#i have glomped before and i will glomp again

[acey-wacey]

Jealous of Their Tsum

Feat. Deuce, Azul, Jade

A/n: In honor of tsumderland 2!!! (though it took me the entire event to write it). Kalim, Rook and Lilia in the future if there is demand

♠️ Deuce Space ♠️

He gets along with his tsum though it's quite the troublemaker sometimes.

It doesn't have the same honor student drive that he does.

Though sometimes it gets into mischief, it's lack of proper inhibitions also make it bolder when it comes to you.

Deuce has had a crush on you for the longest time and never said a word because he was too scared.

His tsum however is not at all scared and has no problem launching into your arms.

You were initially startled by the little plushie that threw itself at you but once you realized it was Deuce's tsum, you giggled and let it bounce up to your shoulders.

It nuzzled the side of your face and you patted it's head affectionately.

Deuce --who had been running after the tsum to keep it from causing too much mayhem -- stopped short when he saw you cuddling with the little creature that looked so much like him.

"You're just a little sweetheart, aren't you?" You cooed at the tsum, squeezing it in your arms and holding it close to your chest.

Deuce couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the affection you showed the tsum.

Why didn't you ever hug him like that? What did Deuce-tsum do to deserve your cuddles?

"You are just so cute," you said as you pinched the tsum's little cheeks. The plushy bounced with happiness. "Almost as cute as the real Deuce!"

Deuce's eyes widened when he heard you.

You thought he was... cute? Cuter than the tsum even?

His jealousy was replaced with swelling pride.

He smiled to himself, knowing you weren't aware of his presence.

Maybe his dreams of confessing weren't so hopeless after all.

...

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

His tsum had mostly been helping out at the Mostro Lounge, being cute and attracting customers.

Azul knew how good the adorable little plush was for business but he never expected to see you drawn to the crowds.

"What brings you to the Lounge on this fine day, dearest prefect?" Azul asked you with his signature charming smile.

"Everyone's been talking about the tsum that's working. He's just so cute!" you responded enthusiastically, looking to where Azul-tsum was filling up a customer's water glass.

Azul's perfect smile faltered for just a second, not long enough for you to notice.

"So even you can be tempted by our most adorable new staff member?"

"Seems so," you shrugged with a smile.

"I'll ensure it is sent to your table then," Azul smiled before turning away.

He secretly scowled at the tsum before walking back to his post.

He didn't hear you mutter "I can think of a more adorable staff member" before he left.

A few minutes later, there was a bit of a commotion in the dining area.

"What's going on?" Azul asked Jade when he saw the franticness buzzing around your table.

"It appears the tsum has attacked a patron," Jade said, though his smile was much too sly for that kind of news.

Azul was much too startled to notice the eel's ulterior motives.

He pushed his way through the crowd to find your table.

"I am terribly sorry about any violent behavior by our resident tsum. If anyone has been attacked in any way, I assure you, you will be reimbursed..."

You interrupted Azul before he could finish.

"Nonsense! I wasn't attacked so much as glomped by this little cutie!"

Azul couldn't tell if he was more startled by the attack accusations or the fact that his tsum was nuzzling itself into your chest. And you were cuddling it back?

Azul found himself becoming increasingly worried that his tsum shared the same feelings he had for you.

What if you discovered that he liked you because of his tsum? You would probably hate him and then he'd never see you again and all because of that stupid ball of stuffing!

First it was going to steal his job, then his crush. Sooner or later, Jade and Floyd would completely replace him with the thing!

Azul collected himself enough to take a deep breath and offer you a hand.

"My deepest apologies for this unprofessionalism. May I offer you a VIP seat while I get everything sorted with our clingy little waiter?"

You smiled and took Azul's hand holding the tsum against your shoulder with the other.

"I'm really not bothered but I'll never say no to a better seat."

While Azul walked you to your new booth, he put on a customer service smile just for you.

"Say, Y/N, you seem to enjoy cuddling with the little tsum quite a bit."

"Can't deny that," you chuckled and squeezed the puffball tighter. It wiggles its stubby arms with joy. "I've grown fond of the little fellow."

Azul's eyes narrowed slyly.

"I have a proposition for you, Y/N. You may cuddle my tsum as much as you like, with a few conditions of course."

"Of course," you repeated with a roll of your eyes.

"I don't even ask much of you," Azul continued as he summoned a contract with his magic. "Just sign on the dotted line and the tsum is practically yours."

You narrowed your eyes at the fine print before chuckling.

"For every cuddle Azul-tsum receives, twice as many must be returned to the original Azul," you read aloud with a smirk on your face.

"A tempting offer, is it not, prefect?"

You smiled and set the tsum down on a nearby table much to its dismay.

Before Azul could react, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Very tempting indeed."

🍄 Jade Leech 🍄

You were walking peacefully back to Ramshackle from your afternoon classes when you tripped over something soft in the road.

You spit the dirt out of your mouth and looked up to see a mini Jade hopping around on the road.

You sighed and stood up, dusting off your uniform.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you, you little schemer?"

The tsum stopped its gleeful hopping to wink at you.

You laughed and squatted down to be roughly eye level with the plush.

"Well don't think you can indebt me to you. I'm a lot bigger than you after all," you said before realizing the irony. "Huh, that's funny, it's usually the other way around with Jade."

You continued on your way home but noticed the tsum still bouncing after you.

"What? Did Jade send you to collect a payment?"

The tsum shook its head, or at least it would have if it had a head. More like it just shook its whole body.

"Do you need something?"

Another shake.

"Are you gonna follow me all the way home?"

An enthusiastic nod.

"Just like the normal Jade. Can never take no for an answer."

You sighed and held out your hands to the tsum.

"Come on, let's get going. I can't have you tracking dirty stub prints all over my shiny nice desecrated wood floors."

The Jade-tsum hopped eagerly into your hands.

Before too long, it started to rain.

You groaned and looked at the little tsum in your hands.

"Guess we gotta make a run for it, eh, Jade-tsum?"

The tsum bounced in excitement.

You held it close to your chest and made a break down the dirt road to your dorm.

By the time you made it back, the tsum was stuck to you like glue.

"Come on, little Jade, I'm all wet and muddy, I need to take a shower!"

The tsum stayed stuck to your shirt no matter how much you tugged at it.

"Guess this is my life now."

After your fourth lap around the dorm, trying to dry off with a plushie attached to you, you got a phone call from the Jade's cell.

"Y/N," you answered tiredly.

"How fortuitous I was able to reach you, prefect," you heard Jade's easily distinguishable voice from the other line. "Would you have happened to see my little lookalike anywhere? I'm afraid it's gotten away from me and it's much too difficult to search in the rain."

"Yeah, actually. It's kind of attached to me."

"Attached, you say?" Jade's voice perked up with interest. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean literally attached. It latched onto me like Velcro and I can't get it off for the life of me which is quite inconvenient."

You heard Jade chuckle.

"That does sound quite characteristic for a version of me," he mused, making you wonder what the implications of that statement were. "I shall be right over to remove it."

About 20 seconds after he hung up, you heard a knock on your door.

"That was quick," you said as you got up to open the door.

Jade was standing in your doorway, soaking wet with a sneaky smile on his lips.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"Oh, I was already on the way."

You laughed as you stepped aside to let Jade in the door. As per his usual polite self, he took off his muddy shoes before following you to the dying room (it's in such poor shape you don't bother calling it a living room).

"Why'd you call ahead if you were already coming?"

"It is polite to give warning of one's arrival, is it not?" Jade cocked his head in fake innocence. "I would never wish to be unexpected."

"Jade Leech, you are always unexpected."

He smiled at you rebuff.

"I shall take that as a compliment," he cleared his throat and turned to you. "Now for the matter of our other unexpected guest."

Jade looked at his tsum double who was still firmly snuggled into your chest.

He bent down to look the tsum in the eye and you didn't quite hear what he said to it but from the way it released it's hold on you and scampered off to the couch, you assumed it was a threat.

"Thanks, Jade," you said exasperatedly though you knew there was going to be a catch later.

"I accept your thanks, prefect, but your payment would be much more appreciated."

You sighed and grabbed your wallet from your pocket.

"If you're going to make me work shifts at the Mostro, I would much rather pay you in cold hard madol."

Jade pushed your hands down and looked at you with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm afraid your little leech has not been removed, prefect, only replaced with a larger one."

You backed up as Jade approached you with a sharp toothy grin. Eventually, he backed you up against the couch and you fell over backwards.

"Poor helpless prefect," Jade tutted, looming over you, his dark silhouette outline by the flickering light of your ancient chandelier. "Who would be able to help you if a slimy eel decided to... latch on?"

Your breath caught in your throat as the wind was knocked out of you by a crushing weight on your body.

You waited for Jade to keep squeezing the life out of you but for some reason it never came.

Instead you felt the nuzzle of a much larger head into your neck.

Once you recovered from the shock, you smiled and began stroking Jade's hair.

He growled under your touch.

"Mine."

...

☕Buy Me A Ko-Fi! ☕

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader

[selineram3421]

Well I just read you newest story about y/n being Husker's younger sibling. Especially how much focus there was on Al just wanting to piss him off.

So if I might suggest: Alastor with a y/n who's Charlie's sibling/Lucifer's child. Seriously we saw him already losing it when all claimed to see a daughter figure in Charlie...Al flirting, etc. with a different child might actually kill him.

Anyway I love your work, keep it up ^-^

- 🖤

*cackles like an insane person*

Royally Pissed

Prologue

Alastor X Morningstar Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ reader is blonde for obvious reasons, cussing, mention of depression, angry short King ⚠

Lucifer treasured his children.

Of course he messed up at times, not every parent is perfect. Though he does regret not seeing his children all that often.

Charlie was doing something. Somewhere.

Shit, that sounds bad.

And you would come by and check up on him every so often.

While Charlie looked like him, she had her mother's height. You looked more like Litlith..but had his shortness.

Of course you were adorable!

His littlest one, born a few seconds after Charlie. Twins that came out like opposites in looks but similar in some ways.

He gifted you a rubber duck for every birthday. One that had a tutu, one that had multiple eyes, one that had a built in music box, one that had a jester hat, one that honked like a goose, one that-

Ok, it was a lot.

But you loved his duckies! You even had bookshelves just for them!

Currently you were with him in the castle. Or more like you being in the other room while he was working on another duck.

Then he got a phone call from Charlie.

"Daughter. Daughter calling!", he said in surprise.

After talking about Heaven and a bit about the hotel, he got excited when she said for him to come see the hotel for himself.

"My daughter wants to see me~!", he sang before pointing at a duck on the floor. "Take that depression!"

"Dad?", he heard you call out, finding you opening the door. "Do you want lunch now?", you asked.

Lucifer cheered out your name and grabbed your hands before twirling you around. "Charlie called! She invited me to her hotel thingy!"

"Oh, that's nice.", you said. "I hope you have fun."

"You can come too!", he stopped the twirling. "We'll all get to hang out again!"

You smiled and agreed.

"Great! We've got to be there in an hour!", he says before letting you go to skip out of the room.

Staying put, you glance at the rubber duck filled room with slight worry.

"It wasn't this bad last time.."

.

You stood behind your father as you both waited for the doors to open.

It's been a while since you last saw Charlie, it being around a few months. Looking around you can see she cleaned up the building quite well. It was more broken down when it first appeared on the news when she pitched her idea.

I'm glad she's doing well. You thought before hearing the door.

"Charlie!", your dad said with a wide smile, holding his arms open.

"Hey Dad.", your sister waved before getting glomped with a tight hug. "Uh..it's uh, good to see you too Dad.", she said before having to push him off to breathe.

Then she noticed you, saying your name in excitement.

"I would have done more if I knew you were coming to visit too!", she said and brought you into the hotel by your hand.

"No, you don't have to worry. I'm sure what you have is enough.", you reassured as you followed her in.

From the corner of your eye, you saw two demons right next to the door. On your right there was someone in red and turned your head to see a tall deer demon. Looking to your left, you saw a woman with long white hair and an X over her eye.

"Hello..", you waved with a shy smile.

.

Alastor glared down at the King as soon as the short man barged into the hotel.

How could that be more powerful than me? He thought as his eye twitched.

Then Charlie pushed her father off and excitedly greeted someone outside, grabbing their hand to bring them in.

His eyes widened at the smaller version of Lilith.

"Hello..", they waved shyly at everyone in the room.

And then the little cat that the Princess had walked over to greet the two.

"Kiki!", the two blondes kneeled down to pet the one-eyed feline.

After walking around, Lucifer commented on the bar, so Alastor teleported closer before speaking up.

"Just some of the renovations we had done!", he pointed at the bar with his microphone staff. "Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?", he said before facing the King.

He teleported even closer to the Kind and introduced himself after the monarch questioned who he was, shaking the apple cane instead of the King's hand.

As soon as the deer demon let go, he wiped his hand on his coat.

"You are much shorter in real life.", he said pinching his fingers a bit, emphasizing how small the blonde man was.

"Who is this? Who is this?", Lucifer asked and turned to his daughter once seeing her walk over. "Is this the bellhop?", he asked her.

"Aha! No!", Alastor said before fixing his bow. "I am the host of the hotel! You might of heard of me from my radio broadcasts."

"Hm. Nope!", the King pretended to think before dusting off his sleeve. "Maybe it's why Charlie calls it the HAZBIN hotel! Ah ha ha!", he nudges his daughter with his elbow.

"Ha ha ha!", the deer tilts his head at every short laugh that left his mouth before looking at his claws with a knowing smile. "It was actually my idea."

"Ah haha! Well it's not very clever!", the blonde replied leaning forward a bit.

"Ah ha!", the Radio demon laughed loudly before leaning down to meet the King's gaze. "Fuck you.", he said very clearly, static only in the background.

"OK!", Charlie pushed the two away. "Ok! Anyway!", she said as the two looked away from each other. "Dad!", she turned to her father.

While the two were occupied, he saw the small Lilith looking Morningstar talking with the others, wearing a bright smile as they laughed.

He focused back on the conversation when the Princess said his name.

"We wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much.", she said and the two blondes turned to face him.

"Charlie has a very unique vision!", he said with his usual smile as he walked over. "I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests!", he places a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Thank you Alastor.", the blonde smiled, feeling happy.

He noticed the way Lucifer hated it, and calmly smiled.

"Quite an impressive young lady.", he said and tilted the Princess's head up a bit with his hand before moving his claws back to himself. "We're all very proud of her.", he says and places an arm around her shoulder, pushing her a little close.

Having enough, the King cleared his throat.

"Charlie! Dear.", he said before pushing between the two, getting them separated. "Why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends!", he pointed towards the group with his end of his staff.

"Oh! Yes, of course!", Charlie said and began introducing Vaggie to her father.

Then someone got his attention with a tap on his arm.

Snapping his head towards the person, he saw the Lilith look alike move their hand back.

"Oh, I apologize. I called out to you but got no response.", they said with a bit of a frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Upset?", he questioned, still wearing his smile.

"Yes, you furrowed your brows a bit when I tapped you.", the small blonde gestured with their finger.

How observant..

"No, I am not upset at all!", he gave a quick closed eyed smile. "And your name is..?"

"Oh, I'm-"

And then they were interrupted when the chandelier fell.

This was supposed to be a oneshot but then I remembered how detailed this would have to be.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #x reader #the radio demon #gn reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #reader looks like Lilith #Morningstar Reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlotte morningstar #chaggie #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #hehe short reader #we gotta #to keep it balanced

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & THEM CONFESSING TO YOU .

characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe alhaitham kaveh x reader genre. romantic fluff and angst! an. from @/eloquentmoon's romantic confession prompts list! | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

"for years i have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence." he says, clutching a twine-wrapped bouquet of qingxins between his fist. his grip is so tight, it leaves an indent on the stems for you. you bring him into your arms, head resting on his shoulder as you take his hand in yours.

"as have i."

zhongli

"you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply." the man who stands before you, once a god, now looks so small in stature that it looks as if he's curling into himself. preparing for rejection, for hurt, for heartbreak. morax stands in front of you, with the weakness of a mortal.

"i have cared for you all this time, zhongli."

kaeya

"you deserve to know." kaeya sits next to you, his arm around your frame as the two of you sit in silence for a while – the silence is newly broken.

"know what, kaeya?"

"it's you. it's always been you." he stares off into blank space for a while. "the one whom i've always cared for."

diluc

"are you really so oblivious?" he chuckles, hands behind his back, feet shifting nervously. the renowned king of mondstadt, was now toeing the ground. "there isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you."

"and what if i were the same?" you reply, taking his hand in yours. "call me, and i would worship the ground that your feet walk upon."

childe

in the room stands childe, with his baggage, freshly off a snezhnayan ship. as if your body was on autopilot, you run straight into his arms, glomping him.

"i cannot bear to be apart from you anymore." he holds you tightly in his arms, his scent of musk wood engulfing your senses as he wraps himself around you.

"i've loved you since the moment i first laid my eyes on you."

alhaitham

"is it so obvious how infatuated i am?" he scoffs, looking away. there's a hint of a blush of redness you see on his cheeks, but the pigment quickly recedes.

"no. should i be surprised? or should i tell you that i've known all this time, and that i feel the same way?"

the redness returns.

kaveh

"i'm falling for you."

he blurts out, redness covering his cheeks as he hides his face in the safety of his hands. kaveh lets out a soft sigh, peeking out from behind his fingers – not too much to cause another wave of embarrassment, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

"then we've fallen together, it seems." he hides his face once again; but this time, in your shoulder.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiy @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @lemonswriting @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @niiheng @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @ineshapanda @babypetuniaa (send ask to be added to taglist)

#astronetwrk #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #xiao fluff #zhongli fluff #kaeya fluff #diluc fluff #childe fluff #alhaitham fluff #kaveh fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #[📝 stewardess' notepad!]

[mobbu-min]

☆ Pretty Boy ☆

summary: in which, you're asked who you thought was the prettiest boy and not even a second later you respond with his name. unknowingly leaving him a flustered mess.

a/n: long time no see guys! but here's a little thing I worked on. school literally been beating my ass fr

characters: every housewarden

!tw! insecurities, grammar mistakes im too lazy to fix

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ Riddle's face erupts in a spectrum of red. He’s far too shocked to do anything other than stare agape at the wall.

⋆ Prettiest boy? Him?

⋆ Surely you must be joking. But, you sounded so convinced. You said so fast and bluntly, that surely it's not a joke. That you mean it, right? Right?

⋆ Either way, this boy does not know how to act. He’s going through all stages of denial and acceptance. He’s planning and unplanning how this could turn out for the both of you. He’s anxiously biting at his lip, picking at the loose threads of his blazer. Trying desperately hard to get back on track. Silently cursing(not really) you out for getting him off his game.

⋆ A part of him, a side he keeps hidden, deeply wishes that you meant it with all your heart. Because, he thinks you're very pretty too.

“Prefect, perhaps if you are not busy this coming weekend, you and I could get together.- What will we do? Well I planned a little stroll through the gardens, just you and I of course, and then after, we’ll get dinner- excuse me?…A-a date?! Am I asking you out on a date!?……..Well, if you’d be up to it, then yes. Yes I am.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ Leona knows he’s good looking. Annoyingly so.

⋆ But to hear you say he was the prettiest boy in all of NCR? Oh boy, his ego is twice its original size. (ha! take that vil!)

⋆ And no, he’s not smiling like a lovesick school girl because of you. Hell to the no. He just saw Malleus fall on his face, actually….SToP LoOKiNG At HiM!

⋆ Does he take your response as truth? Yes. Is he going to bring it up to you and embarrass you just for kicks and giggles? Absolutely, yes. Will he ever confess? ……probably, but first, call him pretty again.

“Pretty? Hmm, I’d prefer attractive, or down right smokin hot. But y’know, I don’t mind pretty if it’s coming from you. Hmmm? Don’t tell me my little herbivore is shy now? C’mon move those hands and let me see your pretty face.”

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ This has to be one of Jade and Floyd’s pranks, right?

⋆ It was in fact not a prank, judging by the two background characters he’s never seen before.

⋆ Okay, it is confirmed that it is indeed not a prank. What now? Well obvi, stage two, embarrassment and quickly approaching stage three, denial!

⋆ Skipping those two stages, because for goodness sake Azul! Get a hang of yourself, man!

⋆ He quickly tries to think of a plan, a contract perhaps. Wait no, last time he tried that, you threatened to hide his cane and glasses. There has to be another way to…to…to….well, he’ll think of that later.

⋆ For right now, Azul is practically glowing in his seat.

“I couldn’t help but overhear, but tonight Monstro Lounge is having an event. Of course, you’re not forced to come, but I’d like to show a better side of me-I mean, my business! If you’ll allow it, that is.”

Kalim Al-Asim <3

⋆ Pretty! You just called him the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen! 

⋆ Kalim is over the moon, Jamil has to go and get him down, and practically bursting at the seams. It takes him everything not to glomp you into a bone crushing hug right then and there.

⋆ But he wants to be slow with how he approaches you. Wants to take his time and plan a nice quiet-Yeah like that actually going to happen! Kalim throws a large ass party, nobody knows what it's for besides Jamil, and of course you're the guest-of-honor!

⋆ All of your favorites are there! Everything you could ever hope for lovingly set out and planned for you. 

⋆ Kalim hopes this will express his feelings for you and show how happy your comment made him. If not, expect to be dragged in the middle of the party off to a magic carpet ride through the night sky.

⋆ You may be marveling at the pretty sky and stars, but Kalim’s eyes will never leave your pretty face.

“Wasn’t that fun! Let’s do it again! -What? You’re tired? Well that’s no good! Come on, let's have a sleepover. I promise you’ll have the best sleep of your life!- But first, mwah! A pre-good night kiss! Don’t worry there's plenty of more where that came from!”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ Smug, if there was one word to describe Vil, it would be smug. 

⋆ Of course, you’d answer with his name! He is the fairest of them all! You were state fact! Nothing but the truth!

⋆ So, why does his knees feel so weak? Why does his face feel warm? And most importantly, why does his heart feel like he just ran a marathon? 

⋆ Well never mind that, Vil will not let your little praise get to his head and mess up his whole routine. And yet, as he readies himself for bed, Vil can’t help but linger on your words. Linger on the way your eyes softened and head shyly turned to hide in your shoulder. 

⋆ And then those feelings return and Vil can’t do anything to stop them. Like acne it infests his heart and turns it to a bloody red. However, unlike acne, Vil doesn’t want to get rid of it..

"My sweet potato, if you ever feel down, feel free to come to me for assistance. I would love to show you some latest skin and hair products for you to try. And I would be more than happy to demonstrate it for you. Hmm? Ace said that your skin has been looking like Riddle’s face? How rude of that unripe spudling, like he looks any better! Ahem, I mean, perhaps you’d like to take up the offer now then? I’ll be making smoothies.”

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ …pretty….you just called him pretty….system overloading…system crashed…pew…pew…pew…pew…sjdpsjsjlaoap

⋆ There's not a single response from Idia for like five minutes. People think he's a literal statue, birds even start building nests on him for crying out loud! It's that bad.

⋆ But once he gets his system loading properly, oh boy, he let's out the loudest, most high pitched, scream, you think he's getting murder(or seeing someone in the first time in months) He's a whole ass volcano fr.

⋆ He doesn't get it. He really really doesn't and now he thinks you're weird, like really fuckin weird. 

⋆ Because he's not pretty. Vils pretty, Mega super dragon boss is pretty, that blue hair normie you hang out with, he's pretty, hell even you, yourself, is pretty! But Idia?

⋆ Yeah, he's scheduling you an eye appointment asap.

⋆ Idia doesn't get you and he never will, at least not yet. He doesn't get what you see in him, why you thought he was the prettiest boy you've ever seen, but for some reason that night, when Ortho was charging and it was just him alone, he could finally look at himself in the mirror and not be repulsed with who looked back at him.

⋆ For once, he finally saw himself as Idia, the prettiest boy in your eyes.

‘A-are you available tonight? Eh? W-w-why?!....oh, ummm, there’s a new game that's coming out and I…I wanted to know if you wanted to be my player 2!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ Hmm, how strange of you. You never cease to surprise him.

⋆ Malleus is used to being called a gallery of different names. He’s heard it all. Pretty being a rare one in the collection. He’s much more used to being called handsome, but pretty? Well, Malleus could get used to that. Especially if it's coming from you. 

⋆ Malleus is the one to confront you right after. Thank you for your kind words, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered and cheeks flushed, and promptly disappearing. He’s not sure what exactly to do with this...feeling. It's the first for him, so he finds himself thinking he might have gotten ill. Perhaps, your kindness is truly infectious, like Sebek says. 

⋆ However, do not fret! Papi Lilia is on his way to do whatever he does best!

⋆ Malleus is surprised, yet he isn’t in denial or flustered, he’s actually at ease. Relaxed really. Because he can finally put a name to this feeling that infects his heart every time you're around. He knows why his heart felt like it was on fire and why his knees felt weak. 

⋆ Because you have infected him, you've been cursed with a disease called love. A disease Malleus doesn’t mind living with as long as he stays the prettiest boy in your eyes. 

"You’re quite lovely yourself, my dear Child of Man. Stunning really. You put the stars to shame, the wonders of the Universe to shame, the most stunning jewels are nothing compared to the twinkling of your eyes. My dear, you say I’m pretty, however I believe you're down right gorgeous."

#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus headcanons #idia headcanons #vil headcanons #kalim headcanons #azul headcanons #leona headcanons #riddle headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons

[jester089]

Locked away

TADC crew x abstracted reader. But with a twist, you'll have to read to find out what the twist is. Or you can just go to the end I'll write it there for those who want context.

Caine

When you abstracted it was sad but Caine honestly wasn't surprised. You were showing signs for a while after all. He did his best to make fun adventures and distractions but in the end you were lost. He moved on rather quickly I'm sad to say. You aren't the first person he enjoyed the company of to lose their mind. He moved on like always, no real differences showing themselves. That is until the next person that abstracted. He opened up the cellar to get them out of the way only for a non abstracted you to crawl out. You were shivering and had a thousand yard stare. But you were alive! He quickly swoops down and starts making sure your ok. He asks so many questions only to not get any answers. Or even a reaction out of you. It took some time and the others mentioning things for him to realize that you weren't there anymore. You were physically, you were sitting right in front of him as he speaks. But you weren't there mentally, you were gone. With a heavy heart and regret he puts you back in the cellar. It feels wrong to do but he can't just keep your emotionless reactionless body up where everyone can see it. Chance of abstraction 0.5/10

Gangle

Don't do this to the poor sweetheart Watching your glitchy form get put into the cellar like all the others broke her. Just you abstracting was enough to completely change Gangle. She went from not doing ok. To severely depressed and on the verge of giving up. She would mope around and never really interact. Her comedy mask long forgoten and collecting dust in your old room, sitting on your old bed. She visits your room every now and again but can never get past looking at the door. To many memories, to much hurt. When she heard you were ok and not abstracted from Pomni and Ragatha she didn't believe it, she couldn't believe it. But after enough convincing she went to go see you. And they weren't lying. There you were. Sitting on the ground staring at nothing. Second she catches a glimpse of you she sprint and you full speed and glomps you. She wraps around you tight enough to suffocate you, and peppers your face with kisses. She doesn't notice through the tears of joy or lovely feeling of holding you again that you aren't reacting to anything. But once the high of seeing you again wears off she'll realize. Just give her some time to be happy. She just got you back and your already gone again. Caine said you were broken beyond his help. Watching you get forced into the cellar again broke Gangle. Don't worry about the cellar being lonely and cold anymore, she's going to be joining you soon. Chance of abstraction 10/10

Zooble

You were the only one in this colorful hell that she felt close too. That she trusted. And your gone, just like so many before you. But you aren't like all those others. You were special. You mattered to her. She rarely showed up to adventures and rarely talked before. Now you would be lucky to see her outside of her room. Or yours. You just made her feel so complete. Like she isn't a random mess of parts. When she hears that you back she doesn't believe it. She doesn't even go to check because she truly believes the others are just trying to get her out of her room. She doesn't know that you were actually back. But that also means she doesn't have to go through loosing you again. She finds out a week or two later and you did actually come back and feels horrible. You were there, and she didn't even show up. Chance of abstraction 7.5/10

Ragatha

I feel like despite her go lucky and up beat personality she's one of the if not the closest to abstraction. She just doesn't show it cause she is supposed to be the well held together one, the anchor for the others. You were her little ray of sunshine. And not that digital sun outside, just your presence made her feel like she wasn't trapped in a computer. But your not here anymore. You haven't been for a long time. But shhh don't tell her that. When you abstracted Ragatha fell into her delusions. She lives in her memories of the real world, and of you two. When your brought back she doesn't even really react cause in her mind you've been there the whole time. She knows that isn't true. But it's her last chance to not lose herself. She wants to stay strong for you, and for the others. But seeing you in front of her, but it not actually be you. Just a husk of what you once were. Seeing YOU. Actual you being shoved into the cellar breaks her. It can go one of two ways. Either she goes fully delusional, or she abstracts right then and there. Chance of abstraction 8.5/10

Jax

Now Jax is an interesting one as I can see it going one of three ways. 1. He gets 5x more bully like and starts acting like he actually wants the others dead and isn't just doing it cause he finds it funny. 2. Losing you completely changes him. After enough time he is actually able to get over you and improves as a person to honor you. 3. Acts like it doesn't even happen and is the same as before. But if anyone brings you up he either gets violent, depressed, or both. For the sake of this I'm going to go with two as it's the most f#*&$@% up. Jax missed you. He missed you a lot. But he's a tough rabbit and isn't just going to give up cause your gone. That's Gangle's job, The little push over. He mourns losing you for a while but is surprisingly able to get over it. Once he is ready to join the others again he acts differently. He doesn't bully or prank. And any jokes he says are incredibly light hearted. Like he's scared, of what? The others don't know. Ragatha appreciates the change but knows that it only happened because he's been put though a lot of pain. He starts helping on adventures and doing his best to cheer everyone up. But then he sees you again. Sees you in the flesh not in a dream, or a nightmare. He wants so badly to run up to you and give you a big ol hug and take you back to his room for cuddles. But he can see in your eyes and the way your breathing. While that is your body. That isn't you. As he watches Caine put you back in the cellar he starts glitching and holding on to his head like it'll split if he doesn't. But before anyone can comfort him or ask if he's ok he's back up and just as cheerful as ever. From that day on he didn't allow himself to feel anything. Good, bad, neutral. None of it. He loved you. And look where that got him. Chance of abstraction 3/10

Pomni

Yeah this'll end well. Totally. 100% So for Pomni it does kind of depend on how long she's been there. If she's still new it wont affect her as much as she didn't know you that well. If she's been there a while then she's going down with the ship. Her ship. You. Pomni was still pretty new to the circus and the digital world. But with you and Ragatha's constant reassurance and help she got used to it rather quickly. You and Pomni got close enough to start dating getting far enough into it to ask Caine for date nights Be warned, He can and will watch you two go out. But just as she was starting to feel comfortable with this place and happy to be with you, she lost you. She spends most of her time going over every single memory you two had together. And the more she nit picks the more she feels like it's her fault. You had been here so long, you had done so well. Then she showed up. And now your gone and trapped in a dank cellar. But she's still here. If it wasn't for Ragatha she would have joined you in that cellar really soon but she trudged on. She was there. When you got pulled out of that hole. She was there watching you shiver on the floor mumbling about something. She was there when you got put back in. That was it, the final nail in the coffin. Well at least she wont have to suffer so much every day. Chance of abstraction 9.5/10 (The base for this is "your another person trapped in the digital world. And you were dating the character. But then you abstracted. Some how while trapped in that cellar you un-abstracted but you couldn't get out. So being trapped in a pitch black, cold, and wet place broke you mind. Only for you to be pulled out by Caine and break your S/O's mind. At least you two can live in hell together.") (Hope you enjoyed. I wrote this while high off my ass on coffee and sugar. So that's why it's so long.)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #heavy angst #not beta'd #noob author

[siren-serenity]

my favorite shade of blue

characters: buggy the clown, gn!reader warnings: fluff, slight swearing a/n: - OMFG BUGGY??? BUGGY????? *sob, scream, drool* - babes let's admit it, buggy is so touch starved. he seems like the guy who would LOVE physical touch - feedback is appreciated!

"Y/N!"

It was so blissfully silent until your captain's sharp, loud call of your name broke you out of your light slumber. Your (e/c) eyes snapped wide open, scanning the seas around you for danger before realizing it's just Buggy being Buggy again.

"Y/N, get your ass here now!"

Grumbling, you stood up, cracking your stiff back. The salty stench of the sea invaded your senses and you took in a deep, calming breath. Your hand grasped onto the rough texture of rope and you slowly made your way down from the crowbar. The make-shift ladder kept swaying with your movements but you were confident that you wouldn't fall.

"Captain's calling for ya again?" Cabaji cycled past you. His lime green and black hair stood out from the brown wood of the ship. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Ooh, I wonder what he wants!"

You scoff, pushing your friend aside playfully.

"At least he isn't up to his shenanigans again," You said, laughing. "Wanna juggling knives on fire, Cabaji?"

He shivered at the reminder.

"Hell no!"

You nod, as if to say 'exactly', before bidding him goodbye. Your boots thumped against the wooden floors as you made your way through the ship before finally coming across the door labeled crudely 'cApTaIn'.

"Buggy?" You knock gently and an excited call of your name responds in kind. The door is flung open, revealing the love of your life, Buggy. His orange captain hat is off and he's wearing his signature red-and-white striped bandana. Baby blue eyes glimmered with happiness as he glomped you.

"OOMPH-"

"Love!" He buried himself in your shoulder. His cerulean tresses tickle you slightly and you're biting your lip to prevent giggles from bursting out of you. "Missed you...."

Your hands slipped under his thighs before you hoisted them up. Yelping, Buggy's legs were quick to trap you in a hug around your waist and his arms held onto your shoulders like a vice. You popped a quick kiss onto his scarlet-smeared lips, smiling because a bit of the lipstick had transferred onto your lips.

"Missed me, hmm?" You walked to your and his shared bed, laying him down gently. Buggy let go of you from his hands, spreading them wide on the bed while his legs remained wrapped around your waist, pulling you in. You leaned in even more, smiling.

"Yeah," He gave you a small smile. "We haven't been hanging out in a while..."

You laughed. Your hands tried to pull his legs off your waist but Buggy let out a small noise in alarm, ankles digging into your back.

Buggy whined.

"Noo...don't go!"

You booped his nose. His baby blue eyes widened.

"I'm just going to grab a brush," You looped a lock of cerulean hand around your finger, emphasizing the number of tangles and the messiness. "It's been a while since I brushed your hair, no?"

He hummed and slowly let you go. Reaching to the side, you grabbed the self-care bag. You tapped his butt to make him scooch slightly so you could sit on the bed.

"N-Not the butt!" Buggy yelped at the sudden touch and you laughed at the visible blush beneath his fading makeup. Your hands gently cradled his face and he froze.

You showed him the wet wipe in your hands.

"I'm just going to wipe the make up off, okay, Bugs?"

He nodded, looking into your eyes.

"Okay..."

You pressed a kiss to his red nose before gently wiping off the white. Each of your every movement was gentle and kind, not as aggressive as Buggy would have done to himself.

Once the make-up was off, you reached up to pull off the bandana; Buggy leaned forward to make the process easier for you. The moment the red-and-white fabric was off, his cerulean tresses fell like mesmerizing ocean waves.

"I'll never get tired of your hair," You took a lock and pressed a kiss to the hair.

Buggy laughed.

"Only you would say that," He hummed, turning around so you could brush his hair easier.

You frowned.

"I'm serious, Buggy," You began combing his hair, apologizing when the brush would get caught in tangles. "Your hair brings out the blue in your irises and stands out against the white of your face make-up."

"You think so?"

Buggy's voice was quiet, a murmur only.

You tapped his shoulder and he spun around. His eyes widened as you captured his now-bare lips into a kiss and he visibly melted in your embrace.

"Mmph~"

You pulled away, giving him a loving grin.

"It's my favorite shade of blue."

Buggy buried his blushing face in his gloved hands but you could still see traces of bright red on his cheeks.

#one piece #one piece live action #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #op buggy #buggy x reader #opla #opla buggy #captain buggy

[superiorsturgeon]

Forgiveness

Ren: *visiting with Arkos couple after a fight with Nora*

Ren: *sighs* Thank you again for letting me come by on such short notice, Jaune…I just…needed some space from Nora right now…

Jaune: *doing dishes after dinner while Pyrrha plays with Arkos kiddos in the living room* Hey, it’s no problem! The twins love when their favorite uncle visits! *pauses awkwardly* We can set up the pull-out bed after I finish, if you need to stay the night…?

Ren: Thank you again…*hands Jaune a cleaned plate*

Jaune: *stacks plate in drying rack and starts on a glass*

Jaune: …you know, Ren, if you wanna talk-

Ren: *interrupting suddenly* How did you forgive Pyrrha?

Jaune: *nearly drops glass* W-what…?!

Ren: I-I’m sorry, I’m not very good at…expressing my emotions or talking about others…

Ren: But after what happened with Nora, I need to know!

Ren: Back when Beacon fell, Pyrrha sent you away before she went up in the tower…you said that was your first kiss, but then she used it to trap you in a locker. It was a betrayal of your trust when Pyrrha chose to send you away and go to a fight she couldn’t hope to win.

Ren: I could see that she hurt you, Jaune. Even when she came back, I saw the pain she caused you, but now…

Ren/Jaune: *look over at Pyrrha playing with squealing Arkos children, balancing one on each shoulder while squatting up and down*

Ren: …and now, I’ve never seen two people more happy or in love.

Ren: So please, I need to know…

Ren: How did you do it? How did you work past something like that and stay together?

Jaune: *puts down the glass and pauses, watching Pyrrha do push-ups with her son clinging to her back while her daughter crawls underneath*

Jaune: …I gotta tell you, Ren, it was really rough for us, when Pyrrha came back. At first, I was like, SUPER happy to see her again, you know? It was like everything could go back to the way it was before Beacon fell!

Jaune: But after that feeling wore off, I remembered all that stuff you were just talking about, like how Pyr kissed me, and then shoved me in a locker and ran off without me to get killed instead of coming with us, and it started to bug me.

Jaune: …like, I REALLY started to resent her.

Ren: We all noticed. You stopped talking around her and stopped looking her in the eye. I think Pyrrha almost cried every time she saw you because you seemed so distant.

Jaune: Yeah…I was kinda bitter…Looking back, I know what she did was a dumb teenage decision made under a lot of unfair pressure, but at the time I was still mad, and I guess I kinda wanted to see her hurt because she hurt me…

Jaune: …in hindsight, it was pretty shitty of me to be all passive-aggressive and cold just to hurt her back, and I was being a dumb teenager too…

Ren: Did that realization make the difference?

Jaune: Nope.

Jaune: Believe it or not, I called my mom.

Jaune: I told her everything that was going on, and my problems with Pyrrha, and she gave me some advice her grandpa told her about relationships:

Jaune: *does a southern accent* “When the goin’ gets tough, ya only have two options: Ya either stop lovin’ ‘em, or ya love ‘em a whole lot more!” 🤠

Ren: …so…

Ren: …that’s the secret?

Jaune: *resumes putting cleaned plates away in cabinet* …weeeeelllll…there was a lot more to it than that! Pyrrha and I had to have a big talk about our relationship, and there were a lot of tears and apologies, but great-grandpappy’s advice kinda made me sit down and decide whether I wanted to be with Pyrrha or not, and once I decided that I wanted to be with her I could figure out what I had to do…

Jaune: *feels an impact as his son glomps onto his leg like a koala*

Jaune: *grins down at Arkos kid* And I think I picked the better choice! *scoops up his son as Pyrrha gathers up Arkos daughter for bedtime*

Ren: …your great-grandpappy sounds like a wise man, Jaune…

Ren: If you don’t mind, I think I need to make a call.

Ren later called Nora and they made up on Jaune and Pyrrha’s pull-out couch.

Nora: *snuggled against Ren’s chest* I’m glad you called, Ren, but what made you decide to give me another chance?

Ren: Someone gave me some advice that helped me decide what I wanted:

Ren: *in a terribly-executed southern accent* “When tha goin’ gets tuff, ya only got two opshuns: stop luvin ‘um, or ya luv um a whole lot more!”

Nora: …

Nora: Ren, that was sweet and touching and everything, but that accent was, like, the WORST accent I’ve ever heard! 🤣

Ren: Nora, please, it wasn’t THAT bad…

Nora: I love you, Rennie, but that was so bad it was offensive! 😂

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #arkos #renora #jaune x pyrrha #jaune arc x pyrrha nikos #ren x nora #lie ren x nora valkyrie #the quote is from colonel potter in M*A*S*H #it’s not nice to make fun of other people’s accents #angst-ish #I don’t do serious writing that well

[ridreamir]

I didn't see the Drayton x Reader hcs before when I sent that ask, I do apologise,

I was also wondering if you could do a Drayton x Reader who's physically affectionate and/or clingy,?

Like, they absolutely love physical touch and prefer to be touching, even if it's smthng as simple as legs touching,,,

Hello there! No worries about the double asks, I don't mind at all! I can absolutely write somethin for ya :^) No established romantic relationship, though it's heavily implied there's feelings that are somewhat sort of being acted upon.

Warning! Potential Spoilers for the Indigo Disk DLC!

Before you came to Blueberry Academy, it was obvious you weren't one for physical touch if it weren't from one of your Pokemon. You'd bristle at a hand on your shoulder and stiffen if he rested his arm on you. So Drayton saw an opportunity and he took it. Any moment he could, he'd be brushing against you, grazing you with his fingers and pulling at your bag straps just to mess with you. Whatever they were doing to you back in Paldea and Kitakami must've been something since you were so skittish and wary of everyone around you.

He got scolded multiple times by multiple people, Amarys even tried mediating. You've been through some things, they argued, he shouldn't be pushing your boundaries. Sounded like jealousy to him. And you know what? He was right, because after months of persisting, you'd gone and eased into it, adverting your eyes and sinking into his touch which had went from teasing to gentle in an instant.

Your little friend has been nothing but trembling with murderous intent since the first time you subconsciously leaned into his touch. Drayton's not against showing Kieran that he's lost again. Everyone who sees him as lazy can't seem to realize that he's actually just playing the long game. Obviously his methods are the best because who else but the Drayster managed to break down those walls you put up? No one! But... maybe he bit off a little more than he could chew, since you are... a lot. No one's even scratched the tip of the iceberg, but at some point he realized that you're less like a regular human being and more like a weird, unidentifiable creature of some sort in terms of your behaviors and mannerisms. Might be all the weird energies you've been exposed to, or maybe you were always this way. Either way, he's just started to crack the code and maybe it's something he wasn't prepared for.

Now it's hard to keep it on the down-low just how needy you really are. You want to be near him, regardless of the consequences. So much so that you've started to skip out on everyone else.

You're physically demanding, too. It's like the game flipped on him, because now he's the one who's scared you're going to be caught glomping on him and he's going to be hunted down for it. Kieran and his sister have already been brandishing their knives, he can't have the whole school after him! Plus, it all must look so... intimate from the outside. Of course, between you, you're nothing but good buds, but if a teacher saw you both entangled together they'd think the worst, and that'd not be good for either of you.

But, well, he certainly feels smug when you come and sit in his lap while he's playing on his phone. Even more so when the thrill of potentially getting caught could mean a furious little pipsqueak and the news getting out that you're his, his.

#x reader #pokemon #reader insert #pokemon x reader #drayton x reader #drayton pokemon #dlc #blueberry academy #physical affection #cheezy #friends to more #not quite lovers

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ STEP ONE

tw. noncon, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, body horror, decapitation, dacryphilia, fear kink, objectification, threats, humiliation, blood, brief throw up scene, weapon play, choking, overstimulation, manipulation, physical harm, mask kink wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely friend whomst i cherish dearly ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning meeee!! i t was very fun to have a reason to write some grimy gross shit again and your big brain is the best mwUah this was so fun i hooopppee you enjoy it !!! kiSs kISS kiss and thankies to rhi for beta-ing <33

oikawa tooru x fem!reader x iwaizumi hajime

Crack, it pops. And squelch, squelch, crack.

The blurred spats of red-tinted light that fill the night sky blur until they seem to vanish, and the ache in your head becomes pressing enough to numb. Numb to the coldness of the dirt, the uncomfortable stickiness to your back and thighs, tingling down your feet. The stars - you know them to be stars though they don’t look it, bleeding out like lambs across a pitch black voidness - get blocked out when the movement comes back to your view.

And a dirty, wet hand lands against your cheek hard enough to knock your face to the side, stinging up and down your skin. You get another taste of the copper coating your tongue— and a deep, pinched wheeze has you spluttering on the floor as your lungs come back to life.

It’s so cold.

But the pressure building between your ears rings before it pops, and the deep, rough string of wordy promises comes back to you. You almost think the quiet behind them hurts more. There’s caked blood that clots your nose, as your body is ragdolled onto a lap. Better view of the sky. Better view of the off-human face that forces back into sight. It cracks, it pops. You barely breathe.

And wonder how you got here.

+

There’s something unpleasant about the way he words it. “Okay, don’t be a baby. How old are you? Didn’t we all agree to this?” You’re not prone to telling your friends no, but there’s a difference between gentle encouragement, and being an abstemious dick. “We just got here.” With a gentler smile, the blond’s girlfriend shoots you a little encouragement.

“If you really don’t like it, you can always step out, you know. These things are made more for silly jumpscares than actual panic.”

Your shoulders square a little higher to your ears when you hop off the bar of the fenced line. “I know,” you say, be it a little mumbled. The other couple in front of you, classmates, look back to give you the kind of look that would amuse. If shot at anyone else. Your hands bury into your jacket pockets as the last pinkish light of the day starts to dim, and you pick at the loose thread in there. You aren’t the biggest baby you have ever been, but you’re first to admit you’re no brave soldier. You’re jumpish, cowardly when it comes down to the wire, and when presented with a choice, you’d rather go. Given enough incentive, you’ll run through in a dash and waste twenty dollars.

But your ride currently is nuzzled into the shirt of her brand-new boyfriend. It won’t be so bad. These things are usually too quick to get your money’s worth anyway. The corn reaches high though, enough to hide everything from view as the end of the line comes closer and closer, and distant screams prompt eager giggles and glances. Yeah, these kinds of things have never been your strongest suit. A group of teens behind you engages in happy chatter as you softly tap a rhythm into the half-muddy loam, glancing between your friends very briefly. Both couples glomp into one another in the wait, happy to walk the entire way in little pairs. Happy to hurry on without you too if push comes to shove, probably.

Prey instinct.

Maybe someone other than you will get scared enough to run, and maybe that will be distraction enough to forget about you and your inevitable anxiety. You take a deep breath, and let the fresh countryside air fill up your lungs- lovely, mixed with wisps of smoke machine and lingering scent of manure. Instead of psyching yourself out too much, listening to yet another trail of screams that grow further and further away, you turn to watch one of the two barely legal workers as the walky scratches obnoxiously.

“Tchhhk-we ca -end in —ther group.” The mousey looking kid has straggly hair that is tied in a low pony under an obnoxious red and yellow theme park cap, and looks about as pumped as you feel waving in the first two of your party down the correct path into the maze.

He gives an unenthusiastic spiel, and then swings open the gate before pressing a few buttons. “Two incoming.”

“Yup— tchh- also have so- lag on our—ne. Are y- changi— t- channel?”

Almost instantly as the couple disappears around a corner, you hear a few high pitched screams and giggles join the ones in the distance, and you cross your arms over your chest. Even though you try, your heart rate automatically rises when another scream rings out. The teen talks into his device for a moment again, and you brace yourself as you friends line up at the crooked little gate. After a second or so, a slight pinch moves between the teen’s brows, and he eyes leave his co-worker to stare into the field.

“-Saw s-eone… w-kin- around… premise. Pl—e advise.” The crackle of the device is loud enough to reach you, before another couple of screams cuts it off.

The screams are loud, high pitched and uncomfortable. They set hairs on the back of your neck up on end. “Huh.” As the dyed blond gives a wave, he aims himself at your group and says, “sorry, but you have to wait a few more minutes.” His little mousy walk from behind the stand annoys you more than it probably should. But you can’t help it. You want to be done with this, sooner rather than later. “Gimme five.” The kid gives his co-worker a quick mumble, before he disappears down into the one neat path between the corn, and you wait again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your heart beats steadily, but hard. Enough to have you wanting to nervously pace the small area of path, but choosing against it after all. The screams are fainter now, further away. Fuck this shit. As the sky lowers into an off-red sort of color, you finally speak up. Your roommate’s pretty eyes find yours. “Hey, can I walk along with you guys actually? I really… really don’t like this sort of stuff.” The noirette barely gives the accompanying blond a look, before letting out a little sigh.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late anyway. We can head home quicker that way.” Her boyfriend doesn’t bother to conceal the way he rolls his eyes at you, but doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything either. Just wrap your arms around yourself and pull your sweater closer to your body. Only a few minutes pass where you all stand in silence, and the people behind joke among each other.

The other teen perched on the entrance eventually gives your group a little nod, and opens the shabby gate with the most monotone greeting. “Welcome to the Night Shift, Miyagi’s scariest paranormal experience. Please stay on the path and refrain from touching our ghosts.” His half-lidded expression and dead-tired wave of the arm almost make you want to smile, if only in understanding. But instead you shuffle along the damp path. “Enjoy.”

The two in front of you start off a liberal, bouncy pace, as your roomie prattles on, and your eyes scan the long path of corn before you. It sways softly in the wind, and the shade it casts is awfully cold. The rattling sound of leaves is the least of your worries though, trying to keep up with your friends. Your heart pounds in your chest, because above anything, it’s the quiet anticipation before the scare that gets to you. The steps get closer and closer to the first corner, and you know. You know how this stuff goes. But Mina gives a little glance back as her long hair sways along her back, ready to encourage you.

A jerk has you all skittering back. Mina and your screams sound in harmony in the cooling night. The pale white face that jumps out at the three of you is a gaunt, gross version of some kind of thready zombie— and makes an awful scratchy sound. “Give your souls. Give your souls.”

Its closeness to your face is enough to make you stumble, ignoring the laughs. But the ghost doesn’t immediately leave, instead crowding you for long enough to have you covering your ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. The rapid pounding of your blood reaches your cheeks. You hate this stuff, from the ache of your chest to the uncomfortable closeness, and you try to calm down.

The ghost has you almost slinking into the corn to escape, before you can finally walk on.

Your friends are almost at the next turn already, and it feels to get darker by the second. Mina has her arm clamped in her boyfriend’s arm, whose smug grin flashes when you hurry on. “Ty, wait! Guys! This isn’t funny-” your voice fails you almost as soon as they reach the next corner way before you do, and disappear from view, “come on, please?” The scream that follows only has you hesitating more, feet slowing as you stand in the now-almost completely dark field. “Guys, this isn’t funny! Wait for me!” you try again, and come to a halt before even the next turn.

All of this is so fucking stupid. If you weren’t such a baby, maybe you’d be unbothered by this turn of events. You even predicted it, didn’t you? Your eyes sting, both from the adjustment of light, and the adrenaline pumps through you— before you set another few steps.

It can’t be that far. It can’t be that scary. It’s just stupid employees in masks. A scream that must be Mina’s rings out further along than you hoped they’d be- and has you balling your fists. If only you can get past, maybe you can catch up to them.

Either way, you’ll have to face more ghouls before the night is over.

And—

Crack.

A scream, behind you.

Your feet fail to start, and goosebumps raise all the way up your legs and back. There’s a whole myriad of noise, a loud bubble of screams that sounds much too close for comfort. They squeal and cry out for a painfully long few seconds. Long enough to push past rational thought before it goes near-quiet again.

And your heart patters on in your throat.

There’s a range of sounds you prepare yourself to hear when you go to any sort of horror experience. The dull, repeated thump, and the long sort of moan— that sounds out above the wind, isn’t really one of them. The cold climbs up your arms and chest before you can gather yourself. The moan isn’t like anything you associate with a ghost. It’s low and groany and continues for a long time, like a wounded animal— and lasts only until a heavy noise snuffs out the plea.

And - the instinctual part of your mind tells you to hide.

It’s gone dark. It’s gone quiet.

If Mina hasn’t made it to the end yet, you can’t hear her. 

Ever so slowly, your thoughts start up again, as you keep your ears wide open for any sound at all. There’s only the soft fluttering of the wind playing through the leaves. Before, as if under the breath of something larger, the sound of scraping leaves against clothes and the nervous rustling of someone moving through the field to your left makes you hold your breath. Your hands move over your mouth to clamp down the stuttered sound of your breathing.

You don’t know why, but it’s something in the air. The irregular noise, the lack of any other sound, and you staring into the darkness… screams at you. An animalistic feeling of threat, whispers that something is wrong. Your hands shake too hard to control. After a little bit of a pause, the noise returns. It’s a second of struggle, before another dying murmur sounds out, louder, closer, and then more shoving. More hacking. Your lungs feel like they’re squeezed too narrow, and your anxiety doesn’t allow for any other thoughts than a prey’s panic.

The nervous rustling gets louder and louder by the second.

Can’t you just step out of the experience? You don’t want to do this anymore— the childish part of your brain begs, and though you want to, you can’t make yourself move. Your lips stay tightly shut. The rustle to your left takes a more rapid pace, before it finally, finally grows a bit quieter again, and you manage to take a breath- pinched and wheezy.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Run.

Your ribcage aches under the pressure of your heart.

Only seconds before the noise would turn the corner, you find yourself stepping back and squeezing yourself between the stalks of corn, shaky hands grabbing and pushing yourself to hide.

Far enough to blot out the last bit of light of the evening, and have you squeezing yourself back until you’re a few feet from the path. You can’t see much, but the darkness adjusts quickly. Then, it’s quiet. The fine hair on your arms stands upright as soft taps get closer, and closer, and closer. And the corn doesn’t feel like enough of a shield.

Another scream comes from the way your friends ran off— girly, shrill and true— it lasts barely a second, but echoes for longer.

… Mina. It’s quiet.

Whatever stupid game is being played, you suddenly decide you want no part in it, and the cold wind ruffling the blades above your head feels like the only disguise for you and your anxious breaths. The footsteps reach, and slowly move past as the air gets stuck in your throat. You’re no fighting champion, and yet, your first instinct is to squeeze your fists tighter.

Only a dark figure can be made out from where you’re hidden, but the head is white, some kind of ghoulish looking mask. Ghost like, if not for the black stitches and blood. The presence is more pressing— it grates with each step. For a tiny moment, the figure stops in his tracks to scan around, and it gives you the flash you need to see that the thumping is caused by the heavy metal tool he periodically swings out and taps onto the floor.

It’s like an elongated butcher’s knife, wide and coated with glittering, royal red that drips down the pristine edge of the blade. Carrying the thick smell of copper behind him. And you’re freaked out enough to conclude it looks real. It can’t— can’t possibly be.

As soon as he passes you for enough time for you to steady your heartbeat, you sneak out of your hiding spot— before you hurry back down the way you came. Your every step feels too loud, and though you try to make sense of what you’re feeling, it comes out in a wobbly line of wetness along your eyeline. With another few step you make it around the corner and—

falter in your step.

There’s blood everywhere. Hands, throat, the huge gash in between the neck and shoulder that reveals flesh and tissue and bone, and oozes a vile smell of blood unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s all encompassing. The previously scary ghost is reduced to nothing more than a sad heap of fleshy canvas for the layer of blood that pools around them.

You can’t think. Can’t breathe.

Blood, blood, there’s so much blood everywhere.

On your shoes, on their ghouly face, on your hands as you kneel down and find it disturbingly warm and sticky and real. The feeling of dry heaving takes over you, and you stand with trembling- everything.

Your heart pounds. Eyes are blurry and make everything a little hard to navigate. You want out of this stupid fucking game. It wasn’t fun to begin with, and it definitely isn’t now. Out, out, all you want is out. This is a nightmare, or the worst practical joke ever. You wipe your involuntary tears with a shaky hand as you walk, only to find yourself letting out a squeak when the red gets onto your face. You rub your cheek onto your shoulder, speeding up— and barely allows for wheezy, heavy breaths of air.

By the time you get back to the gate, you’re almost blinded by your tears. But even your tears can’t hide the growing terror that remains. The group of teens never made it into the path. They lay clumped in a mess of bodies and blood, one of them hanging over the posts with blank, dead eyes- and a horrifying wound that nearly severs his head from his neck. Everything is covered in blood, from the ground, to the clothes, faces, the neat red-yellow uniform- it all has soaked and turned a dirty, off-maroon color that seems to fit the smell emanating from the scene.

You can’t help it, you heave over onto your knees and nothing but some pure acid comes out as you try to look around. This is real. Real. It can’t be, but it is.

Your choked noises of panic ring through your ears wiping your mouth on your sleeve, along with a loud buzzing that goes back and forth, back and forth, back and forth when-

The footsteps suddenly have you turning around, and screaming. The man’s here. You scramble up and jump onto the wooden fence to swing your leg over, but a heavy hand grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you back as you yelp out loud, and grab at his wrists.

“Let me go! Let go!” Your scalp feels like it’s tearing apart with the force when you land onto the cold floor, and the ghoul’s face comes to hover over yours— your tears don’t allow for proper breaths as you cling onto his arm and dig your nails in. “I wanna go home~” your cried, pathetic whimper is all that comes out as you stare, and in the pits of the blacked out eyes, olive irises stare back.

The man raises his other hand, and everything goes black.

+

When you come to, there’s an awful stench that you taste more than smell. You’re so dizzy, and your eyes blot with black clouds everywhere you look— for much too long. Your nose clogged with thick coats of blood hurts, as you roll onto your belly with a groan and cough against the strained pressure.

Fuck, everything hurts.

There’s a bubble of noise around your head that pops in and out of focus each time you blink, and breathe. Crack, it pops. And squelch, squelch, crack. You try to raise yourself off from the cold, damp floor, but a heavy shove to your side has you landing on your sore shoulder, and staring up at the sky with shallow gasps. A hand slaps your face sideways hard, you’re heaved up, and suddenly everything floods back to you. The blood. You try again to right yourself, and your head spins as you try to shake off the cotton that’s filling your head and pushing on your brain.

You’re aching, and your mouth is full of blood.

It’s only when you try to focus on your environment that you manage to make out the muffled crying of a woman — and your head snaps up. Mina’s bound, gagged, and she’s got mascara tracks all down her face and cheeks, and her hands lay uselessly on her lap. Dripping with blood. It’s only after much too long that you notice that the figure that’s moving in your periphery is landing a huge axe over and over again into what’s left … of a human skull.

Blond hair is matted together with clots of blood, and it looks more like a soup than a head. The soft crack and squelch as the axe is pulled out of the floor has you crying out.

Oh god. You wish you were dead.

The figure has a black mask covering most of his face, and yet, you feel like you can see the smile between the narrow slits as he turns to you. The man leans into the handle of his blood soaked axe with all the weight of his tall but solid body. “Two little doves, one gets caught. One tries to fly, the other gets got.” Besides the ring of black around his eyes, you can’t see anything. Your lip wobbles as you breathe, and stare.

“It’s a nursery rhyme. Fits, don’t you think?” His mouth is just barely visible under the forked plate that covers it, and pink lips curl up at the ends. “I know movies teach you to expect a lot of dramatics, but that’s all the drama you’re going to get from me, don’t worry.” He noisily pulls up his nose, before crouching down before you. “I’m Tooru, that’s Iwa. What’s your name?”

At the mention of a second name, you turn over your shoulder to see the figure of the man that caught you— white mask splattered with drying blood, crouched much too close behind you. Your voice dies in your throat, but a soft whimper still comes out. You can’t help it. Cold shivers run up your spine and make your entire body feel wooden.

“Tch.” Tooru gets up to lift the axe high above your head, and then brings it down towards you a few times. “Come on, don’t be like that.” He leans down to grab your roommate’s face, and shakes her with a glance towards you. “I already know this is Mina. Now you tell me yours.” Your nod is quick, and you breathe out your answer just as quickly as he comes back over to you, now scraping the sharp blade along your jaw. “Good girl.”

“Now you’ll be happy to know that you two were the finalists of our little game. Con-gra-tula-tions.” His sing-songy chant sets your skin on end. He stares at you with thinly veiled expectation, and you take a shuddered breath through your bloody nose.

“Thank you,” your voice is barely a mousy squeak.

And Tooru’s laugh comes out almost instantly, cheerfully rocking onto the back of his heels. Just a second, before he stands up again, long legs towering his shape above you. “Sadly enough there can be only one winner. So,” he pauses, eyes glittering with too much mirth, “Iwa, if you would.” The man who’s been sat basically glued to your backside for the whole time gets up to pet his hand over your hair a few times, before stepping over to Mina in silence.

“Wait, wait…” His butcher’s knife comes to rest on her shoulder as she cries the same pinched, pathetic patterns as you do. Tears and spit drenching into the gag in her mouth. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Shhh shh shh,” the dark masked one chants again, and his axe comes to pinch into your neck too, nicking the soft side of your throat with a sharp sting. “Here’s the question. Who is… the one that has to die?” He pushes the blade harder into your skin. “And you better answer, because Iwa likes killing pretty girls. I can’t guarantee what will happen if you think too long.”

“Wait…” you ask, looking into the panic filled eyes of the girl before you. You can see every thought, every regret in her face. “Wait, wait, please. I…”

“Three-”

“Wait!” you squeak now, eyes shifting between both men. “I can’t-”

“Two-” He mockingly moves the axe along your shoulder like a golfer, and your panic blossoms onto your tongue. “One.”

“Me,” you cry out instinctively, vocal chords aching. “Me, kill me.”

It stays quiet for what feels like an eternity, before Tooru lets out a soft chuckle. “Iwa’s right. You are cute. A sweet, little thing, aren’t you.” Then the other guy moves too quick for someone his size, and his weapon glides with one heavy swing right under her jawline in slow motion. The glittering edge of the knife in the moonlight arcs almost beautifully. Slicing through your former friend’s neck with a clean thwop, not enough resistance, before blood splatters on you, on him, on everything.

Her head falls before her body does, with a dull thump that sears into your brain.

And you-

Everything blanks.

You think you scream, but the buzzing and shaking is too loud to make out anything. All you know is that your crying gets worse, and you bury your face into your knees with a sob. Your thoughts are a wiry, tangled ball of terror that comes out in faint pants only, and shaky fingers that curl around your knees. The axe drops to your side before two hands land on your head and slide down to yank you back up to face him, and Tooru’s lips get close enough to you to feel the puff of air on your face. “Shhh, doll. It’s alright now. You did so well.”

“You talk too much,” the more gravelly tone of the other man hits your psyche like a shovel, and has you sobbing into the soft touches along your cheeks.

“I’m setting the mood, Iwa-chan.”

The white masked man steps over the body to your side much too casually, before kneeling down beside you. “Set it in silence for once.” To your horror, his eye contact doesn't wane when you cry harder. In fact, he seems to think for a second, before grabbing your arm in his heavy, warm palm and pulling you closer. “C’mere. You’re gonna be good. Okay?”

“I- I,” you stutter, and pull up your snotty, wet nose again, before he leans in to slide his head into the crook of your neck, and moves the mask up a few inches. Only to press a few kisses along the bare skin, and up to your jaw. If you weren’t so mortified, maybe you’d fight. If you weren’t so shell-shocked, you’d take the weapon to your side and swing it around until it stops.

But his low, impatient grunt against your pulse has you going quieter. “You’re going to be good.” It isn’t a question. “Understood?”

“Yes…” It tastes wrong in your mouth, like the bloody taste that slides from your nose to your mouth, and everything that’s gotten onto your shirt, shorts, on every extremity now. After another second of raising your heartbeat so much you’re halfway to passing out, he finally moves— to press his lips against yours for a second, and slots the mask back in place. If you were any more lucid, maybe you’d be able to comprehend what will follow next. “Take off your top,” the quieter one mumbles, as he starts unbuckling his own belt.

“Here, I’ve got it,” Tooru then chants, too playfully, taking your hands and moving them above your head. As they rise, you feel the sudden feeling of terror flood over you again, shuddering as the fabric is pulled up and wipes past the mix of fluids on your face. You stay like that though, letting him maneuver you like a toy until your shirt lands beside you, and he then starts work on your bra. “Aren’t you a pretty one, hm? Cutie.”

The way he drags his fingers along your shoulder to push each strap aside one at a time is infuriating, but aside from lowering your arms to the side, you don’t— can’t stop them from unhooking and letting the bra join the clothes. Iwa’s quick to perk up at the sight of you, halfway to shouldering Tooru aside to take a good look. And though he doesn’t speak, the soft grunt and way he goes to cup himself over his pants says plenty. Your soft hiccups start back up at that. You don’t want to. You don’t want to one bit- and yet there’s nothing you can tell your body that would make you move. Not fast enough, at least. Tooru simply shakes his head. “You’re a real romantic.”

“Don’t need to be-” His fingers slide up your side before grabbing a handful of your tits and squeezing, as he gets closer on his knees. “Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, Shittykawa. Start taking off your fucking clothes.” His hands roam along your cold skin, brushing playfully against your peaked nipples a few times before he looks back at your face. “You’re gonna take that pretty little mouth and place it on my cock. And if you bite me, I’ll pull each of your teeth out of your skull before you die.” His thumb swipes along your bottom lip, before pushing in and dragging the pad along your tongue. “Understood?”

Your voice loses all volume when he slides the digit deep enough to choke you up, before he pulls back briefly. “Mhm.” Tooru to your side doesn’t make haste in taking anything off, and seems to glitter at the brief attention you give him as he unbuttons the black dress shirt, revealing a toned chest and arms. He’s littered with scars, and somehow, that only makes everything more real. Before you’re able to think it through, you start crying again, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the backs of your hands along your lashes like a child. “I…” You’re unable to stop. “I - I don’t- I wan- wanna go home— I-”

“Agh, fuck.” Someone speaks, but unlike the anger you expect to be met with, he groans it, delighted more than anything. Your eyes open when hands cup your face and you’re laid down onto the cold ground with a swift motion, and Tooru’s inhuman mask stares back at you— only revealing a wide grin. “Stupid girl. You can’t go home. You’re going to be our play thing until we get bored of you, or you stop being useful-” He dips down to an uncomfortable few inches from your face, and pinches your cheek until it hurts. “And then, you’re going to end up chopped into little pieces and buried in a shallow grave. Heh, how dumb are you? You wanna go home?” His mocking tone hurts almost as much as the sharp glare.

You can’t help it, you cry harder, and try to get from under his heavy body to hide your face— but that only faces you with the horrifying reality of your friends’ fate. “Wanna cry to mommy and daddy about it?” As he gets close enough to almost brush his lips over your ear, a soft chuckle comes out. “You better not tell Iwa-chan that. He’s really mean when he gets jealous.” He moves to pry open your mouth and slides two long fingers in without warning, having you choking again and spluttering around. “Now be a good girl. Or don’t be. Doesn’t matter to me.” Your tongue squirms uncomfortably as the fingers invade your throat and make it feel like you’re drowning in your own spit- with desperate puffs of air through your nose as you cry.

“Move that way,” Iwa grunts after a few seconds, before staring at the wobbly line along your eyes again. “Guess I get to go first.” There’s a distinct lilt of amusement that hangs over everything he says as he grabs your leg and yanks you up to start pulling your shorts down. Finally Tooru pulls back as you cough, spit leaking out of the sides of your mouth— before he too starts taking off the last of his clothing and hums softly to himself.

“Isn’t she really sexy when she’s pouting like this?” His gleaming praise is paired with a sharp tap to your cheek, as he peeks out a sliver of his tongue. “Crying like a desperate, little slut.” He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything in between your sobs before he grabs himself at the base and leans over you to press his cock head to your mouth. “You’re just a hole for us to abuse, you know that?” Something in the back of your mind begs for you to bite him, but almost as if he can smell your intent, his hand wraps around your throat and pushes, hard. “Try something and you’ll wish I was just being mean all over, cutie.”

“Gotta fit us, baby,” the other voice speaks, and makes you want to sink through the floor. Your body can’t stop crying, and the anger you feel is almost equal to your fear. It’s not enough to let you ignore them. They have to demand your attention too. “Pretty little cunt.” He starts rubbing your pussy up and down with rough fingertips, then spits and spreads around the wetness before he almost immediately pushes two fingers in dry— and it makes you jerk at the uncomfortable feeling of your body being invaded.

“I think she likes it when it hurts, Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s playful tone makes you want to scratch and bite and tear his head off. It just has you crying your eyes shut though, and lay there shaking. What other choice do you have? His tone doesn’t change as he demands attention by rubbing your tits and squeezing until you squeak. “That’s a good toy.” The rubbing and prodding does start to allow your wound-up muscles to loosen up a bit, but when the hand between your legs pulls back, you’re still not nearly wet enough. Iwa’s strong thighs under yours cause your hips to be aligned with his, as he grunts, as he looks, as he all but eats you up with his eyes.

But that’s all you get before Tooru’s patience wanes and he prods open your mouth, and starts feeding you his cock. “Ah, there you go, little crybaby. Open wide.” The taste of his precum on your tongue along with the bucking into your cheek makes you open your eyes to look up, and to your surprise, his mask has been discarded too. There’s a healthy flush on his cheeks, and in any other situation, you’d be taken aback by how pretty he is. Instead he grabs a hand of your hair and forces his flushed cock down your throat, as you try not to panic further. The feeling hurts. It hits the back of your mouth as your tongue squirms around him and he makes you heave—

and the hot, heavy cock that was pressed against your mound is now also pushed in you with a low, gravelly moan. There’s an ache inside you that is impossible to ignore as he fills you up inch by inch and the stretch really hurts, going into pleasure too quickly. You shouldn’t- you know you shouldn’t, don’t want to- you swear, you swear. Everything is too much. The cock in your throat makes you gag as Iwa bottoms out, grabbing your hips and anchoring himself inside you. The warm cloud of pleasure that spreads through you is painfully overwhelming. “Tight fucking pussy- god-”

The one closest groans out your name, as you feel his cock pound on your tongue. “Ain’t she just- so- gh-good?” Tooru’s flash to yours and the big, brown irises that look back at you make you shiver. He pulls back to beam down at you with what you could almost call a serene smile, as his cock jerks against your cheek and his hand runs down your body. Your pussy clenches as the rhythm of Iwa’s cock pistoning in and out of you starts feeling more than just painful— and wetness starts allowing him to slide in with a wet squelch. When a tiny moan comes out of your mouth, Tooru giggles, and leans in. “Don’t you like it a little too much? Having two bad men fucking you? After what happened-”

“Leave her be Oikawa- ugh,” Iwa groans from behind his mask, hiking you up to speed up the rhythm inside you, “don’t bully our new pet… Ah, fu~ck.” The loud paps of skin meeting skin is all you can hear, as your back lifts off the cold ground and his cock rocks into the best part of your walls. Your body is strung tight enough for every touch to feel better than the last, even the twitching of the drooling cock head as it’s smeared on your lips. “She feels so good.” 

“I’m just teasing. Right, little one?” You don’t fight the urge to stick your tongue out and lick along the glossy slit of his cock, and Tooru grabs your head to keep you there. “Oh sh-, see? She likes it. She likes getting fucked like she’s nothing. Just a greedy little cunt and throat, huh?” He moans as you wrap your lips around him again, and narrows his eyes at your face. “‘S all you’re good for.” The thumping vein on your tongue is thrust back into your mouth, and you cry as he fucks all the precum down your throat before pulling back.

“Ah, ah, ah~” Your whimpering is beyond you, as you cling to the arm of the one closest to you. You’re completely gone. The tingling all over your body is all you can feel, the heat of them over you and inside you as you cry and moan and whine, and the hands roam on your body. Each time Iwa bottoms out in you, your body jerks from the pleasure and impact, and Tooru’s eyes seem to darken as you blubber around the base of his cock for air. He doesn’t falter when he turns to stare at the other man instead, and keeps you down there. “She’s close, hurry it up.” 

“I want to cum inside,” Iwa immediately says back, and though you can’t see the frown you hear it’s there. He’s still fucking right into that spot that’s making you almost crosseyed, so they’re not even wrong. His deep voice rumbles as he thinks, and his strong, muscular shoulders square. All the while you’re trying to cum up for air, and Tooru threads his fingers through your hair. “You’ll have to wait a little for your turn.”

Your lungs ache and your vision goes spotty from being choked so long, before the brunet finally lets you jerk back off his drooling, spit-coated cock to take a deep breath, and let out a cry. Still each pump of Iwa’s body against yours taps your puffy clit, and winds that coil even tighter in your belly. Your dripping cunt clenches all the same, even as tears dry on your face. “Well, you heard the guy, cutie. He needs to breed that pretty pussy. So you’ll have to put up with me for a little while longer.” He slides his cock along the back of your tongue, before rolling his hips into you with a long moan.

You're going to cum. Oh no, you're actually going to fucking cum from this.

Tooru must know, because his eyes glitter as he meets yours, and licks his lips. “But you don’t mind that, right, pet?”

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#oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #oikawa smut #iwa smut #iwaizumi smut #hq x reader #tw.noncon #tw.decapitation #tw.murder #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.oikawa #💫ch.iwaizumi

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us in A Week - Chapter 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 8.4k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12, @swftlore, @hashcakes, @antoheartit, @finnickodaddy, @lilifl0wer, @antoheartit, @kermitcrimess, @persophonekarter, @aawdrea, @obaewankenobis, @xyxlyn, @meandurdaughtergotaspecialthing, @innercreationflower, @kisskittenn Chapter Summary: There's a certain kind of pain in reading or watching something from the perspective of a character who doesn't know about the tragedy ahead of them. It's like watching a scary movie and going, "No, don't go to sleep! He's behind the door!" Like in The Song of Achilles, we all know how the original story ends. We know how the actual prophecy plays out. We know that the moment Patroclus's heart stops, Hector and Achilles fates are set in stone. You wince whenever Achilles says he has no reason to kill Hector because "What has Hector done to me?" You want to tell him that Hector will do the unforgivable to him. You want to tell Patroclus not to go on the field. Tell Achilles to get his damned head out of his ass as he disguises Patroclus as himself because he is at risk of losing something far more important than his pride. You hold your breath as Patroclus is speared in the back and as Achilles realizes the consequences of his actions. You knew it was coming, and yet, you still read the story because a part of you hoped. You hoped for the hopeless. All this to say that knowing and still having hope regardless is crueler than complete ignorance. A/N: I imagined your stylist as Anne Hathaway in Alice in Wonderland.

Past (xiii) - You [22 & 23] - THE CAPITOL

If you were from any other district, maybe it would have surprised you how attached Rue is to you. But the sense of community in Eleven breeds this need for kinship. You’re social creatures; you’re not meant to be on your own. Certainly not in a place like the Capitol. It’s how you end up hugging your knees to your chest, an unnamed ocean projected on your wall as you try to get lost in the tides the night before the tributes will be marched into the arena.

No one talks about this part, or maybe they just don’t want to think about it. The part where being forced back into the room you slept in during your own Games eats at you—that anxiety that courses through your veins and leaves your body thrumming. Because no matter what you tell yourself, your body isn’t entirely convinced that you won’t be the one entering the arena tomorrow. You close your eyes and suddenly you’re fifteen again, gripping the sheets so hard you could tear holes in them as you fight the vomit threatening to ride the wave of acid reflux.

Sleeping beside Finnick helped. He reminded you that you weren’t fifteen and alone and wishing you’d die in your sleep so you wouldn’t be slaughtered live. And now? Well, at least there’ll always be the ocean.

There’s a knock on your door, so tentative that you would have missed it if you weren’t already so keyed up.

You pause the projection of the ocean, assuming the sound woke someone up. You get up and go to open it, only to see Rue. Suddenly you’re shamefaced and embarrassed, like you’ve been caught doing something pathetic, even though it’s doubtful she even knows what the sound was, let alone the significance of you listening to it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Was I being too loud?”

“No.” She shakes her head, shifting from foot to foot. “Um, I couldn’t sleep. And I just—I saw that your light was on and thought maybe you couldn’t sleep either?”

That may be true, but you don’t think it’s the only reason. Rue is the oldest of six and they all live in Shacktown. With all those people in one house, you’re sure Rue’s never slept alone a day in her life. It makes you wonder how she managed these past few days.

You’re an only child; your dad was killed before your parents could have any more, so you can’t say for certain that you understand what she feels. Yet, you reminisce on the fact that you’ve never really gone through a year of mentoring without Finnick being within arm’s reach.

She stares up at you with those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes, and you twist your mouth to the side.

“C’mon.” You move so you aren’t blocking the entrance anymore and you nod your head towards your room. “How ‘bout you sleep in here with me tonight? You don’t have to, of course, but we might as well stay up together.”

You know you’ve made the right choice when she grins big, rushes in, and takes a running start to jump on your bed. You shake your head fondly as she scurries to get under the blanket, lying down with them pulled under her arms and getting comfortable like she belongs there. The door slides shut behind you and you twist the dimmer until the only light comes from the projector. You settle into your bed beside Rue and you can’t help but snort at how she keeps smiling at you.

“So…What were you watching?”

“Uh.” You pick the remote up to unmute the device and the sound of crashing ocean waves fills any remaining silence. “The ocean.”

She looks over, seemingly transfixed by the drag and pull of the water. The nearest ocean to Eleven is the one that rests just outside of the towering fence and only serves as a deterrent for escaping. This very well may be her first time seeing one outside of a textbook. “Why?”

“Well, I,” you let out a weighted breath, "I thought it would make me feel better. Help me sleep.”

“Oh.” Says Rue and then she looks at you. “Why?”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Um. I guess the ocean reminds me of my friend and—I don’t know. It’s just easier to sleep with him around."

“Is he your crush?” Crush? Such an innocent question feels surprisingly weighted considering your current relationship with Finnick. Or lack thereof. Is it a crush now that it’s unrequited?

“I love him.” You tell the wall and it’s the sad truth. You still do. You wouldn’t be so hung up if you didn’t.

"Whoa. You like like him.” Like like. It’s been years since you heard that. It brings to mind how young she is. It’s not as if you needed another reminder. “It’s okay, I won’t tell. I like someone too.”

“Oh? And what’s his name?” You smile. You both flip over to face each other. You picture little you and little Sage, shyly holding hands during downtime, and find yourself hoping this boy liked Rue back.

“You can’t tell anyone.” She narrows her eyes and makes you swear, which you do with a pinky promise. “Coriander.” Her voice goes all quiet and timid as she hides her face and you wonder if you’ve ever seen anything cuter.

“Ah, I think I might know him.” She looks at you with wide eyes as you tease her, peering out from between her fingers.

“Nuh-uh, no way.” She denies it as you tap a finger on your chin and pretend to think about it.

“No, no. I think I do. He’s got pink hair, no teeth, and walks with a waddle, right?”

“No!” She giggles and you can’t help but giggle along with her. You take a moment.

“Finnick. The boy I like.” You provide when she looks confused. “His name is Finnick.”

“Oh! Oh! Is he that boy from Four? The victor?” It’s hardly shocking that she recognizes him. He’s one of ‘the greats’. You nod and she gasps like that’s the juiciest piece of gossip she’s ever heard.

“He’s pretty.” She whispers.

“He is.” You laugh.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you say without thought or contempt. Finnick’s indeed been nothing but kind to you since you’ve met him, current behavior not included. You find that even when you’re mad at him, you can’t actually disparage him. And you don’t want to lie to Rue. “He made me this." You lift your wrist and show her your bracelet. You’ve been wearing it around your ankle while you’re out in public, but when you’re on your own, it goes back to its rightful place.

“Cori made something for me too.”

She pulls her necklace up for you to see. It’s woven grass attached to a wooden charm shaped like a flower—you squint—or maybe a star? Definitely the handiwork of a child. Adorable. It reminds you of Cane.

“Your token?”

“Yep. He gave it to me when everyone came to see me off after I was reaped. He ran all the way home and back to give it to me. He almost didn’t get back in time, but I waited for him. I knew he’d come, and that’s why it’s good luck.”

“Makes sense.” You nod and she nods with you, like she’s happy that you get her logic. “He must like you a lot to go through all that.”

“Yeah. He’s sweet.” She smiles, fidgeting with the charm.

“I bet he is.” You push some of her curls out of her face. Just two doomed girls talking about their equally doomed crushes.

It’s silent for a moment; ocean noises make your eyes feel heavier with the pull of each tide. You watch as the shadows cast from the projector paint the ceiling in a series of swirling blues. You think you can see Finnick’s favorite color hidden amongst the other shades.

“Were you scared? When you went into the arena?” Rue asks and you still can’t find it in yourself to lie to her.

“Terrified.”

“Really? You’re so brave though?” She sounds so genuinely confused that you have to hold back your laughter. You don’t want her to think you're making fun of her. You appreciate the vote of confidence. It’s more than you have in yourself.

“I think…being brave means doing something even if you are terrified.” You look away from the ceiling to make eye contact. “It’s okay to be scared, Rue. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She mumbles like she doesn’t actually believe it.

“I think you’re incredibly brave.” You know she regularly went foraging for food for her siblings, and she took on more hours than what was required of her. Who knows how many times she’s entered her name for Tesserae?

And she’s still so young.

“Really?”

“Oh, definitely.” You laugh at her skepticism. You’ve laughed more with Rue in the short time you’ve had with her than in the last two years combined. Sadly, there hasn’t been much of a reason for you to. Realizing that this is the last night you two will laugh together is devastating. “I was fifteen and I felt like I was on the edge of breaking down the entire time. How are you so calm?” She’s only twelve years old—not even a teenager. If you were in her shoes, you’d have dehydrated yourself from how much you were crying.

“I am scared, but…" She drags out the ‘uh’, then shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t feel real.”

“Hmm. I get that.” You don’t tell her that it won’t start feeling real until she either wins or dies. It’ll only make her feel worse. She closes her eyes and you two are quiet for a time—so long that you think she’s fallen asleep.

Her voice is small when she asks, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Of course.” You hold your right one out for her to take, and her little fingers lace with yours. Her palms are callused too. Not as much as yours. No, she’ll never have enough time to catch up to yours.

Rue moves closer to you and you wrap your left arm around her. You feel her say your name more than you hear it and you hum in response. “Thank you.”

You pull her closer to your chest, your linked hands resting between you. “Of course, sweetheart.” You say this into the crown of her head, wishing that you could have done more for her and Thresh—wishing you weren’t so helpless.

But you can do this. You can give her this last comfort, this last embrace from home. You hold her tight as you both fall asleep and you only let her go when they come to take her away in the morning.

You do not cry.

-

You miss him, you decide one day. You thought you hated him after you got through your self-pity, but the words "hate" and "Finnick" are too oxymoronic to ever stay together for long. You were so angry at yourself, angry at the world, but you sat with that anger long enough to know what it truly was. Grief. You miss him the way you'd miss a limb. You're so used to having it that you only remember it's gone when you notice the space it used to occupy and feel the phantom aches of what it used to be—what you used to have and took for granted.

Chaff has described in detail the pain of losing his hand. But, he said, nothing hurts worse than remembering it’s not there.

You've never taken Morphling and you don't know anyone personally who's gotten hooked on it, but you imagine this is what withdrawal feels like. You haven't seen him since before he sent that letter, and it feels like he's actively avoiding you. You said years ago, after Annie's Games, that you could handle just being his friend if he decided he didn’t want you anymore. But he never gave you the chance.

That’s alright. It’s perfectly fine. You know when you’re not wanted around, you can take a hint.

Maybe it's for the best. There’s no telling what you would do if you ran into him again. Something pathetic, probably, like begging him to take you back. There's a specific moment when you really feel your loss. A few days into the 74th Hunger Games. Chaff is finalizing the transaction with the money Eleven gathered to send bread for Rue and Thresh, so you’re on your own. 

“Your girl is something else.” You tell Haymitch from where you stand beside him, arms crossed, as you split your attention between him and the Games.

He cocks his head slightly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, then returns to watching Katniss and Rue rehearse their strategy. “I can say the same to you.” You hadn’t expected Rue to team up with anyone, but you can’t say you are surprised that it’s Katniss. The girl did volunteer for her little sister, after all. Primrose, was it? But you’re concerned that your little speech about being brave by doing things that terrify you may have swayed her to come out of hiding and help Katniss.

You can’t take full credit, though. Rue—well, she’s far too kind for her own good.

You look him over, a glass of something alcoholic in one hand while the other remains buried in his pocket. Honestly, you’ve never seen him this invested in the Games before, but you could hazard a guess why. You weren’t just blowing smoke up his ass about Katniss. She’s honestly got a pretty good shot of winning, if not making it to the top five. She’s already a fan favorite, along with Rue, Peeta, Glimmer, and Cato. She’s exceeded your expectations, along with Haymitch’s. No wonder he’s been networking his ass off. If she’s actually got a chance at surviving this, he owes it to her to try.

That’s when it happens.

Rue’s screams echo in your ears as Katniss races through the forest. Something has gone wrong—she's been captured or the Careers are using her as bait, or—you wipe your sweaty hands on your dress and then recross them, wanting more than anything to bite at the skin around your nails. You hold your breath, hoping beyond hope that she’s saved from whatever fate has befallen her.

She’s by herself in the clearing. Caught in a net, but not hurt. Katniss manages to get Rue out and your muscles begin to untense, but the relief is incredibly short-lived. 

Marvel, that cocky little boy from two, throws his spear with deadly precision, lance soaring past Katniss to pierce Rue in the abdomen.

Your hands are numb as they cover your mouth, but then you remember where you are and drop them just as quickly. She pulls the spear from her chest and you want to yell at her not to, that taking it out will only make her bleed quicker. Like it even matters at all when she’ll bleed out regardless. You think you need to sit down.

Katniss catches her before she falls. You’re lightheaded.

Katniss sings to her after she whispers something that the mics can’t pick up and it feels like your heart is being wrung dry. You think of Rue’s mother. You think of her six siblings, who all look up to her. You think of Coriander. You think of how small she felt in your arms and how tightly she held your hand. You think of a lot of things in the time it takes for her heart to stop beating.

The cannon fires and all eyes go to you. Ranging from curious to pitying. Some are even tearful. She was a fan favorite, after all. Mentors and Capitols alike split their attention between you and the screens to catch your reaction, but your face is deceptively blank. You stare ahead silently, your eyes unseeing as they remain on the screen.

You will not give them the pleasure of seeing you break down. Katniss will leave and Rue’s body will be airlifted out and that will be the end of it.

This is nothing new for you. You’ve gone through this twelve other times. Why would she be any different? She isn't. You tell that to your shaky hands and they only tremble further. You tell your heavy lungs and they only get heavier. You try telling your chilly skin, but all it does is make you feel colder. Why is she different?

You want to close your eyes as Katniss grieves. To be able to save one little girl but not another, it must weigh heavy.

“I’m so sorry." Someone comes to stand beside you, some Capitol elite. “One less chance for your district to win.” You look at him from the corner of your eye and Haymitch scoffs on your other side. For one stupid moment, you thought he was offering his condolences.

“Right. Well. There’s still Thresh.” He nods along to your words, thoughtful, like you’re talking about the likelihood of a horse winning a race.

“Yes, he’s the big one, right? I have money riding on him or Cato winning.” Of course, he remembers his name and not Thresh’s. You close your eyes before they can roll out of your head. “I’d like to send him something to eat as a sponsor. I worry—what is she doing?” You open your eyes to see what tribute has captured his attention, only to see Katniss again. But she’s still with Rue, kneeling next to her body with an armful of flowers—

“She’s giving her a funeral.” You bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Rue rests on a bed of flowers—white daisies and lavender. She tucks a bouquet of daisies in her little hands and you wonder if Katniss knows the significance that being surrounded by flowers has for your people. Or maybe that’s something your two districts have in common. All that’s missing is fruit and it would be a proper Eleven funeral.

A funeral for a little girl. Your heart grows heavy with that realization and your mouth curls into a scowl.

You shouldn’t think about how she clung to you before she was sent into the arena. You shouldn’t think of Coriander’s childish hope dying with her. You shouldn’t think about her family watching this. You shouldn’t think of how her mother woke up this morning with six children and will go to sleep with only five. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t—

“Oh, how sweet.” The man coos.

“Yes.” Katniss faces the camera, kisses her three middle fingers, and salutes the cameras—salutes District Eleven. You don’t think of Coriander sprinting to the train clutching a grass-woven necklace with a good-luck charm that wasn’t very lucky. “Very sweet."

On instinct, you reach to the left for Finnick, but there's no hand to hold other than your own.

You need Finnick, and he isn’t here and for the first time since you've become a mentor, you have to brave the games by yourself and shoulder your grief alone. 

“Kid…” A flinch rolls through you at the unexpected voice, and you look to your left at Haymitch’s face as he goes through a range of emotions before settling on sympathy. No. Empathy. For a moment, you forgot he was beside you. But he hasn’t forgotten you. 

He does something that surprises you again. He places a big hand on the nape of your neck, warm and callused, and squeezes. You exhale sharply, your face twisting minutely, and it’s the closest thing to crying that you’ll allow yourself to do. He pulls you into his side, and it’s a battle not to burrow into him—a battle you lose. Your image will allow you to do this much. Allow you to be comforted while many of the other Capitols in the room do the same thing because it’s all very sad. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you’re held tight against his side and his hand goes down to rub your back soothingly.

No words are said between you two, and that’s enough. It has to be. Past (xiii) - Finnick 

[22 & 23] - DISTRICT FOUR Finnick has never felt worse.

The sky is clear, the stars are bright, and Finnick has never felt worse.

It’s a particularly quiet night on the beach. There’s no one walking along the shore, no bonfires, no night swimming. There’s only Finnick. 

He sits with his legs crossed under him; the coarse sand is warm against the exposed skin of his legs and feet. He’s always been able to come down to the beach to think and unload any weight on his shoulders. With how heavy his heart feels, he’s never needed that release more. A cool breeze carries the smell of the ocean, but it’s not as comforting as it should be. 

He reaches into the ornate box sitting between his thighs and just rests his hand there, letting his fingers ghost over the pages upon pages of parchment paper. He’s kept a tight lid on this box, hoarding your letters and your scent inside like a corvid. Even now, outside on the shore, your smell wafts around him—concentrated and stiff. He blinks past the tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t look inside; he doesn’t think he can handle it. To see the length of your relationship measured by words on paper, to know he’ll never be adding to this box again—it’s too much.

He pulls out a letter at random. 

His eyes have already readjusted to the darkness as he uses the moonlight to read. He traces the looping lines of your handwriting. 

This is the letter you sent along with that pretty picture of yourself in case he forgot what you look like. A beautiful sentiment, but largely unnecessary. Finnick knows your reflection as well as he knows his own, if not better. Even now, with all this space, time, and hurt between the two of you, he could draw your portrait blindfolded. Not that anything could ever live up to the real thing. Nothing can compare to you.

He sighs, twisting his bracelet around his wrist absently. He feels the cool grooves of the fish charm between his thumb and pointer finger as he looks at the stars. There are more stars than there are grains of sand. Each tiny, flickering dot is a blazing inferno, the likes of which he can hardly comprehend. They don’t shine nearly as brightly as you do in his memory. 

He just…he just wishes he could have told you that.

Unconsciously, his eyes fall on Cassiopeia. Punished for boasting about the beauty of her daughter. It’s not fair. Her only crime was loving her child, and for that, she was forced to give her up for the safety of her kingdom.

Sacrificing someone you love for the greater good. He can’t tell if he wants to scoff, scream, or cry. Maybe all three.

Are you looking at the same sky as him? Even now, are the two of you still connected? Is it cruel to hope for that? It has to be, but Finnick has found that he's grown rotten in his misery. Rotten and incredibly selfish. 

Over the past year, you’ve sent him letter after letter and he read each one with ravenous eyes—desperate for you in any way he could have you. You were angry, you were hurt, you were confused. You alternated between begging him and demanding him to reply. So he did. Of course, he did. He could never deny you anything.

He just never sent any of them.

He kept them stashed in a drawer, locked away so he didn’t have to look at them—wouldn’t have to look at his bleeding heart. It wasn’t healthy; he knows that, but still. He just wanted to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was back to normal. That he hadn’t ripped out his soul by tearing yours apart. 

Those letters had been a constant staple in his life for nearly seven years, and—he was going to wean himself off of it, off of you, really, he was. 

But he never got the chance to before they stopped coming a few months ago. They just stopped.

He should be happy about that. He should be pleased that you're moving on. He should be a lot of things that he's not, but, as it turns out, he’s getting pretty fucking sick of performing for an empty audience. You've given up on him, and you have every right to, but— 

God, it hurts.

It’s for the best. It’s what he wanted—no, it’s what he needed to happen for both of you. And it’s certainly better than the alternative Snow offered.

Knowing all that doesn’t make it hurt any less; it doesn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

He takes out another letter, and it’s…it’s the first one? The first letter you left him after you spent the night in his room. He remembers waking up on the floor, tired and raw from that conversation on the balcony. He was fully prepared to act like it never happened. He was a little disappointed to wake up alone, but he was sure that it only proved that you wanted to forget about it too. Imagine his surprise when he rolled over—not to the empty space he was expecting, but to a note on your pillow.

I really appreciate…

Thank you for…

Just thank you.

He was left floored. He was seventeen years old and he couldn’t remember the last time anyone thanked him for anything.

Finnick brings the note to his nose and your perfume floods his senses, drowning him in memories. Memories of long train rides home from the Capitol, his only company being the smell of you on his clothes.

And try as he might, he can’t forget. He can still feel the blood caked under his fingernails and flaking at his wrist. Can still feel the warmth of your beating heart in his hand after he ripped it out. That’s his punishment. Remembering it all, good and bad.

He’s broken from his musing by the crunching of sand approaching him from behind.

“You’ve been out here for hours. Aren’t you cold?” Annie's soft-spoken voice is almost lost in the wind. No. He isn’t. He’s the exact opposite, actually. He’s scorching from the inside out. He’s burning bright and hot and one day he’ll implode under the weight of it all like a supernova. The only respite he can imagine is the cool relief of your touch. He’s scared he’ll forget what that feels like. 

She sighs when he doesn’t answer. “We know you’re hurting, Finnick, and we’re worried. You can talk to us. You don’t have to just…talk to your letters. We’re here for you.”

He doesn’t look up; he doesn’t have the strength to, but he nods anyway. Of course, they can tell he’s hurting. A blind man could spot his suffering from a mile away. He hadn’t bothered to hide it outside of the Capitol.

“...Try not to stay out here too long, okay?

Annie squeezes his shoulder before walking back up the beach, leaving him alone, and he's thankful. She shouldn't have to see him like this. She shouldn't have to see him break down. 

I'm allowed to, he thinks, I'm in mourning.

But how can he mourn something he killed?

He reaches into the box one more time, pulling out a stray scrap of paper and a pen. His hands shake along with his shoulders, his handwriting so bad that only he and you would be able to understand it. He writes:

Dear Heart,

I don’t know who Finnick Odair is without his love for you.

Every day, I think I can’t possibly miss you more than I already do. And then another day passes and I prove myself wrong.

Is there a fate crueler than this?

I just want to see you again. I just want to hold you again. One last glance, one last smile, one last laugh, one last kiss. If I knew the last time I saw you would be the LAST time I saw you, I never would have blinked. I’d have made the moment last forever. But forever isn’t nearly enough, is it?

Do you think you could ever forgive me?

-I love you I love you I love you,

Finn

Present (XI) - Finnick

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL; ELEVENTH FLOOR

“I thought I’d find you here."

“Haymitch.” Finnick leans in the doorway of your room, wiping sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He wanted to stay awake and bask in the little time he had left with you, but he hadn’t slept next to you in so long and it felt like he was lured in.

“Listen,” the man rubs at his scruff, “it’s not what I came here for, but I’m happy you two figured out whatever the hell…” He trails off with a particularly constipated look, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of your room.

“...Right. Thanks.” Finnick clears his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m happy too.”

“Yeah…Anyway.” He sighs. “There've been a few last-minute adjustments to the plan.”

That wakes Finnick up, his mind running over what Haymitch has already told him to do in the arena. “Oh, should I wake Star—”

“No, no. This is just for you. We realized you’d have no way of knowing when you should be heading to the pickup point, especially since things out here can change on a dime.” He steps closer, burying his hands in his pockets. “Once all of the necessary players are gathered in the arena, a sponsor gift will be sent down, probably some kind of food. Pay attention to the district and the amount that’s sent.”

Finnick squints. “Why?”

“The district tells you the day we’re coming and the amount tells you the hour—do not get the two mixed up.” Haymitch raises a hand, staring Finnick down until he nods. 

“Alright, I won’t. And the pickup point?”

“When in doubt, Beetee will know.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s sure working behind the scenes and acting as a messenger is harrowing work, especially with Snow on such high alert. “Our girl managed to get in Peeta’s good graces. Not that I’m surprised; they probably bonded over how ‘fun’ and'rewarding' it is to help the less fortunate or something. Having her plus Beetee and Wiress will definitely give Johanna and Blight some credibility in Katniss’s eyes. You, on the other hand, are gonna need to rely on something other than your good looks and Mags.” He fishes a flash of gold out of his pocket—some kind of bracelet.  

Finnick takes it gingerly, examining how the light makes it shimmer.

“Take it into the arena as a token. Show it to her, preferably before she shoots you between the eyes. And, shit, if that doesn’t work, ask her…tell her to remember who the real enemy is.”

He wants to ask what that means outside of this very specific context; he wants to know what this bracelet means to him and Katniss if just seeing it will be enough for her to make him an ally. But he doesn’t. He feels like it’ll bring on more questions than it’ll answer.

“I’m gonna need you to hold onto something for me then.” He reaches into one of the deep pockets along his billowy pants until he feels the familiar shape against his fingers. He’s almost hesitant to give it away. When the Quell was announced, he was sure he would die with it on him. But it’s a part of you and he can’t take the chance of it getting destroyed. “It’s, um. It’s a photo she gave to me a few years back, I always carry it on me—”

“You don’t need to explain.” When it’s handed to him, Haymitch takes a moment to look at you. Finnick feels a little self-conscious of how faded it is from years of him running his fingers along your face—faded from years of being well loved. “I’ll make sure she gets back to you.” He’s careful when placing your photo in his pocket and Finnick feels relieved that there’s someone on the outside who wants to get you out of the arena just as much as he does.

“Good luck, kid.” He squeezes Finnick’s shoulder and hesitates. His eyes shift to the walkway that leads to where you’re resting. “When she wakes up, tell her…Tell her I said…” He trails off, his face severe, and Finnick understands painfully well.

“I will.” He promises. Haymitch purses his lips before giving a nod. Finnick watches his back as he leaves and wonders if that will be the last conversation he has with the man, one of his oldest friends.

Present (XI) - You 

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL; THE ARENA “Your tracker.” The Peacekeeper yanks your arm up wordlessly and waits for you to pull your sleeve back. You squint around the sharp pain as he jabs the needle into your forearm, burying the tracking device under your skin. You glare at his back and rub at your now-raised skin. 

You grip the straps of your seatbelt as the hovercraft begins its ascent.

As relayed from Haymitch to Finnick to you, Peeta brought you up as an ally, and, luckily enough, Katniss wasn't against the idea. It might have something to do with the conversation you and she had before the Chariot Rides or maybe it’s the fact that you're the only person Peeta suggested. It hadn't been your intention to get on his good side when you offered to train him, but you're glad you did. It makes your job that much easier.

“It's a very breathable, lightweight material, so I’m thinking of a humid environment, maybe tropical. Large bodies of water for certain. Have you decided on a token?" Your stylist pipes up from her seat beside you.

“Oh. Yeah.” You lift your hand to show her the blue bracelet sitting snugly on your wrist. She gasps and you pull your wrist away, looking around the carrier for anything that could be the cause of the sound. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” She waves you off with a flippant hand. “It’s just, I didn’t think I’d see you wear that bracelet again. I know Finnick never took his off, but—” You yank your arm back against your chest, holding your bracelet almost as if you can hide it.

"Wha-what..how do you, how…?”

“Us stylists confide in each other, and, well, those of us behind the scenes thought the two of you were just so cute together! I never saw you without that bracelet for five years straight and then one day, it was just gone. Poof! Oh, we were worried sick something happened with you two. But now it’s back!” She cheers, clapping her hands.

You gape at her. “You…you knew? All of you? And you never…?” Never leaked the gossip to the tabloids? To Snow?

“What? Heavens no! We're not heartless, dear. It wasn't our place. Besides,” she leans over, her crimson-painted lips pulled into a smile as she pats your thigh. Her eyes are glossy enough that you’re almost certain she’ll start crying. “You two deserve to be happy.”

You nod stiltedly, rocked by this new information. Did Finnick know? No. If either of you did, you would have been a bit nicer to your stylists. You’re quiet for the rest of the flight as she talks to you. This time around, you do try to listen to what she’s saying, nodding along at the right moments to show you’re paying attention. It’s a bit late, but you feel like you owe it to her.

She walks you down to the tube that’ll take you to the arena.

“This is it, my dear.” She sniffs, raising a hand to her mouth as she actually starts crying now. “Oh, I’m a mess. I’m sorry.” She apologizes, fanning her pale face. You don’t think about it too hard; instead, you step toward her and pull her into a tentative hug.

“It’s okay, Shimmer,” you comfort her. “And for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“It’s not okay. It’s not fair at all.” You let her squeeze you tight, allowing the hug to go on longer than you normally would. She inhales and then pulls away. She holds you by your shoulders and takes you in. “It’s been an honor working with you, my dear.”

“Same here.” You smile, but it feels more like a grimace.

You step onto the platform.

The door slides shut behind you and you start feeling sick as you rise. Sick enough that you worry you might vomit before you even make it into the arena. Your heart beats in your teeth. It’s starting to dawn on you, you realize, just how fucked you are. There’s the revolution, but there’s no guarantee you’ll even live long enough to be saved. You’ve been training like crazy, not that it was that hard with the way you grew up. It’s one thing to use your skills for physical labor; it’s another to use them in a fight to the death. That wasn’t how you survived your Games.

You hold your breath, gathering and reminding yourself of what’s important. The plan. And the plan hinges on you getting to the Cornucopia and surviving.

Your stylist tearfully waves you off as you rise, her elaborate and puffy white gown the last you see of her. You look up at the hole of light as you approach it, your nails digging into your palm.

The drastic temperature change makes you shiver and squint, raising your hand to block the blinding rays of the sun. This heat is different from the kind you’re used to. Heavier, somehow even more humid than Eleven’s muggy summers. The sun disorients you and the little wind that comes through carries the smell of salt. You push through the fog of your senses and force yourself to see.

There’s water—a shit ton of it. Saltwater if your nose is to be trusted. Shimmer was right.

The first thing you do is look for Finnick. You can’t help yourself; the need to know where he is is stronger than your need to acclimate. Your gaze bounces from tribute to tribute in your search for him. Sweat is already gathering on your brow when you finally find him. You see him, but only barely, on your left. He’s about three sections away, close enough that you make eye contact with him. It’s brief and fleeting, but long enough for your stomach to settle and your heartbeat to slow. 

You’re all divided by rocky strips of land that protrude from the island the Cornucopia rests on like the spokes of a wheel. And in between each spoke are two tributes. That would mean there are twelve sections.

Mentally, you try to map out where everyone is. You note that Finnick is standing beside Chaff.

On your immediate left is Johanna, sectioned off from you by the long line of rocks. You nod at each other and relief courses through you knowing you won’t have to search for her. Beetee stands with Cecilia in between Finnick and Johanna’s respective sections. Was this placement intentional or just luck?

With half of your group near you, your eyes rove around for the missing two and—

“Shit.” You curse. You’ll have to go looking for Wiress. That’s the first part of the plan: Johanna gets Beetee, you get Wiress, and Blight waits for the four of you away from the Cornucopia. You’re lucky to be placed next to Beetee and Johanna, but it would have been nice if Wiress was a little closer. Or within your line of sight, at least.

“Let the 75th Hunger Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor.” 

The sound of Ceasar’s cohost echoes throughout the arena and you rush to gather more information. On your immediate right is the woman from Nine, about the same distance from you as the strip of land on your left. You know she never stepped foot in the training center, so you’re confident in the fact that she isn’t a threat. A little further down are Peeta and the man from Ten. You do a double-take. You hadn’t expected him to be so close to you and you have to force yourself to ignore him. You beat back the instinct to watch him like a hawk; that isn’t your job right now—it’s Mags and Finnick’s. The next section houses Woof and Mags and beside them are Enobaria and the female morphling. That’s as far down as you can see.

Your muscles tense up when he begins the countdown. 

You take stock of your surroundings. Before you is the Cornucopia, and behind you is a beach and a deep forest—no, a jungle. The large body of water surrounding your platform looks pretty clear. Nothing but fish and plants, you’re sure. It’s doubtful they’d put anything deadly in there. Not when so many of the tributes can’t do anything more than doggy paddle. And certainly not this early into the Games. What an odd choice to have water this deep. Especially considering how rare a skill swimming is in the districts.

You watch the red, rotating cube as it flashes down to one, your muscles poised like a spring as you prepare to jump. You take a breath and dive in.

Deep in the woods behind the shack your family used to call home, there was a lake in an area the Peacekeepers seldom patrolled. That’s where your dad taught you to swim. You haven’t done it in a long time, not since before he was killed. You’re more than a little rusty and you wish you had aimed a little more to your left.

The cold water is a shock to your system, but you don’t have time to stay idle. You don’t sink to the bottom like you think you will; you’ve forgotten how much lighter water makes your body. The salt in the water burns your eyes every time you try to open them so you squint and swim towards where you think the strip of land is. It’s a battle. The distance, while a problem on its own, is nothing compared to the strength of the waves. 

You’re panting by the time you make it there, shaky fingers grappling with the wet rocks as you pull yourself up, thanking your forethought to focus on training your upper body strength. The woman from Nine had jumped in the opposite direction, aiming for the beach instead of the Cornucopia. Smart. You’d do the same, but you need a weapon and you need to find Wiress. You push your water-laden hair out of your eyes, getting your feet under you and taking off towards the Cornucopia. 

You're surprised when you make it across without slipping. You have to make the split-second decision between getting a weapon or looking for Wiress first. You glance behind you, and no one seems that adept in the water on your side. Johanna is just now clawing her way out of the waves. You guess there aren’t many reasons to swim in Seven. You make a run for the mouth of the Cornucopia with the sound of cannon fire chasing you and you hope to God that no one sets their sights on Wiress. You glance to your right, and you can blurrily make out Finnick, Katniss, and Mags helping Peeta out of the water.

You skid to a stop, your legs freezing without your actual input.

“Finnick!” You yell, and his head whips up before you fully get his name out. The water weighs his hair down, turning it a darker blond than you’re used to seeing it. You aren’t entirely sure why you called out for him. Maybe it was more for his comfort than yours; he’ll need to know that you weren’t the cause of one of the cannons firing. 

“Star!” He grasps his trident tighter, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. When he sees none, his shoulders relax but his trident remains poised in anticipation.

He looks from you to his group and back again. You shake your head to stop him from taking that step forward. It was only three hours ago that you last saw him. And before that, the two of you stayed up talking about nothing until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. Nonetheless, the desire to run to him is strong. You can see him fight that same impulse you do. When the cannon fires again, Finnick leaps into action, nodding at you with an uncertain gleam in his eyes before placing Mags on his back. 

You watch them all run for the jungle before getting your weapon. You spot a scythe propped up with spears and tridents and can tell immediately that it was planted for you. You take a second to analyze it distrustfully. A metal handle and a deeply curved blade, undoubtedly for show rather than harvesting. You won’t take it. It’s big and cumbersome, and it’ll slow you down in this kind of terrain. Plus, the strength needed to wield this in an actual fight is beyond you. Someone like Chaff or Brutus would get far more use out of it. Maybe even Finnick, if his trident ever fails him. It’ll just tire you out.

Instead, you opt for the twin sickles hanging next to it. They’re also bigger than any you’ve seen in Eleven. With their thick, smooth wooden handles, the blades are sharper than any you have ever used. Their weight will take some getting used to. When you notice more tributes orienting themselves on the rocks behind you, you decide the time for contemplation is over. 

You sprint to your left, eyes scouring the water for a small brunette woman. Wiress is on the other side of the Cornucopia, more floating in the water than swimming.

“Wiress!” You call. She waves her hands as if you can’t see her and you nod, weary of attracting unwanted attention. Luckily, she’s been in the water for so long that the waves have carried her towards the island. It doesn’t take much to pull her out.

“You, you’re hurt?” She speaks in her usually broken speech pattern, gesturing towards you, and you’re quick to look down, thinking you’ve been hurt without knowing it. When you come back with nothing, you look back at her, confused, and she gestures again. You realize it’s a question, not a statement. 

She seems tunneled in on whether you’re hurt or not. Drenched with water and frustration, you spin around in front of her. “I’m fine, Wiress, I’m fine, but we have to go.” She’s a lot more amicable now, allowing you to corral her back to where you saw Johanna last. The bodies littered around give you pause. In front of you lies a woman who is half-submerged in the pinkish water. Taking a deep breath, you step over her and drag Wiress with you.

When you get to the mouth of the Cornucopia, you spot your two allies locked in a fight. That is to say, Beetee huddles behind Johanna as she fights, clutching a spool of wire to his chest as if it were the only thing between him and certain death. Johanna and the man from Nine are locked in the most dangerous game of tug of war you’ve ever seen. They both have their hands on an axe and if this were a game of speed, she’d have him on his knees already. But he’s bigger than her, stronger too, and just as unwilling to let it go.

Her teeth are bared in exertion, legs almost buckling under the strain. He has the blade pushed alarmingly close to her neck and you don’t think about it; your body is pushed into action before you’re even aware that you’re moving. Later, you’ll think back on how easy it was. You’ll think about how quickly he stopped being a human being like you and instead became an enemy—a threat. You’ll think about it—about who he used to be before he became a body—and you will come alarmingly close to crying. For now, you kick the man in the back of the knee and he goes down with a grunt. Johanna uses the leverage the new position gives her and snatches the axe out of his hands with a huff.

You lift the sickle in your dominant hand high in the air, putting your full weight behind it as you drive the blade into the top of his head. The collision of metal against bone ricochets up your arms, leaving your muscles vibrating. He falls forward with a heavy thud and you stumble backwards. Your hands feel like they’re vibrating and the adrenaline coursing through you puts a stop to any panic before it can begin. 

You move forward and have to place your foot on his back, grunting as you use both hands to yank your weapon back out. He makes a keening sound in the back of his throat—the guttural moans of a dying animal. You’re not used to being the one on this side of the slaughter. He’s still alive, but he won’t be for long. You won’t wait for the cannon to go off. 

“Let’s go!” The four of you sprint towards the beach, glancing behind you in case the Careers decide to give chase. There are still plenty of tributes on their platforms, too scared to brave the water. They should hold their attention long enough for your group to get away. Running away as the Careers lay claim to the Cornucopia makes you feel like prey. 

“Blight!” Johanna shouts and your head whips around, searching until you find the burly man a few yards away, waving you over. You all run to him and you take another mental stock.  

Between the five of you, you have an axe, two sickles, a machete Johanna grabbed, a spool of wire, and two brilliant minds. That should be more than enough for the plan. Johanna hands the machete over to Blight and you and her share a glance before wordlessly booking it into the jungle with your charges. Blight leads and you carry the rear. 

You really hope it doesn’t take long to find Finnick.

A/N: ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ Heyyyy, are you mad at me? I hope you didn't mind that rant in the summary. I felt like Rue's death from this perspective hurt a little more bc you know it's coming, but Star doesn't, and sometimes I get carried away with writing my thoughts. ┐(シ)┌ More Finnick audios in the next chapter to make up for the shortage in this one. Come yell at me!!!

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hunger games catching fire #and they'd find us in a week #finnick fanfic #finnick odair fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick imagine #hunger games fic #finnick odair x you #the hunger games x reader #hunger games smut #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow

[luneariaa]

it's raining atm so i randomly wrote this. just thought it would feel so nice to be with nanami during times like this. (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ💛 self-indulgent.

The weather outside is quite windy; the clouds are turning grey, and the rain has fallen without a care, creating a chilly and an almost dark atmosphere outside.

You stood by the closed-up window, staring out at the rain with a peaceful expression on your face. Rain has always resonated so well with you. The combination of the natural sounds and the coldness in general just did it well for you.

Rather than having the blanket around your form, you used Nanami's coat to cover up for warmth. You just loved it, mainly because it also has his scent on it, which you absolutely are fond of.

"Why are you wearing my coat again?"

Nanami knew what exactly is the reason, yet he decided to play around a bit with you. A grin would've crossed on your beautiful features, not taking any offense even one bit.

"It's cold, and I just love your coat!"

"Of course you do." A soft sigh escapes from his lips, but then a small smile appeared.

"You can take the coat off, and let me warm you up instead."

With his suggestion, you practically let the coat that was previously on you to fall on the ground-- glomping him with a light giggle after. He couldn't suppress the smile from forming once again, carrying you onto the sofa.

Nanami holds you close within his strong arms, letting you rest your head on his chest.

"Comfortable?"

"Mmhm!" You merely hummed happily, noticing that he had covered you both up with the blanket that was placed nearby before.

The thought of him being your personal body pillow makes you so giddy even after all this time; snuggling against his muscular chest through his clothes, hugging him as tightly yet not to the point of discomfort.

"Being with you during these rainy days is like a dream.. But I'm very glad that it's real." You spoke genuinely, moving your gaze up to him. "Thank you, Kento."

"Always, my love." He whispered while tenderly stroking your hair. Nanami's face seemed to light up ever so slightly, perhaps it was because of the look on your face that was directed towards him.

"This rainy evening feels so lovely, and it's all thanks to you." He added, placing his head on your shoulder.

You giggled at his sweet words; your heart fluttering by his simple actions. "I could say the same to you, my dear."

"Hmm.." He murmured several endearing words to you, before slowly pulling you into a soft kiss, which lasted for a good few seconds.

"No one will ever replace you, sweetheart." He brushes his fingers through your hair once again, before went to cup your face with a look of complete adoration in his eyes alone.

"And I truly did mean it-- no one will ever be you, the one who managed to steal my heart with your own."

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

#jjk #jjk season 2 #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #imagine #oneshot #drabble #aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖

[shortstrawberry]

OKAY HI can I please request a oneshot of possessive Donna/mc being all fluffy and wholesome and possessive because mc finished their exams and they haven't seen each other for a while because of exam season? Please and thank you ♥️

"I'm back--oof!"

You had barely stepped into the flower shop before you were glomped by a figure clad in black. Well, someone is really happ to see you.

You knew Donna must probably be waiting for your exam to finish and you to come back, but you didn't exactly expect to be greeted this way.

You hugged Donna back, your arms encircling her waist, clutching at her black shirt. You felt the older woman's arms tightening around you in response.

"Cazzo, fuck. I missed you dolcezza. I missed you so much"

Donna nuzzled her nose against your neck, burying her face in your shoulder. God, you could almost melt in this woman's arms. She's as warm as the sunlight that shines in the greenhouse every morning.

Knowing how tough Donna is beneath her oversized clothes, you squeezed her as tight as you can. After being away from her for over two weeks, you just want to make a home inside her and never leave.

"I told you I could visit in between. But you refused!"

Donna groaned against your neck, before peppering several needy kisses against your skin there.

"I know, I know, and I regretted every single time I refused, Dolcezza. But I needed to make sure you do well in your exam."

"Why? What harm would one visit have done?"

Donna pulled back, looking down at you with a gleam in her gray eyes.

"I would never have let you go back, Dolcezza. We can't have that during your exam, right?"

Aah, yes. Its getting harder and harder for your florist to let you go back to the dorm. Hell, it's hard for you to sleep alone in your dorm bed. You miss the warmth of your broody dollmaker. You know it's only a matter of time when you yourself move into Donna's little cottage.

You reached up to kiss Donna's lips in thanks. Despite her obvious desire for you to stay around her, she would always put your studies above her. You adore just how sweet and selfless Donna is.

"Thank you for your patience. But I'm here now, and not going anywhere."

Donna pulled you closer, a slow mischievous smile coming on her full lips.

"Careful with your words, love. I might take them seriously."

You kiss her again, this time longer than before.

"I want you to take them seriously."

Donna blinked, and you swear you see tears in the corner of her beautiful eyes. You immediately cup her face in your hands, your eyes looking up at her in concern.

"Donna? What's wrong?"

The older woman shook her head to assure you, but you didn't miss the slight wobble of her lips.

"It's nothing, dolcezza."

You refuse to believe that.

"C'mon, it cannot be nothing. Tell me."

Donna's shoulders finally sagged, and her hands curled on your back.

"It's just, I thought you'd never come back. Every single day for the past two weeks, I waited in front of the door, hoping to see just a glimpse of your face. So, to finally have you back in my arms, it's a joy unlike any other. Impazzirò di gioia, dolcezza."

You wanted to remind your precious wallflower that you had texted Donna every single morning and night. But you know that isn't the same reassurance for Donna. For some reason, unless and until you're in front of Donna's eyes, she would believe that you'll leave any time.

You wonder just what makes your strong florist so insecure. But now is not the right time. Maybe sometime later, when you both are together under the same sheets.

For now, you will reassure her with words you always say to her.

"I'll come back to you. I'll always come back to you, sweetheart."

Donna pressed her lips against you, whispering on your mouth.

"Always?"

You hummed against her, letting yourself fall against the florist.

"Always."

#resident lover #donna beneviento #requests open #resident evil village #wlw #anons welcome #resident evil #possessive Donna #fluff

[honey-milk-depresso]

Hello! Could you write for either Clotted Cream or Affogato (whichever you prefer) x a reader who is highly ticklish and very cuddly? Thank you and have a lovely day :D

THANK YOU FOR CRK REQUESTS MUAH ANON <333

CRK S/o who's ticklish and very cuddly

Clotted Cream Cookie

How did you know I love him-

After acquiring this information, he's going to be a little shit about it. Sneaky little cookie...

He likes to come up from behind you and touch your tickle spots (which is probably everywhere if you try-) before greeting you politely when you turned around flustered and giggly.

Again, a little shit.

He won't hug you in public as much as in private, because he still has to maintain his image of being Consul. That doesn't mean he doesn't hug you at all.

Clotted Cream would sneak his arm around your waist while he takes you down the stairs while holding your hand as if he was escorting you like royalty.

When he's all alone with you, he just glomps you. No question. He would rub his face in yours a little bit and pepper kisses all over your face because he's a little affectionate piece of shit you love, and he's happy you hug him back and don't mind him being all cuddly with you, since you're also the same as him!

He loves you a lot, and it was definitely a big bonus that you were this cuddly AND ticklish. <3

Affogato Cookie

Clotted Cream was a little shit, then Affogato is an even bigger shit. My god. Will use this knowledge to just mess with you.

He tickles you by surprising you, especially when there's a lot of people (besides Dark Choco Cookie-), and it probably doesn't matter the setting either (well, most of the time at least).

Affogato also knows that the fur on his cape (?) gives him extra boosts of tickling you even more and would always wrap it around you.

Cuddling isn't really Affogato's thing, unless if you two a pretty close enough, and you really ask for it, he'll cuddle you in private.

He used his fluffy fur cape (?) to wrap around the both of you like a blanket, as he slowly allows himself to melt in your warmth and the fluffiness of his cape (?) blanket.

Affogato loves that you're cuddly though, since it really lifts his spirit and mood at times.

Just don't do it in front of others, otherwise he'll get all red and flustered. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

#crk #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #clotted cream cookie #clotted cream cookie x reader #affogato cookie #affogato cookie x reader #affogato x reader #clotted cream x reader #self insert #x reader #crk fluff #fluff #headcanon #x reader headcanon #x reader fluff

[vodika-vibes]

Hello lovely! Could I please request Ruby for Dogma x female reader where they both have huge crushes on each other, but are too shy to say anything; one day after Dogma comes back from a long tour and she just decides to go for it and she glomps him, kissing him on the lips over and over again while his brother's are just standing there, jealously gawking lol. I hope this inspires you and I hope that what you're coming down with doesn't last long!🌼

Take A Chance

Summary: You’ve been crushing on Dogma for, what feels like, years. But you’ve always been too nervous to actually put your feelings into words. But, after your closest friend tells you that she’s going to invite Dogma into her bed when he returns from his deployment, you decide to take a chance.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x Reader

Word Count: 852

Warnings: Some angst at the beginning, but there's a happy ending. Also, reader has a toxic friend

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I didn't follow your prompt to the letter, but I think I'm happy with this, so I hope you are too!

Anxiety twists your stomach as you lean against the flowering tree on the base that the 501st call home when they’re not deployed. 

The Resolute docked about an hour ago. It’s only a matter of time before they actually come back to the base, and that’s the thing that is making you so anxious.

Not that they’re coming back, no. 

But the fact that you’re going to see Dogma.

Kind Dogma. Handsome Dogma.

Dogma, who you’ve been crushing on for months. Who you’ve been too shy to confess to, because he might not feel the same.

Dogma, who your best friend decided that she was going to try and bed, even though she knows about your crush on him. Her argument was that since you haven’t said anything yet, then he’s free game.

You warned her that if she did this, she would lose your friendship forever. And she just didn’t care.

So that definitely isn’t helping your anxiety. It’s not like you have so many friends that you can afford to lose any of them…even bad friends are better than no friends, right?

You lift your head when you hear the familiar sound of heavy boots on the paved road, and a small smile crosses your lips when you see the 501st trekking back to their barracks.

Knowing them, most of them are going to change and hit up the bars or go and find their partners.

They deserve it.

And then there’s Dogma, talking to Tup, joking about something based on the wry grin on Tup’s face, and your heart lurches. You love him. You want to be his and him to be yours and…

And…

And you can’t do it.

Your hands curl into fists and you drop your gaze away from the man that you love so much.

He deserves…more. So much more.

You jump when a pair of boots stop in front of you, “Credit for your thoughts?”

“They’re hardly worth that much.” You reply automatically, before you lift your gaze. Dogma is standing in front of you, concern written clearly on his face, “Ah…welcome back, Dogma.”

“Thanks.” His dark eyes scan your face, “What’s wrong, you look upset.” His brow furrowed, “Did someone threaten you?”

“No. Nothing like that. Just…coming to a realization about myself, is all.”

“Wanna share?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that it upset you.”

You hesitate, “Well…” You fold your arms, “There’s a guy-” Dogma’s expression twitches slightly, but he just motions for you to continue, “And I just realized that I’m never going to be good enough for him.”

“If he thinks that then he’s a karking idiot.” Dogma replies, “You’re amazing.”

“No, he didn’t…” You hesitate, “That was me coming to that realization, not…” You sigh, “Like I said, not important.”

Dogma is quiet for a moment, “Well,” He finally says, “Since you have this…guy,” His tone is odd, but he continues before you can question it, “I guess you’re not interested in getting a drink or something with me?”

“...what?”

“Like, caf. Or maybe something else, since you don’t drink caf.” Dogma adds, and then he flashes a wry smile, “Sorry, I had a plan, but now that I’m standing here, I can’t quite remember it.”

“A plan?”

“For asking you out. On a date.” He rubs the back of his neck, “But, you just said there’s a guy, so I guess you’re not interested-”

You stare at him, blankly for a moment. And then you step into his space and press your lips against his in an awkward kiss. You pull away quickly, and Dogma stares at you, as though his brain needs a moment to reboot.

He stares at you for long enough that you shift nervously, and avert your gaze, “U-um…I shouldn’t have-”

You’re not able to finish your sentence before Dogma’s lips are hot against yours, and he has you pressed against the tree behind you. Unlike your kiss, which was hesitant and very chaste, his kiss is sure and quickly becomes passionate.

And you’re helpless but to match his intensity, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and he pins you against the tree.

There’s a loud whistle and a shout of, “Get it, Dogma!” Which causes him to break the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away, instead he presses his forehead against yours, and he raises his hand to flip off whichever brother that was.

There’s the sound of laughter, and then the audience disperses, not that you notice that, as your focus is locked on Dogma, who has all of his attention focused on you.

“So,” Dogma says as he leans in slightly, his lips hovering just over yours, “I’m the guy?”

“You’re the guy.” You agree.

Dogma exhales slowly, his breath fanning across your face, “Good.” He breathes out.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His gaze drops to your lips, “So…that date?”

“I’d like to go get some caf with you, Dogma.”

“Then I’ll go change and we can do that.” He murmurs, “But…first…” He trails off as his lips catch yours one more time. 

And, eagerly, you kiss him back.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #clone trooper dogma x reader #dogma x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[siren-serenity]

marked

characters: samuel seo, gn!reader warnings: fluff a/n: - the first time i saw samuel, i fell in love - LIKE SIR?? YOUR CHEST *drools violently* - his titties could practically feed a whole orphanage - feedback is appreciated!

His body is a canvas and he is his own masterful painter. He is his own Michelangelo, carving out the perfect immortal onto his body. Careful to never exercise too much to stretch the thousands of tattoos, careful to never do too little to shrivel up the inkwork, careful to always take care after a session, careful to always adhere to his tattoo artist's advice. Samuel Seo regards his body highly; He never fails to catch the eyes of hundreds in the average city of Seoul. (He’ll never admit it but his ego swells up in pride.)

But tonight feels...different. As his expensive car (bought and given by Eugene, of course) races down the streets, maybe the street lamps having that golden hue of light to it, made him feel slightly romantic. Maybe it was as the abnormal number of couples going on with their normal average life haunting the streets. Maybe it was the way your perfume stuck to the leather seats like glue and wafts in the air, still. The ghost of Jake’s voice (his friend) reminds him of his hypocrisy. Romance? He gave it all up in the foolishness of his youth once upon a time.

To think that he would even reminisce on the aspect of romance, to even be in a romantic relationship, sounds ironic. Yet, as Samuel takes a quick, slightly dangerous U-turn and his other hand lingers on his phone, he feels none of it.

Only love. For you.

———-

His skin feels that familiar burn again. The familiarity of the pain is nothing to Samuel. His body is already a canvas, what’s adding one more brushstroke going to do?

“Samuel?”

Your voice rolls his name around with love and care. As he reaches down to take off his loafers, he spots you dashing in the corner of his eye and straightens up just to get glomped in a hug.

“Miss me?” Samuel murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and your shampoo scent invades his sense of smell. He greedily takes it in, urging his subconscious to engrave the scent into his memories.

He feels you nod against his chest.

“You were back later than expected…I thought you-“

“Didn’t I say I would never leave?” Samuel suddenly lifts you in a bridal carry; a rare, boyish laugh escapes him as you let out a small shout of surprise. Your arms instinctively wrap loosely around his neck and your elbows thump against his chest, bouncing against his round pectorals. “It’ll take more than a couple of stupid minions to take me down.”

Your head tilts back as you let out a laugh and it rings in Samuel's head, recording it so he can play the wonderous sound over and over again like a broken record.

"Of course," You lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek and lingering there. "That's my man."

Samuel huffs, squeezing you tighter before finally laying you on the couch and kneeling between your legs. He looks up with adoring eyes and you get a good glance at his bandaged chest.

"What happened?!" You quickly unbutton his chest, eyes widened in worry. He only laughs in response, helping you slide off the article of clothing and slightly unwrapping the bandage to reveal the new tattoo.

Y/N L/N x Seo Samuel

He waits for your response with labored breaths. It was a risk to do so, an uncharacteristically impulsive decisive made late in the night. But he loved you.

"...Samuel..." You breathe out in awe. Shaking fingers lightly trace the inked skin and he shivers. Not even seconds later, you crash your lips onto his, fingers grasping onto his hair and pulling him onto you until his knees hit the couch and he is leaning over you.

He lets out a laugh between kisses but complies. His muscular arms hold onto your skin, gripping onto them to leave bruises while you lean in to tilt your head at a better angle.

"I take it that you love it?" Samuel murmurs between kisses. Your hand squeezes his narrow waist as you grin.

"Of course!"

Your hands cradle his face as if he were a precious jewel as you pepper kisses all over his face.

"I love you, Samuel Seo."

"I love you too, Y/N L/N."

#lookism #lookism x reader #samuel seo #seo seongeun #samuel x reader #samuel seo x reader #seo seongeun x reader

[igglemouse]

Well I am back and I thought of retiring this little weekly thing because I worry sometimes people think I might be 'too' nice or whatever but...WHATEVER! I enjoy helping other simblrs find more supporters and even while I might not be your biggest fan I am always your fan! Here are 5 more simblrs I'm definitely a fan of!

@pixelshary ~ The 2nd time for this simblr and really, perfect aesthetics, maximum coziness, what more is there to say!?

@108sims ~ OH! There's so many good things I could say about this simblr and while she might not be fully back to posting again I just want to show my appreciation to her and let her know how much I enjoyed her posts back in the old simblr days!

@blossom-sims ~ This is a Sims 3 simblr that I was meaning to get into before I took my little hiatus there and one of those Sims 3 gameplay simblrs that always makes me wonder if I should start a Sims 3 thing! Well, it's unlikely I'll do a Sims 3 gameplay legacy but she has one so take a peek!

@viktorviolettaenterprises ~ A CC creator that is definitely a go to when you're looking for weapons and assistance for sims that are ready to go on a dangerous mission of any kind!

@calicosimgirl ~ A gameplay sims 4 simblr currently running a not so berry save! Also a newer simblr for me and one I hope to glomp on a lot more in the near future!

February is such a great month that I couldn't miss out on it entirely and oh what is that? Valentines day around the corner? Well, wheter you have one or not I do hope you enjoy this week

#simblr appreciation sunday