full of leering competitors. He knew she never felt confident in her abilities, so instructing her to show them off wouldn’t have worked well for the two of them. So, instead, he simply encouraged her to train and freshen up on skills she hadn’t had to use in awhile.

“You look hot,” Finnick grinned, his hands on y/n’s waist.

“Still?” Y/n questioned, trying to figure out why the water hadn’t cooled her face. “Oh,” she giggled, catching on to Finnick’s flirtatious meaning. She playfully hit his chest, smiling as he took hold of her hands and pulled her to his chest.

Finnick chuckled and pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head. He knew he was being rather forward with such an act, but he didn’t care. They were both headed to their potential deaths and he was going to cherish any time he had left with her. Plus, he knew it would act as a warning to the others that his alliance was with y/n. And as such, he figured it would help protect her even further.

Finnick’s nostrils flared as he fought to keep his protectiveness in check. He was backstage with y/n as she nervously waited for her turn to do her interview with Caesar. He knew that several of the male victors-turned-tributes around them were ogling at the lack of coverage from the gown y/n’s stylist had dressed her in for the evening. Finnick could read the impure thoughts and temptations in their eyes way too easily; having recognized those looks far too well. He used his torso to shield as much of her exposed body as possible as he held her gaze.

“Hey, angel,” Finnick cooed, tenderly guiding y/n’s head back towards him instead of on the screen playing back his interview and the message he had intended for her. “Just breathe,” he guided as he watched her try to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “You’ll get through this and then I’ll make sure our mentors have y/f/f ice-cream ready when we get back to the dorms, okay?” He smiled at the faint grin that formed on her lip. “I’ll be right here, pretend like you’re just talking to me if it helps you connect with Caesar and the audience more, yeah?”

The Games

Finnick had agreed to Heavensbee’s proposed plan to help Katniss the instant they’d offered to get y/n and himself out of there alive. That had been Finnick’s only mission since the moment she volunteered in place of Mags. Now, he finally had a realistic way to make that happen.

Yet, that didn’t stop Finnick from panicking when he saw how far away y/n was when they rose on their pedestals into the arena. He was just glad she had agreed to listen to his guidance to stay away from the cornucopia. He knew she’d be upset that he himself went into that certain bloodbath, but he needed to get their supplies and to inform Katniss of their alliance.

Y/n scanned the arena, hoping to get an idea of the landscape before total chaos erupted. She had located Finnick’s pedestal the moment her eyes adjusted to the fake sun glaring down at them. So, while waiting for the countdown to end, she let her eyes search for any other information that might come in handy later on in the games.

When the game commenced, y/n ran along the stone path to reach the meeting place she and Finnick had discussed. They’d established they would meet at whatever the tallest item was between wherever their two pedestals rose. As she skillfully ran along the wet stones, she glanced over to see much distance Finnick had made so she could adjust her speed accordingly. Only, she caught sight of him making his way to the cornucopia.

Y/n huffed loudly and cursed Finnick under her breath. While they technically hadn’t explicitly agreed that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like heading for the cornucopia on his own, before meeting up with her, she was livid. She knew why he’d done it, wanting to get himself a trident, and surely (a) y/f/w for her. But he couldn’t be doing that alone!

Y/n whipped her head around to check her left and right for any threats as she skidded to a halt on the stone path. She took a mental measurement of the distance from her location to the cornucopia at the center of the tribute pedestals and sucked in a breath deep enough to hold her through until she crossed that distance. She promptly dove straight into the water. She felt the drastic temperature change the moment she was under the freezing water. But, thankfully her time in District 4 had accustomed her to such.

Y/n peeled her eyes open and frantically swam towards the cornucopia, her fear for Finnick’s wellbeing driving her already impressive speed. Her body relaxed ever so slightly when she saw the refracted image of him above her on the shore. He was safe and not noticeably harmed. As she reached the edge of the cornucopia, she cautiously scanned the surface before pulling herself ashore.

“Y/n?!” Finnick panicked as he protectively pulled y/n’s wet body to her feet and placed her behind him. He quickly cornered her in the back area of the dome at the center of the cornucopia. That way she was shielded from any potential impending harm. “What are you doing?!” He scolded quietly, his eyes searching her for any visible signs of injury. “You agreed to-,” he began to remind her, stopping as his head whipped forward upon hearing someone scream.

When there were two simultaneous splashes and the screaming stopped, y/n let out a sigh of relief. “I panicked,” she explained, gripping Finnick’s wrist. “I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that, you can look after yourself...I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

Finnick sighed, and sensing there was no immediate threat, he turned around to face y/n. “No, no,” he whispered guiltily, her sorrow over having come to his defense evident in her eyes and shaky apologies. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he cooed, turning his wrist in y/n’s hand so he could hold hers. “I was just worried about you, angel,” Finnick explained, “it’s okay. Just stay here.”

“I can help,” y/n whispered, squeezing Finnick’s hand.

Finnick smiled lovingly down at y/n. “I know, I know you can,” he nodded. “Right now though, I need you to help by staying put, I just need to find Katniss, and then we’re getting off of this death trap,” he proposed. He kissed her forehead and placed a y/f/w in her hand before he turned around and headed to the entrance of the dome.

“You’re the girl who volunteered for the old lady that was reaped,” Katniss observed. “Right?” She asked, squinting at y/n.

Y/n bit her lip shyly and nodded. Her eyes flickered from Katniss’s gaze to Finnick’s uncertainly. When he smiled and nodded at her reassuringly, she let out a relieved sigh.

“Katniss,” Katniss introduced, holding her hand out towards y/n in symbolic gesture. “That was really brave of you,” she commented kindly.

Y/n sucked her lips in as she glanced at her ally’s extended hand. After getting nonverbal approval from Finnick, she accepted the girl’s hand and shook it. She noticed the expectant but nevertheless considerate look on Katniss’s face. “Oh,” she whispered bashfully. “Y/n,” she answered, offering a shy smile.

Finnick had taken any measures possible to keep y/n in his sights at all times. When their group ventured through the foreign terrain, he’d established y/n’s place as being between Katniss and himself. He elected to remain at the back of the group to ensure he always had eyes on her. By having her stay behind Katniss, he felt reassured that she wouldn’t be risking walking into a trap. He knew the deal they’d made with Heavensbee. But, that didn’t mean he was going to let y/n be put in danger along the way.

Finnick’s measures hadn’t accounted for y/n offering herself up to find Johanna though. As such, he was taken by surprise when she proposed the idea to Katniss as their group made a game plan. He’d tried to shut the notion down immediately, but it seemed y/n was holding her ground.

“I can find her, Fin,” y/n promised. Her fingers timidly picked at her cuticles as she waited for his response.

“We really shouldn’t split up,” Finnick argued, making his way back to her from where he’d been at helping Peeta sit back up after preforming CPR on their ally.

“One of us has to watch them,” y/n reminded him, nodding towards Katniss as she protectively knelt beside Peeta. “But, we also need to find Johanna,” she defended. Johanna was in on the alliance and the sooner their group was together in the arena, the better. They would be less of a target and more of a threat as a unit. Not to mention, y/n wanted to help the girl as she had become friends with Johanna over the years after winning her games.

Finnick hated the idea of y/n parting from his side. Not because he feared she couldn’t defend herself. But because he wanted to be there should she need backup. And because he simply despised the notion of being away from her for any length of time. Yet, Finnick wouldn’t risk making her more timid. Y/n was right about them needing to split up. And she needed to believe in herself in order to handle this. Regardless of if she stayed with the latest victors or if she went to find Johanna.

Finnick scanned y/n’s body once more as he yet again checked to ensure she was fully prepared to venture out on her own. He ensured she had proper attire for any situation she may encounter, a full array of weapons on her, her shoes and hair tied tightly, etc. Only after he’d established an agreed-upon time for her to return, or at least for her to make an audible signal that she was fine if she couldn’t return yet, did he let her leave to find their friend.

Finnick groaned as he hobbled over to the sandy shore to rest his body. He knew his troubled mind wouldn’t be able to rest, not with y/n still not back yet. But his body desperately needed it after what he and the District 12 victors had endured from the poisonous fog and fighting off the monkey mutts.

As Finnick carelessly plopped himself onto the sand, he stared out at the waves. Despite the water being extremely choppy due to the wind, it was nothing in comparison to the turmoil inside of him. Hours had passed. It had been not only hours since the time y/n had parted from his side, but also several hours since the time she was to return or at least alert him to her safety. Yet, she’d not returned to him yet. He realized it might be in part of them having to leave their original location due to the poisonous fog. But, that didn’t explain why he hadn’t heard or seen anything that signaled she was trying to communicate with him.

Y/n walked blindly as Johanna guided her to the water. Her vision was completely obscured from the surge of blood that had poured down on them. The gamemakers had decided to trap them in a rainstorm of blood. Where they’d got the blood in the first place wasn’t even something y/n had the capacity to question. The simple fact that she was soaked in blood that had been pouring on them for an hour straight was torturous enough.

Finnick tossed aside the seafood he’d caught for himself and their District 12 allies when he caught sight of y/n. She was covered in some dark yet shimmering substance, her right hand clasped in Johanna’s as they waded into the water roughly a mile down the shore. Finnick dashed across the sand towards them. His pace tripled when he was close enough to realize the substance coating y/n was blood.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Finnick screamed. “Are you okay?! Where have you been?!” He questioned after she timidly whispered his name in a relieved tone as he neared them.

“Not now Finnick,” Johanna greeted, shaking her head warningly at him as she continued to guide y/n further into the water.

“I found Johanna,” y/n murmured shyly, coughing when the blood still dripping down her head entered her parted lips.

Finnick frowned and rushed into the water. “Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, cupping y/n’s cheeks in his palms. He squinted worryingly when she flinched briefly at his touch, as if she didn’t know it was him. “Honey, tell me what happened,” he requested.

“Y/n got us out,” Johanna answered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before heading towards the others. “But that’s when the rain started,” she explained, shaking her head in annoyance. She scooped up water and poured it over Wiress’s head. “We thought it was water… It turned out to be blood. Hot thick blood that was coming down”.

“It was choking us,” y/n spoke up, reaching out and feeling around until she was able to clutch onto Finnick’s forearms. “We were stumbling around…gagging on it…blind,” she whimpered.

Finnick heard Johanna continue to explain the events, but he’d heard what he needed to know already. He rubbed y/n’s cheek with his thumb, frowning sympathetically at the amount of blood that came off with his touch. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love,” he offered, taking her hands in his.

“You’re okay, keep your eyes closed, honey,” Finnick instructed as he guided her to her knees in the water. He whispered various soothing sentiments as he tended to her, being sure to get all of the blood off of her. She didn’t need any lingering visual reminder of what she’d just gone through.

Finnick watched y/n’s chest closely as he tried to gauge her breathing. She was balled up between him and Johanna. Her head was resting on the edge of his shoulder as her hands were hooked around her knees. Finnick caught Johnna staring at him questioningly and he shook his head.

“Do you want me to make the others leave?” Finnick asked, worried by y/n’s shallow and quick breathing. “Or we could go for a walk, get some fresh air,” he offered. He figured Katniss trying to decipher Wiress’ rambling wasn’t helping y/n clear her mind.

Y/n shook her head. She could do this. She had to do this. She couldn’t fall apart now, they still had so long to go. She tried to take a deep breath, the intensity of its choppy sound making her panic worsen.

“Hey, just breathe,” Finnick guided, spinning around on the sand until he was seated in front of y/n. “Sugar, look at me, look at me,” he whispered, tilting her head up. When her eyes met his, he smiled supportively. “In and out, okay? Copy me”.

Y/n smiled tiredly as Finnick returned to her side. “Thank you,” she hummed shyly. She felt her already stabilizing heart rate relax further as his arms wrapped securely around her.

“I’m never letting you leave my side again,” Finnick vowed. “I was so worried,” he confessed as he rested his head on y/n’s.

Katniss had informed their group that the arena was set up like a clock, and they agreed to head to the Cornucopia to gather weapons, as well as to scan the area and verify her theory. The whole way there, Finnick was being overly protective of y/n. He knew she was already bouncing back from the blood rain, but still wished she could have more time to recover from the mental impacts of it before they had to head to such a risky location in the arena. As such, it wasn’t until Johanna had scanned the back of the cornucopia for threats that he let go of her hand so she could move freely.

Their group huddled over a diagram of the arena Peeta had drawn in the sand as they reviewed the different threats in each sector. Y/n felt eyes on her when Katniss asked if she’d seen anything during her time away from their group. She smiled faintly in appreciation to Johanna when she answered for y/n that all they’d seen was blood.

“It doesn't matter,” Peeta reassured y/n, sensing her remorse over not having known more information about the arena. “If we know which sector is active, we’ll be safe,” he concluded, standing up from his kneeling position in the sand.

“Yeah, relatively speaking,” Finnick remarked, unable to be as optimistic as Peeta given the hourly threats weren’t their only trouble.

Y/n’s eyes snapped away from Finnick at the sound of Wiress’ gasp. She pulled a knife out of her pocket and threw it at Gloss as he stood behind Wiress. She frowned as she noticed that despite her knife and Katniss’s arrow having struck Gloss flawlessly, the man had already taken Wiress’ life.

Finnick moved forward to keep y/n from running to Wiress as the woman collapsed to the ground.

Y/n tactically shoved Finnick aside, spinning to strike Cashmere with her newly obtained trident as the District 1 victor charged towards him. She knocked the tribute to the ground and they promptly wrestled against each other.

Finnick went to help y/n after having realized why she’d pushed him aside. Only, he found himself having to fight off Brutus instead. He growled as he attempted to finish the battle quickly.

Finnick had barely rose back up from his knees after a blade seemingly tossed by y/n scraped Brutus’s shoulder and scared him away when Peeta was running after the monster of a victor. He stopped Peeta’s offensive move, knowing he’d easily be outmatched by the District 2 tribute. He shoved Peeta’s resisting frame back as his eyes searched the cornucopia for y/n. Just as his eyes found y/n’s tousled hair, he was knocked down as the ground underneath him began to spin.

Y/n gasped as she was suddenly thrown off of Cashmere as the cornucopia rotated. Her fingers frantically searched the damp rocks for a place to hold onto. Just when she thought she’d found one, a slab of metal flung off the dome and knocked her hands off of the thin grasp she had on the structure of the cornucopia. She let out an uncharacteristic scream as her body tumbled down the wet foundation towards the water. It wasn’t the water that worried her, it was how fast the surface was spinning above the water that was the problem. If she were to hit the side of it on her way down, she’d suffer the same fate she just watched Cashmere endure.

“Y/n!” Finnick shouted upon hearing her scream. He held tightly onto the surface as he mentally pleaded for y/n to be okay. He instinctively caught Peeta when his body slid down the rocks beside him, keeping him afloat without having to shift his mind off of thoughts about y/n’s wellbeing. His blood ran cold as he heard his love let out another scream.

“Y/n! No!” Johanna screamed, futilely reaching towards the surging water below her. She and Katniss were both still struggling to stay on shore, but y/n had been flung off despite three victors’ best efforts.

Finnick found himself unable to breathe when the cornucopia stopped spinning. But it wasn’t from the surge of adrenaline, nor from the speed of the spinning motion. Instead, his fear and concern for y/n had rendered him breathless. He scrambled to his feet the second the surface stopped moving. The trident in his hand shook nervously as he frantically searched the island for her.

“Finnick!” Johanna shouted, waving him over.

“She fell in,” Katniss explained breathily, giving Finnick a remorseful look.

“F-Fi-,” y/n forced out, choking on the freezing water as she breached the shore. She hadn’t seen what happened to him after she’d thrown the blade at Brutus awhile ago. Long before the very ground they were on literally turned against them. She needed to know he was okay.

Finnick once again picked up on y/n’s quiet exclamation. His eyes snapped in the direction of her voice and he sighed in slight relief upon seeing her alive and breathing. He tossed his trident aside as he ran down the stone trail that lead to where she was. He helped her pull herself ashore, holding her to him immediately. “I thought I lost you,” he whimpered, tightening his grip on her frail and trembling body.

Finnick pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching y/n’s face. “Say something,” he begged. Her timidity was too concerning right now. “Are you hurt?!”

Y/n grabbed Finnick’s bicep as she staggered backwards to show him her leg. During her fight with Cashmere, she’d been stabbed in the thigh. Having been dragged down the rough surface of the cornucopia surely hadn’t done much to help the wound. She swallowed as she took note of just how much worse the injury now was.

“N…no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Finnick rambled, his eyes watering. He dropped to his knees, his hands pressing firmly against y/n’s wound. “Y/n?” He questioned when he didn’t hear her whimper even slightly at the pressure. His eyes gazed up at her as he sucked in short choppy breaths. “Hey, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,” he promised, seeing the defeated look in y/n’s eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Finnick instructed, adjusting his hand placement when Johanna ran up to him with a small first aid kit from the cornucopia. “O-okay? Honey,” he whispered, trying to prevent his voice from showing the fear that was surging inside him, “just focus on me… We’re going to be okay!”

As Katniss discussed the plan with Peeta, y/n walked over to Finnick. She tried to hide her limp, not wanting to worry him further. “Do you need anything Finn?” She asked softly as she set her hand on his shoulder.

Finnick quickly turned his head upwards, not knowing she was going with Katniss on the supply run. “No, love, where are you going?” He asked rhetorically. He knew where y/n was planning on going based off her question and the plan they’d all formed. But, he was hoping by asking she’d reconsider.

“She needs help,” y/n whispered shyly.

Finnick smiled lovingly at y/n but shook his head. “I’ll go with,” he proposed, knowing y/n wasn’t going to relent on her helping Katniss.

“Finny,” y/n sighed. “You don’t have t-“.

“I know,” Finnick said. He picked his trident up off the ground and took her hand in his other. “Ready?” He asked.

Y/n’s eyes shot open as she heard Finnick screaming her name. She whipped her head back and forth in search of her boyfriend. She silently ran after him as he bolted into the gathering of trees. She froze when she heard her own voice screaming for Finnick’s help. Jabberjays. “It’s not real!” She yelled, resuming her running. Only, the Jabberjays playback of her voice was far louder and Finnick had run too far for her to reach him.

“He can’t see you, stop!” Johanna explained, motioning towards the clear barrier between the hourly sectors as she held y/n back.

Katniss was on her knees, pressed up against the invisible divider between her and the others as the Jabberjays mimicked her sister Prim’s voice. The District 12 victor had been fortunate enough to see the others through on the opposite side of the divide before she was overtaken by the screaming. So at least she knew it wasn’t real.

Finnick wasn’t that lucky. He’d left Johanna watching over y/n as she and Peeta slept. Meanwhile he was only a few hundred feet away, teaching Katniss how to form some knots for the next step in their plan. That’s when the Jabberjays attacked. He hadn’t even thought to look back to where he’d last seen y/n when he heard her voice crying for him to help her. Instead, he instinctively rushed towards the sound. As such, he’d ventured further into the Jabberjay sector than Katniss and didn’t have the chance to see the others were safe, to see y/n was actually safe. Sure Katniss tried to remind him that they were just Jabberjays. But, he knew Jabberjays copied things they’d heard. Meaning y/n could very well be hurt somewhere in the arena somehow right now, begging for him to come to her rescue.

Tears streamed down Finnick’s face as he knelt on the damp grass. His hands were shaking as they covered his ears, his heart racing out of control. This had to be fake. The screams coming from the Jabberjays were excruciating. If y/n were truly screaming at that volume instead of the Jabberjays increasing it for the purpose of his torture, she had to be in a near-death state. He’d never heard her this loud before. It had to be fake. He couldn’t live without her. It had to be fake. It had to be.

“I know, I know,” y/n cooed as she embraced Finnick. She had wrapped herself around his crumpled frame the second the invisible barrier between them had absolved. “I’m here, handsome, I’m here,” she promised, gasping as he clung onto her.

“You’re sure you’re okay?!” Finnick repeated frantically, leaning back to see y/n. His eyes analyzed her several-hour-old wound on her thigh despite her nodding her head. He pulled her back into his embrace, pressing kisses all over her face.

Y/n gasped as Finnick jumped in front of her, intentionally trapping her between him and the tree behind her so she couldn’t take the arrow that Katniss had pointed at them instead of him.

“Katniss, remember who the real enemy is,” Finnick spoke calmly. He slid his foot backwards to signal for y/n to stop trying to wordlessly squirm her way out from behind him. He wasn’t going to let her try and block the arrow him hitting him. If one of them had to go down like this, it was going to be him.

Finnick didn’t need to see y/n’s expression to know she was too timid to say anything, her fear silencing her. Nor did he need words to know she was angry that he was making this decision for the both of them. But he had to.

Finnick let out a sigh when he watched Katniss move her bow away from him and point it towards the artificial sky above them. He felt y/n move to his side, his hand finding her hip and tugging her closer while his gaze cautiously stayed on Katniss.

As the girl from District 12 released her bow, Finnick moved y/n back. He guided them both to the ground before the impact could knock them down. Finnick saw y/n’s worried stare and he stroked her cheek before he covered her with his body. “Stay down honey, we’re getting out of this together,” he murmured lovingly.

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[dailyadventureprompts]

Deity: Tergrid, God of Fright

"Terror is the natural state of a child, they know they are small, vunrable, glass fragile. It is only once we grow that we delude ourselves into thinking we are safe, that we are strong, that we have control over the world we live in. Show a grown man how little control he really has, and you will see the child he always was: pissreeking, repentant, and pleading for his mother. " - Gerheart, village executioner

A goddess for those who hold close to the light dreading the unknown or those who wander gleefully into the dark seeking it, Tergrid is a deity of imagined horrors and terrible omens.

Depicted as a young woman always bearing a lantern, myths speak of Tergrid's shadow as a monstrous, murderous thing with a will of its own. Unable to kill the goddess due to the light she carries, it vents it's directionless wrath on those who linger beyond the lantern's glow. This duality, as both as the victim of fear and the source of it defines the brightmaiden's worship; as she is both threat and saviour to those who draw her attention.

Adventure Hooks:

The party arrive at a country roadhouse at dusk, only to find the inhabitants have nailed shut every door and shutter as if preparing for a siege. They say some horrid murderous things are lurking just off the road, and as the light wanes they refuse to let the heroes inside. The roadhouse's residents are terrified and are willing to fight to keep the party out, half convinced the party are themselves the things they should be afraid of... which isn't to say there ISN'T anything else waiting for that door to open. After negoitating their way inside (or forcing the issue) the heroes discover the roadhouse residents were warned of the danger by a mysterious woman who passed through earlier, though none can remember exactly what she looked like.

A knight renowned for his fearless deeds wanders the street in a waking nightmare, seeing threats everywhere and lashing out at phantoms and passersby. Even after being subdued it’s clear he won’t awake, and many suspect interference from jealous rivals in the upcoming tourney. The knight’s meek squire asks the party to help investigate the causes and possible cures of her master’s madness, never suspecting that her suppressed resentment at his recklessness might’ve manifested as a curse.

In desperate need of answers, the party consults an oracle dedicated to Tergrid who has them undergo trials of fear and phantasm so that they might know the truth. Chiefest among these is battling in a dark cave full of shadow monsters, while flickering visions of the future are cast on the wall by the guttering lantern light. The longer they can endure, the more they will know, but that isn't likely to be long unless they fight harder than they ever have before.

Inspiration: Tergrid is a shameless lift from Magic the Gathering's Kaldheim setting, which I've never played but apparently keep returning to as a consistent well of inspiration.

Fear both as a mechanic and motif is something I think is underutilized in D&D which is odd considering it's a game about venturing out into the unknown to face potentially deadly challenges. Fear and risk are what our heroes must endure to experience the wonder and rewards on the other side of their journey. As such it makes sense for a goddess of fear to play a role in the thematic weave of the stories we end up telling.

Speaking in less lofty terms, I also think using the lantern as a symbol for being frightened fucks hard. It's a tiny, fragile, and temporary respite from an ocean of darkness and the threats it contains.

Worshippers: The lost and abandoned, Unseele Fey, Shadowcasters and other denizens of the shadowfell. There is also heavy overlap with the worship of the night goddess Nyx.

Signs: Nightmares, unnatural or living shadows,

Symbols: A Lantern, often surrounded by a circle of darkness.

Artsource

[miniwheat77]

Simon Says. (Ghost X Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, this is kinda short, Smut, Rough Sex, Oral Sex (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, Minors DNI -_-

Summary: After reader harasses Ghost enough, he decides to play you at your own game.

Since you joined the Task Force, everyone noticed how playful and fun you were. You reminded them a lot of Johnny. Some even referred to you as a younger- female version of Soap. The both of you got along real well. Poor Ghost was getting harassed in so many ways, and it had been ramped up.

Especially when you found out his real name was Simon. You tortured him nonstop. Anytime he led missions and gave any orders you’d always make jokes.

“Oh, Simon says we take the building on the left, let’s go.”

“You have to say Simon says first or we won’t go.”

“He’s Simon, anything he says goes.”

You always cracked little jokes like that. Usually you got an eye roll in return. You never really thought much would come of it. You thought if he didn’t like it, he’d pull you aside and complain, but that never happened. He took your harassment and gave you little in return. Until one night.

You made your way back to your room, skin warm and red from the shower you’d just had. You’d forgotten a towel which meant your hair was soaked and your clothes were damp. You were frustrated and all you needed to do was get back to your room. You flinched a little as you felt water dripping down your back from your soaked hair. You opened up your door, stepping inside and closing the door behind yourself before flicking the light on. You don’t notice him at first. Your bed was up against the wall in the center of the room, toward the foot of your bed was a desk with a small wooden chair a few feet away. You didn’t see him, but Simon was sitting there. You looked around for a towel to ring your hair out with, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally see him. “Jesus Ghost.” You rest your hand over your chest. “How long have you been sitting there?” He shrugs. Avoiding your question completely.

What you didn’t know, is that Ghost had overheard a few of the other girls on base talking about you, how you had a crush on him.

“You said since my names’ Simon, anything I say goes right?” He asks. “Uh..” you creep toward the foot of your bed, sitting on the edge of it. A few feet away from him. “I.. I guess so? It’s just a joke.” You say nervously. He’s leaning back, leg propped up over the other as he plays with his gloves. His eyes are watching them, only looking up at you when he starts again. “Let’s play Simon says than, shall we?” You look at him confused as he slides his foot off of the other, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair completely. “I.. I don’t think I understand-“ you go to stand up.

“Sit down.”

You obey him, keeping sat down.

“Good girl.” He smiles. “Learning quickly yeah?” He nods.

“Take your shirt off.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Simon says, sweet girl. Take it off.”

“Are you serious?”

A deep chuckle leaves his lips. “Deadly.”

You swallow hard. Reaching down for the hem of your damp shirt, pulling it up and over your head. He takes a deep breath, the sound of his breaths getting more and more ragged. “Now take your shorts off.”

You hesitate for a second, his eyes burning into yours. You like Simon sure, but never thought anything like this would ever happen, you had to be dreaming right? You slip them down your thighs. You had no undergarments on, you had literally just left the shower. You now sat completely naked in front of him. “Ring your hair out.” He starts to tap his foot. You grasp your hair together in one hand, squeezing it, moving your enclosed fingers down. Drips of water coating your shoulders and chest. A growl leaves his lips as he watches the water spill down your body. Shivers going up your spine and your nipples harden from the chills arising on your skin. “Stand up.” You obey him. Standing up. “Cmere.” His voice is so deep, so sexy. You take in a jagged breath, taking slow steps toward him. You stop right in front of him, and he reaches forward, pulling you closer into him by the back of your thigh. He leans forward. Taking a deep breath in.

He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust. “Get on your knees.” He breathes.

You drop to your knees quickly. He leans back in the chair, watching you for a second. His gloved hand glides across your shoulder, over your collar bone and up your throat, lifting your chin to look up at him. His voice is low and deep when he speaks again, almost a whisper. “You’re going to be a good girl for me, yeah?” He breathes. You nod your head. “Yes sir.”

His cock jumps in his cargo pants at the nickname you’ve given him. He’s heard it before, but obviously not like this. He reaches down, unbuckling his belt. He’s moving slow, admiring the way that you watch him so intently. Simon would stop if you were uncomfortable, but the way you’re looking at him. He can tell he has nothing to worry about. You scoot closer as Simon slides his thick cock through the zipper of his pants, “Suck my cock.” He breathes. You raise yourself up slightly, hands resting on his thick thighs as you grasp the base of his cock, he watches you intently, the way you lick a stripe up the base, swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock. “Oh fuck..” he breathes, sliding down further in the chair. You take him further down, hallowing your cheeks and started to suck harder, his eyes widening. You’re bobbing your head up and down with your movements, hand pumping the parts of his fat cock that you can’t fit in your mouth. The way your hair moves. Lips swelling with the friction, the absolutely filthy and lewd sounds coming from your lips. It’s thrown him for a curveball, Simon hasn’t been with a woman in years. He’s realizing it now. He slides his glove off, reaching down and gathering a handful of your hair up, guiding you down his cock.

He tilts his head back and you take the advantage, looking up at him. His mask raises just a little bit and when he swallows you can see his adams apple bobbing. He’s panting hard, clutching your hair tightly, earning a whimper from your lips. The vibrations from your mouth has him bucking his hips into you. “F-fuck- so good-“ he gasps, his thighs starting to shake a little under your grasp. He releases his grasp on your damp hair, clutching the chair tightly. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and your eyes start to water. He looks back down at you, finally staring right directly into your eyes. You’re looking up at him through your eyelashes and Simon has to fight off the urge to bust right there. “Stop.” He pushes you back. He stands up, helping you up from the floor. He lifts you up, laying you back on your bed and moving himself above you. He’s staring down at you, and your eyes widen slightly as he grasps the bottom of his mask, pulling it up and over his face. Revealing himself to you. You were looking at Simon, all of him. “You okay?” He asks, looking down at you. You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip, heart racing in your chest. You nod your head. Your nerves are shot and he can tell. “Have you done this before?” He asks. You nod your head. “You seem nervous.” He chuckles. “It’s been a while-“ you take in a shaky breath. “Just try to relax for me. M’not gonna hurt ya.” He breathes. He tugs his sweater over his head, his shirt following with it. He unbuttons his pants, they’re sitting low on his waist already. You glance down, following the v on his fit body down to his fat cock, something you’re not used to. He moves himself lower on the bed, moving himself between your legs. He pushes your legs apart further, grasping you by your thighs and pulling you down until you’re laying on your back. You’re stiff and he can read you easily. He knows you’ll get used to him though. He’s not worried.

He takes hold of your thighs so that you can’t squirm away from him. He can tell you’ve probably never been gone down on, and if you had it wasn’t any good. He knows once he starts you’ll get sensitive and try to move away. His grip on your thighs will prevent it. He looks you dead in the eyes as he glides his tongue over your clit for the first time, you visibly melt into him, tilting your head back with a gasp and reaching to clutch at the sheets. His tongue glides between your folds and you fall apart right there. Tongue moving through your folds like a warm knife gliding through butter. You clamp your hand down over your mouth and Simon knows, it’s a shame he won’t get to hear your cries. But that’s something for another time. He glides his tongue over your clit, lapping at it and sucking it between his lips until you’re swollen and sensitive. Squirming as you’re right on the edge. You’ve never cum like this and as desperate as you are, you don’t know if you can stay quiet. He pulls away and your body relaxes. “Hands and knees sweetheart.” He mumbles. You obey him immediately, which is good.

Because this is still Simon says.

He moves himself up slightly, gliding his hand over your back, pushing down on your middle so that you arch your back for him. Feeling his hands glide down your hips until they’re resting right on your ass, spreading them so that he can get a good look at you. He lowers himself and once you feel his tongue at your hole, you jump forward. The sensation is completely unfamiliar and he tries to hold you still, you’re realizing pretty quickly that Simon has no limit. He’s doing this casually. You’re clutching at the sheets tightly, burying your face into them which was the goal. To muffle your moans. He rubs circles over your clit as he swirls his tongue over your ass, sliding a couple fingers into your pussy. You realize quickly you’ve never been so stimulated. Your orgasm is approaching pathetically fast as he works you up to it, fingers brushing over your walls, moving through you perfectly, tongue lapping at your hole. You cry into the sheets, thighs shaking violently as you reach your first orgasm. He works you through it until you’re overstimulated and shying away from his touch. He pulls away from you, wiping his saliva from around his mouth. He moves up, and you feel his cock prodding at your entrance. You’re nervous for how thick he is, but your haze from your first orgasm keeps the nerves at bay for now.

You feel the tip of his cock pushing past your folds, and his eyes widen as you swallow him up, feeling tight just around the tip. You can feel every inch of his cock as he sinks himself into your hole, a slight burn from him stretching your walls further than they ever have before. You’re biting the sheets to stay quiet and he’s smirking down at you. When his hips are flush with yours and he can hear you sobbing from the shear size of him stretching you open. Splitting you open on his cock, he leans over you. Mouth right next to your ear. His voice is low, deep and scratchy. “I want you to remember this. The way you feel on my cock whenever you want to make your little jokes about Simon says.” He breathes, drawing his hips back and thrusting back into you hard. You cry into the sheets and he chuckles again. “Simon says take his cock like a good fucking slut.” His deep laugh is taunting as he starts in. He’s rough, showing you no mercy as he fucks his cock into you as deep as it’ll fit. You’re crying into the sheets, overstimulated and overwhelmed. You can barely take the brooding man, how on earth he’s going so deep is beyond you. He grasps a handful of your hair, pulling you back into him until your back is flush with his chest. Your skin is cold from your damp hair. A different contrast to his heated and sweaty chest. He rests his hand around your throat, tilting your head back to kiss him.

“Such a good fucking girl for me, keeping up.” He groans. He’s got a death grip on your hips, there will for sure be fingertip sized bruises there the next day. You can’t even form coherent thoughts as he pounds himself into you, and it’s even worse when he lowers a hand to rub at your sensitive nub. Your eyes roll back, screwing shut. You can feel another orgasm building, his cock brushing right up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “I heard your little friends talking about how you had a crush on me.” He pants. His own high is approaching quickly. Your cheeks are turning red. “Guess it worked out huh?” He smirks. He’s trying to distract himself, he doesn’t want to cum first. “Simon-“ you mewl. “Rub your clit.” He breathes. You listen to him again, rubbing quick circles over it. He grasps your hips, taking skilled and quick thrusts into you. Keeping the same pace. You moan into the pillow as you reach another high and he fucks you right through it. This one is more intense than the last, your vision going white. Simon groans out as he reaches his own high. Cock twitching hard with each spurt of his cum that he releases deep inside of you, not even bothering with the consequences. He lowers himself into you, resting his forehead against the middle of your back. He’s panting hard, worn out and completely fucked out.

“You did so good for me.” he breathes. You can’t help as your cheeks turn red. A gasp leaves your lips when he slides out of you. He groans out, seeing his filth spill back out of your hole could easily get him hard again. He helps you off of the bed, helping you clean up and get redressed. Once you finish, he’s waiting patiently in the chair at your desk for you. “Come here.” He breathes. You walk toward him, and he pulls you into him, looking up at you again. “You’re a good girl you know that?” He breathes, earning a smile from you. “Hey, Simon says right?” You smile, leaning down to kiss him.

“Yeah. Simon says.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I reread your tanjiro reader post and always wondered what would happen if it’s a Muichiro reader?

How would the Vise and dorm leader react if reader was known as a Young prodigy in Swordsmanship and is very rich?

Since Reader is has amnesia, she would always forget that she’s in another world but was always reminded by her loyal crow

Both the Dorm leaders and Vice Dorm leaders are a bit much

🖤🖤🖤

Muichiro Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re doe-eyed, airheaded, painfully blunt, and a true sword prodigy. Always forgetting and wistfully floating by in life only really reacting to your memory’s deepest secrets. The only thing that keeps you grounded is the loyal crow that gives your missions. While you are as determined as you could be to return to your world the boys of Twisted Wonderland feel the exact opposite. You don’t have much of a will which makes it easier to instill their own: 

Trey Clover

“(Y/n)?!”

“...”

“(Y/n)?!”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you been like that?! All the blood’s going to rush to your head!”

His obsession festers from his worry

Taking that big brother role and watching out for your wandering self

But then he realizes its more when you in a rare moment of clarity speak your truth

Lighting the fire inside him 

And he can’t help but want to protect you

Even when he watches you slice at an entirely insane speeds 

He still feels the need to safeguard you

Even if it means keeping you in the dark about everything

Rook Hunt

“Mon amour brumeux! Please show me the prowess of your sword!”

“...”

“Oui, your beauty is shining even when you dream!”

You’re so lovely for him 

Not reacting to his open photography 

You don’t even protest when he swabs the insides of your cheeks

He’s brought to shivers at the thought of your immense power with a docile personality

In fact he’s never seen someone so skillfully dodge and reflect arrows without being angry

You’re just so perfect for him 

He’s determined to have you 

And he wonders will you fight when he takes you or just let him

Ruggie Bucci

“You’re so gullible! You’ve got to fight me if I take your food! Come on showing me your game face!” 

“You want me…to fight you?”

Shink

“Whoa whoa (Y/n) hold on!” 

He thinks your airy attitude is a breath of fresh air

But he realizes how easy it is to string you along

And he feels no one is better to do that then him 

Well guess he’s getting a lot more practice with ‘laugh with me’

Specifically in accidental injuries

Lilia Vanrouge

“Whoa (Y/n) you’re so skilled! Would you be willing to maybe spar with me?”

“No, I’m looking at the clouds.”

“Awww come on baby! Pleeeeaaasseee?”

He loves pestering you 

Because you don’t really react so it ends up bothering him instead

Ultimately he finds himself obsessed with knowing your inner workings

And when you say something insightful he feels his heart speed up and his cheeks flush with a feeling he hasn’t felt in ages

Won’t you give this dying fae his final wish and stay with him forever

Or maybe he’ll come with you–the greatest mystery he’s ever come across

Jamil Viper

“I sometimes think I could hypnotize you to do what I want…but you’re so flighty I doubt it would even work.”

“...Your hair looks like Kabumaru…”

“What?”

He thinks you’re the cutest 

Even when you expertly wield a sword

He wonders how knowledgeable you can be if he eliminated your chances to go home

If you stayed they’d be the perfect duo 

He’ll be your brains if your his muscle

Heck you can even leave the killing to him

Jade Leech

“Ah, I see you’re busy staring at the Monstro Lounge’s tank.”

“...”

“You seem to like fish.”

“...No, no I don't think I do.”

“Hmmm, how would you like to be one?”

Floyd’s nickname of JellyFish is accurate to him 

Especially when you show off your sword skills 

An almost mindless creature that has a sting

But he thinks you’re allure is like a mushroom

Possibly deadly but wonderfully gorgeous

Perfect for a terrarium tank of your own