#seriously though that's what he should've done

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Sugar Doesn't Taste Sweet - Lewis Hamilton

This is a much darker fic (imo) than any of the others, could be borderline like thriller romance. Because I'm ngl Lewis exudes a powerful man who hides a lot, including a dark side the public could not handle (at least that's how it's about to be in this fic).

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: He offered to be her sugar daddy and she figured what harm could it do? Lewis Hamilton is a man with more money than she could ever wish to have. She just never expected how he might use it on her.

READ THESE Themes/warnings: Abduction, tying up, psychological manipulation/breaking down, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamic initially, smut (always), literally psychopath!Lewis, sex is weaponised, not exactly a the happiest ending

No part 2 requests please - This is actually longer than I expected it to be

Y/n should've done this years ago. Ok. Maybe not years because she wasn't legal to the likes of Lewis. But she certainly wishes she'd done it earlier.

"Obviously we all know there's some sort of arrangement between Lewis and y/n. We all know it and they're not exactly subtle but maybe we should all start placing bets for how long it's going to last. I don't think it'll be long before she's not showing up in the paddock." A F1 TikToker states as y/n watches her phone and rolls her eyes.

They're right, but it doesn't change that it's annoying that they're right.

"What's that face for?" Lewis asks making her look up from her screen.

They're currently on his private jet to the next race and she's just been treated to a Birkin 30 to flaunt around the paddock. She flaunts her gifts and Lewis flaunts her. It's a beneficial dynamic for her either way.

"They're placing bets for as to when I'll not be with you anymore." Y/n sighs clicking her tongue before she smiles. "I mean I know I won't be around forever but they could at least not restrain themselves from being dicks about it."

"You'll be around long enough for them to get over it." Lewis shrugs pulling her over to straddle his lap. "They're jealous. Probably of me just as much as they are of you."

"Mmm...you think?" Y/n smiles then moving her hands down his torso as she leans in giving him a lingering kiss.

Lewis has never told her, but she really does have an addictive touch and presence. One that he's very much happy to get his hits of her as frequently as possible.

Y/n meanwhile is just enjoying having a millionaire's wife's lifestyle. Lewis is a great guy, and if he didn't come with such baggage, then maybe she'd seriously consider being in something long term with him. After all she's more than aware he's a sweetheart and a sex god and he takes good care of her. All boxes ticked. Plus there's no denying his children will be the prettiest kids ever, she'd take such pride in being in the garage as a WAG with their little kids in tow.

But reality is harsh and he does come with the baggage that gives her a headache.

Sex makes it better though.

His jet having a private cabin, though not a soundproof one, does also add to this moment being much more pleasurable.

It's an especially nice addition that Lewis is well endowed and not only that but the man was written by a woman ;). Female pleasure is at the top of his list and he gets off on it. Just that knowledge is enough to turn her on.

Hence why she's already soaked just sinking down on him, shivering at the feeling of his dick filling her beyond capacity.

"I could see you like this all day." Lewis states pushing on the bulge of himself through her stomach and taking some joy out of the sight of her eyes rolling backwards from the pleasure of the pressure of being filled.

Y/n pulls herself herself up, controlling and setting the pace while he makes sure she's taking every inch of him with each thrust. Starting to meet her part way on her way back down.

Her whimpers and clutching at him as her legs start to tremble from supporting her weight and he watchers her tummy quiver as she practically suffocates his cock with how tightly she's wrapped around him. Again pushing down on the bulge through her stomach making her actually cry out in a moan, back arching at the addition pressure mid-orgasm.

His own hand on also triggers his own orgasm the limited available space meaning it leaks out around him with nowhere else to do.

"Fucking hell." Y/n groans just exhausted. "You ever not going to leave me sore."

Lewis chuckles lightly managing to capture her in a kiss before she sighs and looks down then smiling when Lewis lifts her up off of him and begins the clean up for both of them. What a king of aftercare.

-

Y/n really made it easy to gain access to her devices, to get her login in for her apple account and see every message she sends. Lewis felt like a stalker for it but it paid off when he saw messages between her and her friend about the arrangement coming to an end.

Apparently she's saved up a lot of the money in the allowances Lewis gave her and she thinks it could keep her going for maybe even a couple years if she's smart. Not to mention she could easily sell some of the stuff he bought for her.

To say the least he doesn't think it's acceptable.

So he's not going to allow that to happen.

He asked for her to come to his place for dinner. Dates between them aren't unusual. Though it's a little unusual for him to have them at his house.

"That's a beautiful dress." Lewis smirks as he lets her in.

"Thanks. You bought it." Y/n smiles as he takes her hand raising it and getting her to spin as they walk to the dining room.

"Clearly. I have good taste." Lewis hums earning a grin before he pulls out the chair for her then tucking it as she sits.

His chef, who is under strict instructions to leave as soon as the main course is served, not even to clean up, serves them the starter earning a thank you from them both.

"So what's the occasion?" Y/n asks making Lewis look up, his dark eyes feigning innocent curiosity. "Well you've never invited me to your house for dinner before. Sex plenty of times, I've came here for a couple hours. But nothing so formal and...romantic."

"Are you saying I'm not romantic?" Lewis jokes earning a grin.

"You're romantic but it's just new." Y/n shrugs with a small smile. "Different."

"Good different."

"I'll let you know once we've finished the last course." Y/n hums which Lewis nods at.

They talk, they eat, they are served the main course. Lewis has his ears pricked for hearing the chef leave. Though y/n is too caught up talking about how she's been thinking about how they should take a trip in the next bigger gap.

"Sorry, baby. I'm just going to go to the toilet." Lewis states making her pause.

"Ok." Y/n smiles brightly looking like she realised she might've bene rambling a little.

Lewis sighs getting the cloth ready and putting on a mask. So long as he's quick and doesn't inhale any himself, he'll be safe and y/n will be his to do what he wants with.

Walking back in y/n is still just tucking in to the last of her main course.

"You know, I might be won over to this vegan diet. Your chef makes some good-"

Lewis cuts her off, the cloth doused in chloroform. He knew y/n would fight him, but even her attempt to run just allows him to knock her to the floor, already disoriented by the small amount she's inhaled. He holds the cloth over her face for a few minutes watching the tears well with the betrayal well and truly communicated to him.

She'll forgive him.

He'll make sure of it.

Eventually her body loses the fight to the toxins beating around her body, the adrenaline from her panic successfully aiding to knock her out faster.

-

Y/n coughs, feeling like her body is freezing even under what she can feel as heavy blankets covering her. She can't even begin to think about her surroundings when she shoots forward. The dinner she ate making the more ungraceful reappearance.

The splattering into a plastic bucket shocks her and her eyes open as she flinches feeling a hand rub her back. She can't move away till she's done and her stomach churns till there's nothing left there.

Then she scrambles back as the memories of what happened fill themselves in from the momentary fogginess.

"What did you do?" Y/n chokes out trying to ignore her body feeling like she's well below what temperature she should be.

"You need to calm down first. If you calm down, we can just talk. Ok?" Lewis tries to soothe but her eyes are darting around the room.

It doesn't take her long to realise that she's in a room she doesn't recognise. There's no windows and while it otherwise looks like just a normal bedroom she also can see the door is pretty heavy duty.

"Please let me go." Y/n hiccups wiping her eyes.

"You're cold."

"And whose fault is that! You drugged me! You-You-You're insane. Whatever you're doing people are going to figure it out and they're going to know! People will figure it out!" Y/n exclaims but the shouting only makes what little energy she has drain too quickly. "I trusted you."

"You'll learn to trust me again. You're better with me than without." Lewis states with a small smile.

"You're crazy." Y/n whispers curling up. "And you'll pay for this."

"You should get some more rest, it'll take a while for your body to recover and get everything out your system." Lewis states placing a heated blanket over her despite her making no attempt to comply in making it easy for him to put it around her.

He also places a kiss on her lips, and while she doesn't kiss back. He shifts leaning to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to break you and then we're going to be happy. Both of us." Lewis states making her feel her lip quiver but she refuses to let herself cry till he's gone. Even if she's certain he'll be able to watch her. "I love you."

"You wouldn't do this if you did...You didn't even ask me."

Lewis sighs standing up and leaving the room while she feels the heated blanket being annoyingly effective in working her exhaustion into taking her back into the depth of sleep.

-

Y/n really tried the hunger strike but she's not willing to kill herself to spite Lewis, she needs to keep up her strength if she's going to figure out how to get out of here.

"You look so pretty." Lewis comments watching her eat, has he has every time he's brought her food.

"You disgust me." Y/n grumbles but there's suddenly amusement in his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, finish eating." Lewis instructs earning a glare but she does as she's told. He clears the tray off to the side before smiling as he sits on the bed. "Do you know what I love about you so much?"

"That I'm so easily kidnapped?"

"That you're so easily touch-starved. You've got a high sex drive and even when you're here like this, I've watched you touch yourself for hours." Lewis comments stroking up her calve feeling her shudder under his touch. "And you're so desperate for someone else's touch, you can't even bring yourself to push me away."

Irritation spikes and she grabs his arms with some force, but she knows it's not enough to overpower him or prove him wrong.

"I could make you soak these sheets and you'd let me." Lewis states making her grit her teeth with annoyance. "Tell me I'm wrong and say no."

Y/n's might've been a sugar baby by trade with Lewis, but she is massively dependent on physical touch with a person. Even just with her friends and family she was cuddling and would hold hands with everyone just while walking through the street. Being so isolated socially and untouched physically is making her whole body beg for her to stop fighting Lewis just to accept his touch.

Her teeth grit with her internal battle, she's almost sure she'll shatter her teeth if she grinds them any harder.

Lewis brushes over the white cotton that's quickly growing damp in anticipation of his fingers. But suddenly he's gone and the ghost of his touch makes her gasp.

"What-I-"

"You need some time to think. I'm giving you that." Lewis states, though that's a lie. He has a plan and he needs to get something that is not in the room.

Y/n is frozen, her body tense and her brain glitching in the fact she really just let him do that. In fact she doesn't move until the door lock clangs and she flicks her gaze to him. Her eyes landing on leather cuffs and ropes.

"Are you going to make this difficult or easy?" Lewis questions making her blink but remain silent.

In fact she stays silent as he pulls off her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She's too stunned to speak but completely helpless to her body's urging for touch and need.

Before she knows it she's cuffed with arms above her head, her legs have been moved up spread with her knees tied so she can't move at all.

"I've missed seeing your body." Lewis comments watching her a little shaky and her pussy quivering as it almost drips under his gaze. "What if I just left you here like this?"

Lewis is going to make her beg. He's going to break her and then he's going to leave to really put the nail in the coffin.

Y/n wants to speak but her stubbornness would rather her take a chunk out her tongue from biting it so hard than speak like he wants.

"Remember how good I can make you feel?" Lewis states leaning down and kissing her exposed nipple hearing her throat making a noise from being her sealed lips. "Or do you need me to remind you."

Lewis is almost certain if he hadn't tied her up, y/n might even be trying to touch him. But she isn't instead she's shaking underneath him and keeping herself quiet.

"Say no and I'll stop." Lewis instructs looking up at her.

Y/n wouldn't dare, hell if he hadn't tied her up she thinks she might've clawed her way onto him.

Lewis doesn't move for a few moments, his fingers ghosting over her wetness and it's the final straw that makes her completely crack.

"Please! Please just touch me." Y/n cries making him smirk in victory, two fingers slip into her with ease feeling her tighten around him as if her body is begging for the physical attention. "Fuck."

"Oh baby, you want it badly." Lewis chuckles while she lets her head drop back, mainly because she can't bear the sight.

Her whimpers grow louder and louder before her back arches at just one tap at her clit. As Lewis predicted he did make her soak the she's squirting onto his hand.

Y/n pants, hardly recovered before he's pushed his dick into her.

"Please please please." Y/n whispers then crying out. Overstimulated from him and the fact she's waited so long to get this again.

"Just let it me have it all, y/n." Lewis commands making her try to pull at her hands desperate to touch him. But he's limited her ability to touch him on purpose, it's all part of his plan.

She has to not just want him but need him and he's got to push her to that.

Another orgasm triggers his own. Maybe he didn't enjoy it being such a long time either.

"No, please." Y/n whimpers when he pulls out.

"Aftercare, baby."

"I don't care." Y/n mutters but she still won't look at him.

"I do." Lewis states making her swallow thickly.

Lewis does clean her up before untying her picking her up and moving her onto the top of the drawers, noticing her grimace. Presumably a little sore since he was kind of rough.

"Don't move."

Admittedly Lewis doesn't usually change his own sheets, he has a housekeeper. But with him intending to keep y/n's captivity secret, he ends up changing sheets before moving her back onto the bed.

"I'm going to be gone for the race. But I've got to set up so you don't starve...can I trust you not to do something that means you're going to die in here while I'm gone?" Lewis asks since he knows there's a risk to giving her a fridge or airfryer is a risk.

Y/n's levels a glare shifting her jaw.

"Yes."

"Good girl."

-

Y/n really didn't think things could get worse.

Well worse to an extent. Lewis was kind enough to not leave her completely bored. Instead he's given her books to read to pass the time. Admittedly it's better than nothing.

But y/n is a social butterfly, she's an extrovert, she gets energy from being surrounded by people. She loves socialising.

Her mind can't help but wonder where she would be if she hadn't got herself into this situation.

The worst part is she really doesn't know when she might leave this room, when Lewis will trust her. She also doesn't know how he's made her feel so pathetic that she's desperate for his company and his touch when he's the whole reason behind this.

She doesn't even know what time of day it is. She has no idea how many days have past. She doesn't even know if a day has past or not.

-

Lewis got back home and sighs trying to decide if he wants to go straight to y/n or leave her for longer. He's been checking in on her and noticed that she's showered 3 times a day for over half an hour each time then used the hair dryer to dry herself off when the towels got too wet for her to keep using. She'd easily eaten 90% of the food out of boredom and it looks like she read half the books. Then she slept a significant amount.

He does decide to see her before anything else.

Walking in he finds she's actually asleep and he smiles deciding to just join her and see what happens. He pulls off most of his clothes and climbs onto the bed with her.

Instantly she jumps awake, clearly startled by the presence of another body but when she suddenly wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest.

Her body begins to shake as she cries against him.

"I missed you." Y/n hiccups actually hyperventilating latched onto him. "Please don't leave me. Please. I don't want to be left."

"I'm here now." Lewis soothes kissing the top of her head.

He's got no intentions of any freedom in the foreseeable future. Y/n is where he wants her and on hand. The only time he intends to move her is when he's figured out a way to make a room in his apartment in Monaco have equal security. Then he'll move her there. But until then, she's going to be in this room.

Maybe at some point he'll let her back out into the rest of the house.

But this is her life now, and she will get used to it. And he'll enjoy these moments of her relying on him as her means of maintaining some form of sanity.

Lewis really loves being wanted and needed like this.

Dark fic Taglist: @hiireadstuff @ellienorriss @decafmickey @daemyratwst @flowersonstreets @bethanymccauley @randomnessis-mine-me @sunf1ower16 @rylie-lothbrok @cixrosie @8justme @jehun @scopeiguess @bborra @poppyflower-22 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @igotnorrrizz @unknownmystery22 @nirrahbrii @sbella13 @d3kstar @neilakk @kawaiisadoglu @a-moment-captured @aeri101

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x y/n #dark!f1 #dark!fic #dark!lewis hamilton #lh44 x you #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 #lh44 x y/n #lh44 smut #lh44 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 2024 #formula one #mercedes amg petronas

[onleurafaitcroire]

thinking about carmy + picky eater gf a/n: i wrote this stoned bc i hate fish and i also did not edit it plz enjoy <3

he'd try to surprise her one night early on in dating by making some fancy kingfish thing on a night they're supposed to just hang out at his place, and when she walks into his apartment, she is immediately appalled by the smell of the cooking fish. she's a sweetie though so she's going to try, just for carmy, because he's sweating and the kitchen is kind of an organized mess so she knows he must have gone to a lot of trouble.

he greets her with a kiss and goes to change, leaving her to freak out about how the fuck she's supposed to fake liking seafood of all fucking things.

once carmy's plated everything and brought it out, he looks so proud of himself and so hopeful that her tentative plans to tell him she really, really cannot do seafood crash and burn in front of her, and she decides that she's just gonna have to suck it up and eat the fish. she puts a bite in her mouth, chews, swallows, and immediately gulps down a bunch of her wine to get the taste out of her mouth. of course carmy notices - he's been staring at her, actually, so eager to know if she likes his cooking - and his face immediately falls.

"you hate it." it's a statement, not a question.

her eyes widen. "no, what? no! no, it's so good, the sauce - it's delicious, carm, for real," and they're both mildly frantic now. she's taking another huge bite that makes her eyes water from how much she does not like the taste of the fish, and carmy is leaning back in his chair, looking sort of...despondent. yeah, that's the word.

"is it...i mean, seriously, you don't have to pretend to like it. if it sucks it sucks. i knew i should've done a glaze instead of the cream sauce..." now carmy's muttering to himself about the recipe, taking his own bite and frowning. "i mean, it's not that bad, is it?"

"carm, it's not bad at all, i promise, i just - i guess i never told you that i don't really...like seafood," she says, standing up to walk around the table and stand next to him, cupping his face in her palms. "the sauce is so good and i'm sure the fish is cooked perfectly, i just...i really...i hate seafood, carmen, i'm sorry, i should've told you, but i just didn't know you'd go to all this trouble, i thought it was going to be kind of a chill night and i'm just really sorry." she knows she's rambling but she can hardly get herself to stop.

carmy swings his chair forward, the front legs hitting the hardwood with a thump. "you don't like seafood? like any seafood?"

she shakes her head. "i'm sorry."

there's a pause where she thinks he might yell. then he tips his head back, out of her grip, and belly laughs. he laughs for a solid minute or two, hysterical laughter that starts to worry her after the fifteen second mark. "carm, i'm sorry, i'll make it up to you, i'll pay you back for the fish and stuff -"

that stops him cold. "okay, no," he scoffs. "i'm gonna make you some pastina or some other shit you'll actually eat and we're gonna watch the new episode of bach you kept texting me about and we're gonna have a nice night, okay? pay me back for the fish," he mutters the end under his breath, "as fuckin' if."

#carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #my writing #excuse my complete lack of knowledge about cooking i don't even know if kingfish is good or expensive #also yes carmy refers to the bachelor as bach in this universe because he's actually very invested in joey's journey this season

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (1) // finnick odair x f.reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy

the lakes previous chapter

next chapter

masterlist

7.2k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mental illness, suicidal ideations, self hate, young finnick and reader dynamics, a love triangle that was never a love triangle, smug finnick, it's so cheesey, pining, this is not a slow burn, implied soulmates, unedited, no use of y/n, allusions to trafficking, mentions of torture

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick’s been staring blankly at the hovercrafts’ walls for longer than he can imagine, since it had stopped waiting and left you for dead in the dilapidated arena. He knew if he reacted the way he wanted too they would sedate him and currently he needed to live with his guilt. He should've refused to let you go with Katniss, or have torn out your tracker himself. Most importantly he should never have told you about the rebel plan, of course he only revealed the basics on how you were to get Katniss out of the arena and go to District 13, but that could seriously jeopardize any semblance of sympathy the Capitol would have for you. 

He imagined you on the beach, devoting your life and love to him, and how before Snow broke or killed you, maybe even both, he'd never given you a proper wedding. All the traditions from back home, in a proper ceremony, with a dress would never happen. A large part of him didn't even feel like fighting the rebellion for you, since there was a probability that if the rebels one, you wouldn't be there on the other side to greet him. What was the point of a life if your future, the happiness, the children you could have had if all of this was behind you, if you were gone forever.

Plutarch begins to say something, but Finnick raises his hand as if to indicate he can't listen or speak right now. He's trying not to snap, not to take control of the ship so he can immediately perform his own rescue mission. Of course people were going to get hurt, even die, in the cause of the rebellion, but it was never supposed to be you. Why was he cursed to love someone who refused to patiently wait for him, who needed to be a part of the action? That's what had always been so magnetic about you though, the way you refused to fall into any constraints about how your life should be lived. Maybe, if you hadn't been left consumed by guilt after your first Games, you would've heard his plea and helped the rebellion from home, or he would've never told you about it at all to keep you safe. But that was wistful thinking, instead compassionate, worried, steadfast, beautiful you was in the grasp of the Capitol.

He decided he couldn't stay quiet any longer, he doesn't care if it's futile, what type of husband would leave his wife behind? For years you'd been fragile, like a bomb waiting to detonate, and he'd done whatever he could for you, he couldn't just give up on that now. You would have done it for him, you would have thrown yourself out of the hovercraft to save him, and knowing that hurt him and made him love you more. Finnick had spent years trying to prove to you that life was worth living even if you refused to admit that you felt that way, which in truth, caused him to grieve for the version of you from before the Games. The you that longed for a life that wasn't expected, to be lead by her heart and the wind, to be excited, until suddenly it was the you who didn't think she was worth being trusted, the you who stayed up wishing for death, and the you who wanted him, but felt guilty for it. Snow had taken that away from him, away from you, and now would take more from you. Finnick couldn't help but wonder how much was left to take, you had your compassion, your humor, your love, and if that was gone you'd be a husk of paranoia that he would desperately work to restore. Maybe death would have been kinder.

“Communications are down in seven, ten, and twelve. But eleven has control of transportation now, so there's hope of getting some food out." Plutarch says to Haymitch and Finnick can no longer be quiet.

"We have to go back.” His voice is hoarse, cracking with each syllable.

"I'm sorry, you know we can't do that. Her tracker was still in, they've definitely got her by now.” Plutarch tries to sound somewhat sympathetic, but it doesn't work.

“She's smart, she'll think of some way to pretend she knows less about the rebellion. If she can convince them of that, then she'll be used as bait.” Haymitch sounds so sure of himself, but Finnick isn't. You hadn't known too much, but not only were you willing to do anything if someone threatened him, you were like a glass sitting on the edge of the table, with one nudge you'd shatter.

Finnick starts shaking his head, “No, we have to-" Whatever plea he's started to make is interrupted as Katniss bangs through the door. 

“Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" Haymitch focuses on Katniss, “So it's you and your syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans." He's chuckling slightly, but only Plutarch would also want to laugh right now. “Drop it." He's forced Katniss to get rid of the syringe and sits down by Finnick, who's been infested with thoughts about how if he hadn't let Haymitch convince him of putting Katniss and Peeta first, he could've focused on you. 

They're rambling an explanation of the rebellion to Katniss and Finnick is left once again wondering if he could hijack the ship. Snow probably wants him to, expects him too. You probably don't blame him, but Finnick knows your self-destructive ways. First, you'll try to find ways to end it all, and do nothing but mourn him, then you'll start to convince yourself maybe he left you on purpose, that you weren't stable or trustworthy enough to help with the rebellion, but you still wouldn't blame him, you'd tell yourself it's what you deserved. Finnick needed to be there to intercept the doubt before you ate yourself alive. Additionally, he didn't know how long he could last without you as an anchor, his sweet girl, refusing to acknowledge her own problems while trying to keep him afloat.

“I still don't understand why Peeta and I weren't let in on the plan." Katniss is saying, her voice just as broken as Finnick's had been.

“Because when the force field blew you'd be the first ones they'd try to capture, and, the less you knew, the better.” Haymitch explains.

"The first ones? Why?”

"For the same reason the rest of us agreed to die to keep you alive.” Finnick finally chimes in although he resents the words he's saying. He should've instead let you work your magic, try to convince someone to volunteer for him ahead of time, and stayed at home with you. If he stayed there was a higher chance you would too, yet maybe you would've gone over his head and decided you still couldn't live with yourself if you didn't volunteer.

"No, Johanna tried to kill me.” Katniss argues.

"Johanna knocked you out to take out the tracker from your arm and lead Brutus and Enobaria away from you.” Haymitch is seemingly getting exhausted and annoyed from all the explanations he owes her.

“What? I don't know what you're-"

Plutarch interrupts her, “We have to save you because you're the Mockingjay, Katniss. While you live, the revolution lives."

More words are mumbled and Finnick's head buzzes, it wasn't worth fighting the revolution if he couldn't do it with you. There was no way he could stomach it without your help, there's no way you would admit to it, but you kept him from drowning.

The way Katniss hisses at Haymitch helps Finnick zone back in, “Where is Peeta?" She's finally caught on, that her survival is without the person she loves safety.

“He was picked up by the Capitol along with Johanna, Enobaria, and-" Finnick hits the table interrupting Haymitch's train of thought. No one can be outraged at him for long though because Katniss has launched herself at Haymitch, screaming, and scratching, he's screaming back and Finnick is forced to leap into action. Katniss is only doing what he so desperately has been holding back on, how dare these people not understand that you had to be saved too. Yet he's dragging her off, back to her bed, to be tied down, sedated.

“Katniss. Katniss, I'm sorry. I wanted to save all of them, but I couldn't move." Finnick whispers, he doesn't know when he started crying, but he has. When the lighting hit the tree and Katniss' arrow had flown, the burst of electricity had left him helpless, frozen on the ground when he could hear you in the distance, screaming for him. “It's better for him, they'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they can use him against you.

“Does she know too much or will she be used as bait, Finnick?" Katniss' voice is hazy in the mess of the sedation, but it's clear she's not very empathetic with her statement.

Finnick lets the tears take over him, weeping for you, how he couldn't save you. “I wish she were dead." He quietly admits, probably echoing something you'd agree with. "I wish they were all dead and we were too. It would be best.” Katniss is far gone, but Finnick can't stand his own thoughts any longer. He's basically begging to be sedated until they let him, he wants for it to stop the thoughts, leave him in a world where he's still with you. Even if you haunt his dreams. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He knew of you, from school, from the similar social scenes, and you were well liked enough, but although he'd never admit it, Finnick Odair had never been confident enough to talk to you. Maybe it's because so many people spoke highly of you, but you'd never approached him. Shamefully he was a passive admirer, watching as you laughed at parties, nursed drunk friends, charmed customers at the markets. Maybe though he was scared that the person who everyone considered genuine would reject him as a person worth being around, see him the way he saw himself.

One sunny day in the market though he decided he had to take the step, see if were really the way people described you as, and possibly put to rest the infatuation he'd had for you. One that had really sparked when one of fair-weather friends, Beckett, had mentioned how you'd basically saved his life when he was drunk by a dock after another party. Kind, but brazen especially when Beckett tried to pay back the favor the next day by walking you home. Eventually the same night he told Finnick about you, he'd left to find you at the party and your magnetic company. You just seemed to draw people to you, a charm that Finnick couldn't resist much longer.

So there you were, flashing your tooth bearing smile to every potential customer. He'd talked to plenty of pretty girls before, but usually they introduced themselves to him, and the fact he barely existed to you certainly made you more intriguing. The moment the customer you were with was gone he forced himself up to your booth, one that was full of crates with huge crabs. 

“Most of what the Capitol serves is from here anyways, so it's certainly not a downgrade." Your sweet, peachy voice spoke first and Finnick was somewhat taken aback, unintentionally sending you a quizzical look. “The crabs." You smiled, probably wondering why he didn't pick that up the first time.

“Oh, yes, of course, the crabs." He feigned interest in one, picking it up.

“You know, if you're not here for the crabs you better say something before I start listing off facts." Finnick decided he wouldn't mind that, your voice soothed his ears, but more importantly he'd been given a piece of who you were.

“Who says I'm not here to talk about crabs?" His natural playfulness shined through any persona he was scared he would have to put on if you weren't like he'd been told about, observed. For less then a second there was a flash of what must have been embarrassment in your eyes that quickly subsided with a shrug of your shoulders.

“They're caught in the-" Finnick couldn't stop himself from laughing when you diligently started on your promised list.

“No, please, you'll bore me to death. Guilty as charged, I'm not here to talk about crabs." He put down the crab he'd been holding, hands in the air.

You leaned on the counter, hands propping up your face, “Okay then, what are you here to talk about, Mr. Odair?"

“Finnick." He said almost too quickly for his liking, “Just wanted to talk to you." It was cocky the way he said it, but he couldn't help himself when you seemed so ready to bite back.

“Flattered, Finnick." You paused, like you were waiting for him to say something, “I'm working."

“And I'm a customer."

“Are you planning on buying anything?" Your hands moved from your face to the counter top.

“Maybe." He shrugged, his usual smug smile making its appearance. 

You sighed like you were defeated, but your body language said otherwise. Maybe you'd wanted to talk to him just as much, but he'd been the one holding out on you. He'd like to think that even if it was presumptuous. “So, what does the Finnick Odair want to talk to me about?”

He didn't really know what he wanted to talk about, just that he wanted to talk to you. "The party, tomorrow night, are you coming?” It was a stupid question, you were at all of them, but much to his amusement you shrugged.

"Depends.”

"Depends on what?”

“Do you want me there?" You were bold and your aura exuded that even though if he stared deep enough into your eyes he could sense it hid other feelings.

“Are you flirting with me?" He clicked his tongue, head shaking as if it wasn't what he wanted.

“No."

“I don't believe you."

“Well it's your party, your house, I'm just asking permission." Your eyes widened, feigning innocence, and he decided you were nothing in short of perfect. Maybe he was just clouded because someone finally wasn't oooo’ing or ahhhh’ing at him. Or because he'd admired you from afar for so long that anything you said would be enough to draw him in. He also didn't really care because he'd made up his mind about liking your presence, more than that off any of his fickle friends.

“You've never asked permission before." The look on your face told him he'd caught you, that was your brain racking for a response before your face could slip back into its soft smile.

“You've never talked to me before." Maybe your words were even, but the way you fiddled with your necklace spoke measures to him.

“So you just show up at the houses of men you've never talked too?" Finnick teased, but he knew you'd always had plenty of invites from other people unlike the crazy fans who'd try to push their way into his home. Regardless, the parties were a way for him to keep up Capitol appearances and drown out his sorrows, so extra guests with actual connections to his social group hardly bothered him.

“If you wanted to talk to tell me it feels like I'm intruding, then you can just come out and say it. I get it and I won't go." You maintained a somewhat playful sound, but were so genuine it shocked him. So willing to give up your entire social scene if it made him slightly uncomfortable.

“No, I do want you there." He felt like he said it much too quickly, but he didn't regret it when your smile widened.

“Okay." You bit your bottom lip when another presence was ducking into the booth beside you. The local healer who whispered something to you. “You know you can have as many as you want for it, we can't thank you enough." You said earnestly. He handed you a couple of bottles of some type of medicine that you shoved into a netted bag before grabbing him a smaller box.

“Four or five?" The man said quietly and you filled the box with crabs before handing it to him. “Thank you, now you tell your mom I wished her the best and let me know how she's doing."

“Will do." You smiled as the man scurried off. “Sorry about that." Your attention was back on Finnick.

“Is your mom not well?" It was an obvious question but he wanted to show he cared, you just waved your hand in dismissal.

“She's okay, don't worry about it." So he respected the fact you didn't feel like opening up about it and moved onto playful banter again. “If you want me there and already knew I'd be there, why are you talking to me now?" You led the conversation back and it was obvious to him that it was a sore subject, perhaps you were one of those people who didn't like to trouble others with their problems. 

“I can't talk to a pretty girl?” 

"You talk to pretty girls all the time, Finnick Odair, and you've never talked to me before.” Your hands settled back up to support your face. 

He leaned in closer, “Don't tell anyone, but maybe I needed to hype myself up before I talked to the prettiest one." Your laugh was addictive and he wished he could've seen more of how your face scrunched up when you buried it in your hands. 

“God, you're treacherous." One of your hands decided to nervously play with an earring and the other went back to the necklace. “I bet that's what you tell all the pretty girls." Finnick's ears were blessed with another nervous laugh.

“Just you." He winked, grateful that he'd found an easy rhythm in talking to you. You were teasable, but would bite back, for the first time in a while he was glad he trusted his observations.

“You know flirting with the girl at the market to get free food only works for people not famous all across Panem."

“Good thing that's not why I'm flirting with the girl at the market then." 

Your face was once again buried in your hands with a giggle, "You're dreadful. Is this how you usually entrap a girl, don't speak to her, and then it's all sweet talk?” 

Finnick wished he could say it's because seeing you around gave him unexplainable butterflies deep within his stomach, but that wasn't a very suave explanation. “I had to make sure you didn't have a boyfriend first.” His voice was low and he could tell it was giving you goosebumps, or maybe you were just cold in your sundress.

"Oh, you're bold." You guffawed, “Besides you already have a hole in your story, there isn't a single person anyone would think I'm dating.”

"That's a bold-faced lie, sweet girl, most people think you do since he's always trailing around like a lost puppy.” If he was lucky you would melt at the pet name and you somewhat did before you scoffed.

"Who?" You didn't seem like the oblivious type, but so earnestly confused.

Finnick's eyes dragged over to a nearby booth where the subject stood, sulking and your eyes followed, “Looks like he might attack."

“Conway?" You shook your head so earnestly it made Finnick feel like he could blush from how ardently you wanted him to know you weren't taken. “No, no, no, no! God, no, he's just my friend. We're friends.”

"Have you told him that?” He smirked.

You were so cute, when you were biting back, when you were nervous, when you were embarrassed, he didn't know how a person could manage to be so adorable all the time. “Yes, he knows that, he's just, well he's just Conway. It's just a phase, he'll grow out of it." You rubbed your neck as a much more forced laugh escaped those perfect lips.

“Hopefully, looks like he's coming over to rip my throat out. Please come to my funeral, front row, no roses on the coffin, lilies preferably." Finnick pulled a faux terrified face as he clasped his hands together with his plea, successfully turning your laugh into a much more genuine one.

“Hi, Princess." Conway approached the booth and Finnick wondered how you could ever think he was getting over you. Behind the brunette's back he shot you a look, teasing you for as much which you seemed to instantly understand as you bit your lip with a shrug.

"Hey, Conway. You guys finished up?" You asked, that dazzling smile on your face.

“Yeah, mom was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight? Nixie and Delta had something they were excited to show you.” 

“Yes of course! Tell them I have something for them too, and I'll meet you guys after I've dropped everything off at home."

“I'll walk you."

“I'm gonna walk her home." Finnick seized the opportunity, even if you said you were just friends he couldn't let himself lose the build up he was working for. Conway looked at him like he'd forgotten he was there and was angered to have remembered. “If you want me to, do you want me to?" Finnick looked back at you and you genuinely had a look of complete confusion.

"I always walk you home.” Conway said softly and Finnick wished he felt worse for interfering with another person's love, but he couldn't help that he felt a spark just by looking at you and fireworks in your presence.

"You wanna walk me home?” Your eyes were glued on Finnick, like you thought he'd just been bored and was going to leave after finding his enjoyment in flirting with you. He wanted to get inside your head, see why you were so vulnerable, prove to you that you deserved to feel better about yourself.

"Of course I do, sweet girl.” His voice was less focused on being charming and so earnest it rewarded him with the happiest, biggest smile he'd gotten out of you.

“I'll walk you home after dinner though, that way you're not walking home alone in the dark." Conway inserted himself once again and after a pause you shook yourself out of whatever haze you were in to turn to him.

“Thank you so much, you're so kind, Conway. Either way I still have to wait until everything closes or I sell out, so it could be a while."

“Oh, mom sent me over to buy the last half crate for dinner tomorrow,we've got some extra wiggle room, and we're all tired of trout and crawfish all the time. So a little something special until I'm sure we'll all get tired of the leftovers. Do you want to come tomorrow too?" He pulled out the money from his pocket to slip into your hand.

“Lucky you, I hope you all enjoy it!" You took the money to put into the small metal box where you must have been storing the cash. “I've got plans tomorrow or else I definitely would." You picked up a box to move the crabs into.

“Is there a party? You should've told me, mom won't want me to miss tomorrow and you'll have no one with you."

“Conway, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don't need to be watched over. I'm perfectly capable of myself." You handed him the crate, “Besides you hate going to them and I don't want to drag you to one just for you to mope in the corner."

“And I'll be there anyways." Finnick raised his hand as if to remind everyone he was still there and you did seem to soften when you looked at him.

“Yeah, Finnick, will be there. I'll be fine!" 

Conway took a step closer to you as he filled his box, trying to whisper, but it wasn't hard for Finnick to eavesdrop. "You barely know him.” 

You glared back at Conway and mouthed a ‘Stop it!" The much taller man seemed to reluctantly relent as he stepped away. “I just have to close everything up then, and I'll be ready to go." You look back at Finnick who nods and smiles.

“Let me help you."

“Oh no, you don't have to do that!" You quickly assure.

"Angel, I want to.” You seem to respond well to that pet name as well whereas Conway is instantly glaring into Finnick's head. He doesn't mean to be cocky, but Finnick can't resist a cocky shrug to the other man the moment you're going to retrieve your bag and the little metal container of money to shove into it. Finnick’s nimble fingers are quickly undoing the ropes holding the top up.

You exit the structure and walk up to him, “How'd you do that so fast, the knots always take me forever to undo."

Finnick can't hide his amusement with your awe,"Always been good with knots, I could show you sometime.” 

You're nodding in agreement when suddenly your mouth is agape and you're playfully shoving him, “Finnick Odair, I hardly know you!"

“That's not what I meant, honestly!" He defends, laughing, and he's being truthful. It hadn't crossed his mind when he said it, he would love to show you how to tie a rope, he'd always found it calming. “Says a lot that your mind jumped to that though." He tilts his head and the way your eyes widen makes him wish he could feel how hot your face must be by now. 

“You do barely know him." Conway mutters and Finnick wishes he would disappear.

You seem to regain your composure and point to the left, “I'm about 30 minutes that way, so you really don't have to walk me home if you don't want to, it's long."

“Stop worrying about me, I'm certain I want to walk you home."

You're nodding softly and biting your bottom lip, "Okay.” Swiftly you're leading the way, both men trailing behind and Finnick is annoyed that Conway is still sticking around, before he realizes his family's booth is in that direction. Suddenly you're stopping before basically leaping towards a booth, a fruit booth Finnick recognizes. “Douglas, you have peaches! Why didn't you say anything?"

The older man chuckles and gives you a knowing look, “Because you can't afford them and will barter me for them."

You gasp in mock offense, “So rude and after all this time too, Mrs. Damaris would be astounded by your behavior.” 

"You know if you sneak me a couple of crabs tomorrow I'd give you a whole bag.” 

"Your father would be angry-” Conway begins some sort of lecture when you're snapping at him like you'd also like to be rid of his presence.

"I know, Conway.” The look you shoot at him could kill, and Finnick feels a weird sense of elation knowing you're more peeved that Conway won't let you be alone with Finnick. 

“Then I'm sorry, sweetheart, nothing's going to work on me this time. I've prepared myself."

Finnick is already pulling out his money, “It's okay, I've got it."

“No." Your resistance shocks him, he's used to people begging to be around his wealth and to charm you he's more than willing to she'll it out. “You're not buying things for me, Finnick. I'm serious." He says nothing, but doesn't return his money back to his pocket. 

“Come on, princess, you'll live without one." Conway manages to still sound so kind and you purse your lips, refusing to satisfy the man you feel pestered by with a response. Finnick is busy trying to silently communicate with the vendor that whatever you try to barter he'll give him the money right after.

“My ring?" You hold up your hand, waving the finger around and the older man shakes his head.

“I can't accept every piece of jewelry you find on the beach."

You sigh dramatically and Finnick thinks he's finally been able to indicate to the vendor. “Mrs. Damaris would love this necklace, look it's got an actual ruby in it and I didn't find it. Someone gave it to me, it's worth a lot more than a peach and I only want one.” The man reluctantly exhales, glasses at the end of his nose, “Please Douglas, we barely ever get them here.” Your pout has to make you even more adorable and Finnick wonders how you can be so perfect.

“Fine!" The man grumbles with a sly smile and Finnick can tell the man would've taken the necklace even without the money he was about to give.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You gush as your fingers rush, struggling as you unclasp the necklace. Putting the necklace on the counter as the man hums. You take your time picking out the perfect peach before grabbing one, “I love you so much, Douglas, Mrs. Damaris is a lucky woman!" You began to walk off.

Douglas nods, “Sure she is, take care of yourself and bring some actual money next time." The moment your back is turned Finnick is putting the money on the table, with a little extra.

“Thank you." He mouths with a smile, grabbing the necklace.

“No, thank you. I've got no use for the necklace, or anything else she's given." The old man is shaking his head with a smile, grabbing the money. “You take care."

Finnick nods, catching up to you where he can hear another tense conversation between you and Conway. “God Conway, it doesn't matter. Tallulah gets me a gift every time I take care of her during a hangover because she feels bad, it doesn't matter. Yes it was pretty and I really liked it, but I'll tell her it fell off in the ocean and she'll buy me a new one.”

"You're just so careless sometimes, it's a fruit.” Conway shakes his head in disbelief.

"And it's just a necklace, what's your problem? It's not even from you, and it's not a big deal. I liked it, I'll probably miss it, but I might not have a peach for another year and Tallulah will have given me another gift by the end of the week for the hangover she'll definitely have from tomorrow night.”

"She's not a bank for you, and that trade was so uneven.”

"Why are you trying to make me feel guilty? That's not how I see her, I've been her friend for years and it's just how we work! You're being so weird about this and it's none of your business. I don't take her money, or ask for it, or let her pay for things, she just gives me them when I help her out!” Finnick finds himself being enraged at Conway for the way your voice shakes as you defend yourself, for the way he's making you seem selfish when you adamantly refused to let Finnick buy you something as small as a piece of fruit.

Finnick is suddenly standing beside you holding up the little heart necklace, it swinging in front of your face. You stop dead in your tracks, “Finnick." Your voice is so soft it makes him want to melt, "You don't even know me, Finnick. I don't need you to buy things for me, you don't have to do that. I traded it for a reason, go give it back.”

"He's much happier with the money, anyways, sweet girl. I have enough money to drown in, you're hardly breaking the bank with a peach. And I know you enough to want to do that for you. Can't a man buy things for a pretty girl?” You look like you might cry, but you don't allow yourself too and Finnick comes to the conclusion that you're not used to being helped, to have someone willing to just do things for you without some sort of transaction involved, and he's intent on changing that. "Red looks good on you, angel, let me put it back on you.” You're playing with your earrings as you finally slowly turn to let him clasp the necklace on. He adored the way you shiver when his fingers brush against your neck as he puts it on and the way you seem to miss his touch the moment it's gone. It's like fate designed the two of you to meet each other, to be perfect for one another and he's only just forced himself to talk to you.

He also gets a sick pleasure from how vexed it makes the other man vying for your affections. Within a few more steps you've arrived at the Delmare family booth and they're ecstatic to see you before they've calmed down. “I'll see you tonight?" Conway asks.

“Yes, of course." You offer a smile even though Finnick can tell you're still seething underneath and Conway nods somewhat sadly. You turn you back to him as keep walking, “So are you-"

“Yes, I'm sure I want to walk you home!" Finnick interrupts with a laugh and you accept the answer and finally begin to eat your peach.  “Let me take your bag." He offers, hand reaching for it.

"It's okay I've got it.” You must have decided you're able to slip back into your normal playful tone, and he curses Conway in his mind for making you anxious enough to ever stop in the first place, “I know you must be used to women throwing themselves at your feet, but we are in fact strong enough to carry our own bags."

“You have an indent in your shoulder from it." He remarks, with what he's sure must be an infuriatingly smug smirk. You don't look at him as you seem to reason in your head that it is quite heavy and slowly pry it off your shoulder. He's grabbing it from your hand before you're even reaching out and although it's nothing for him, he's surprised by the weight. “Good thing I want to carry your bag even if you're a woman throwing yourself at my feet." He clicks his tongue as the two of you stroll down the cobblestone street.

You elbow him softly, “I'd say you're throwing yourself at mine." 

“I'd agree and say I'm glad I am." 

“Finnick." Your voice is suddenly much more serious.

“Yes, angel?"

“Seriously, why are you talking to me?" He assumes you must be trying to protect yourself and it hurts him to think you'd ever imagine that his intentions were anything less than true. 

“Because I like you."

You laugh so delicately it could be carried into the breeze, “No you don't! We've never talked before, I mean you don't really know me at all."

“So you don't like me?" He teases, a glimmer in his eyes.

“No, I do, I mean, I just, that's different." You stutter through it, hands moving as you speak.

“How's it different?"

“Because you're you, you're Finnick Odair, everyone likes you and if they don't they're stupid. And I'm just, I mean I'm just some girl, who you've been trying to fluster."

“People talk about you too, I see you around, listen to you, what you say, what people say about you, and I've decided that I like you. And I think that if you didn't want to be flustered, you'd tell me. That's it, that's the explanation, and I'm talking to you so I can really know you.”

There's a silence where you must be deciding if you're satisfied with his answer, "What do you want to know about me?” The walk to your house seems to go by too fast with the stories and banter, the way you sass him back and then get ruffled when he makes flirty remarks before you make them back, and the way you savor each bite of that peach like you'll never have one again, which he'll make sure you will. He's already mourning your company when you're walking up to the door, “This is me, I know, it's not much to look at." It's a dilapidated little house, cracked, white brick and he can tell it used to be nice. You're slowly walking up to the door and he hopes you feel the same way he does.

"Go out with me tomorrow.” Finnick says abruptly.

"What?” You turn to him, trying to not act as giddy as he can tell you are.

"Tomorrow, just you and me, an actual date. It's a Sunday, so the market will be closed. We can picnic by the water, there's a lovely, private piece of beach in Victor's Village and we'll swim, we can do whatever else you want too.” He tries to sound nonchalant as he runs his hands through his hair.

"Okay.” You nodded, fingers running up and down the chain on your necklace. "Yes, I'd like that.”

"Okay, good, that's good.” He doesn't mean to seem desperate for your time, but he is. “I can be here at noon? I'll walk you." 

“Yeah." You muttered, by now you're both standing at your front door. Staring at him and he prays you'll never go inside and just stand here with him. “My bag."

“Sorry, yes, your bag!" He pulls it off his shoulder and feels more embarrassed than he ought to be, “Sorry!" But you just laugh it off as he hands it to you. 

"It's okay.” You're back is to the door, slowly pushing the handle. He wants to kiss you, but he's already moving so fast with everything else, he figures that he better let you have something to wait for even if it's disappointing to you know, it disappoints him too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, at 12.” He reiterates, feeling like a magnet being pushed away from his other half as he steps away, ready to fly back forward.

You do look somewhat let down as he moves away, but he has to be resilient,"Thank you, Finnick! Have a good night.”

"Have a good night, sweet girl!” He flashes his Panem adored smile and forces himself to turn his back towards you. Finnick decides he's glad he listened to the caverns of his soul when they called him to you. He can't help himself from being so forward with you when he's already so sure, like he's been with no one before, that you must be meant to be and he's running back to the marketplace praying that Douglas hadn't yet closed down shop.

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Doctors occasionally hover above him and the ceiling is white, which is all he knows when he's in his sedated state. Sometimes they let him be without, but he can't process their questions, not when he's thinking of you which sometimes leads him back to being sedated when he starts lashing out at the nurses and doctors. Screaming, insisting you need to be saved. He's not sure when he asked, but at some point they give him a piece of rope which he diligently ties knots in to calm himself. It always seemed to work until he thought about how hard he tried to help you master different knots, but your hands would fumble. At some point he'd become sure that you did it on purpose so that his fingers would be by yours and his back pressed up against you, but he didn't care, it was heartwarming. Then he would fly into a fit again.

The same thing had happened when they'd brought him some type of dry oatmeal usually with a mix of berries that made it barely tolerable, once he could've sworn he caught a whiff of peaches in it that had him desperately trying to inhale the scent. Sobbing over the bowl until his nose was so stuffed he could no longer smell it, smell you and the sobbing became too uncontrollable. The doctors couldn't calm him down and he was once again sedated.

For weeks that's all his life was. Haunted by you, what could be happening to you, all the things he missed about you and trying to stay calm enough that he wasn't being restrained or returned to a cloudy state. Although the sedation sometimes brought back good memories he could dissociate into, other times all he could picture were all the things the Capitol, that Snow could be doing to you.

What if you were still being sold off like some kind of doll on top of what you were having to endure. And you'd have no one to comfort you at the end of the day which would drive you to insanity. Or he could picture you hypothermic on the floor. Or being taunted with jabberjays screaming in his voice. Or it could be a violent torture. He could picture thousands of unpleasant things that made him wish the rope was long enough to be a noose.

Sometimes he'd picture the last time he saw you, begging with him to not be upset when you parted ways with Katniss' insistence. Each time he thought about it he'd come to a different conclusion. Most of the time he blamed himself for letting you go, for not fighting harder to stay together or not tearing out your tracker right before you left even if it alerted someone of the plan. Sometimes he'd blame Katniss for forcing your hand in the first place, why couldn't she have just followed the plan that had been so carefully structured out. And on a rare occasion he blamed you for trying to follow the objective of keeping Katniss safe and leaving him, for not remembering to take out the tracker, for not keeping your promise. Which would then make him sick with himself for thinking anything slightly negative about your actions when you were probably enduring unbearable lengths of pain for him, for the rebellion. 

On the lucky occasion where he wasn't heavily sedated he'd been anxiously tying small knots into the rope when the television began playing some mandated report from the Capitol and there was Peeta. Proclaiming how he and Katniss knew nothing about the rebel plan, that Katniss had coincidentally shot her arrow into the dome when the lighting struck, and how there needed to be a ceasefire. Finnick wished he hadn't told you about the rebel plan, that you would just be bait, not someone trying to hide that they had some semblance of information regarding the rebel plan to get out of the arena. He'd signed your death warrant and delivered it straight into the Capitol's cold hands.

Finnick got swept up in his thoughts of what he could've done differently, how much he despised himself for not doing so when suddenly it was your voice on that television screen.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

so exited to start the river with you guys and to explore reader and finnick's past more. thank you all so much for the endless support and for continuing to read my little series, ily all. as always reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated, and my ask box plus request are open even if they take a hot second more me to get through. again endless thanks to you all and love you 💋

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[biblio-smia]

so bitter!

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pairing: clapton davis x reader

warnings: nsfw content!!!

there should be a law against wearing tank tops in school. actually, there was - just one that only applied to girls.

which meant that clapton davis could walk around with his arms looking like that.

you were staring from two cafeteria tables away, eyes unable to stay off clapton for longer than a few seconds. your self-control was being tested, this torture a punishment from the universe.

you really should've never let him fuck you.

you don't realize your name is being called until your friend is snapping her fingers in your face, forcing your eyes to snap back to her (though you keep the distant outline of clapton, just to the left of her head, in your peripheral).

"huh?" you ask, willing your eyes not to flicker back - there was still a chance for you to dig yourself out of this without any of your friends ever knowing.

"nevermind," your friend sighs, rolling her eyes before giving you a look that you avoid by picking at the food on your tray. "who were you staring at?" she turns around, searching the cafeteria for a mere hint of the person who had captivated your attention.

"i wasn't staring at anyone," you lie smoothly, shoving a spoonful of whatever's on your tray to mask any strange inflections of your voice. "i just spaced out."

"you've been doing that a lot lately," your friend says, clearly not convinced.

you roll your eyes in response, grateful when your other friend finally escapes the lunch line and rejoins your group, the topic quickly switching over to an upcoming calc quiz.

though talking about calc makes you think of the time clapton made a very impressive 14% on his test, presenting the paper to you with a grin that should've indicated something at least higher than a C.

"seriously, our class average would be, like, 20% higher if it weren't for you," you cross your arms with a small huff, warm breath making a small cloud in the cold air. clapton skates slowly beside you, weaving around without even having to look at the road under or in front of him - no, his eyes won't leave you.

clapton just grins again. he loves seeing you get worked up about the things he does, the concern you have for him presenting itself in indirect ways that make clapton's heart ache for more.

he's beginning to guide his skateboard to the right, in the opposite direction you'll be going, ready to wave goodbye, when you stop.

"what are you doing?" clapton doesn't think your crossed arms are just to protect yourself against the cold.

"going... home?" clapton sounds confused, but his heart is starting to pick up at the increasing possibility of an alternative suggestion.

"to do what? not study, i'm sure. you just don't learn your lesson, clapton."

clapton holds his bottom lip tightly between his teeth, though it's not enough to contain his smile. "maybe i need a better teacher?"

your eyes roll but your lips smile. you turn your back to clapton, starting off in the direction of your house, smiling as you hear the sound of wheels rolling against the road following behind you.

you get about ten minutes of studying done before you're in clapton's lap, one of his hands under your shirt and the other creating a nasty crease at the bottom of his forgotten calc test as clapton holds on tightly to the edge of your desk for balance.

where did that test go? you remember clapton's hand slipping, knocking a few things on your desk over as he steadied you, removing his hold on you to take off the shirt he had been wearing-

you cross your legs, heat in your face as you will those memories away. there's a heat on your back as your body remembers how clapton had touched you that night. you check your friends carefully, watching them engage in an intense conversation about whether or not they could've pulled stu macher, before allowing your eyes to glance around the cafeteria casually, hoping to catch at least one more glimpse of clapton while avoiding getting caught.

your eyes pass over his spot once, twice, before the fact that he is gone settles in. an alarm in your head goes off - clapton from a distance is safe, but on the move, location unknown? clapton is unpredictable.

you're busy scanning the cafeteria for that obnoxious teal shirt, too focused on making sure clapton davis is a safe distance away to notice your friends go quiet, looking over at the boy who'd taken a seat beside you.

"hey," that stupidly smooth voice says and your eyes calmly shift to land on clapton. you're careful not to visibly react - you can hear your friends already. "you and clapton?" you could see the looks they'd give you, purely out of concern. because really, when has clapton davis ever been serious about anything? you weren't sure that'd suddenly change for you.

it's too quiet, clapton's head moving curiously closer, more of his face coming into your line of sight. your eyes betray you, landing on his flexed arm that rests on the cafeteria table and you're up, rolling your eyes and huffing as you usually do at clapton - though this time he feels it more personally, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk away. usually he does something to deserve this, winding you up on purpose more often than not. but clapton is feeling as clueless as he feels in chemistry, left dumbfounded by your avoidance of him. had he done something?

guilt eats you up immediately, merciless as it twists your stomach into knots. you sit in the bathroom, on a closed toilet seat, loud chattering all around you as you stare at your IMs with clapton.

your fingers type and delete, type and delete. god, whatever. the bell rings and you bite down that sick feeling, deciding you'll apologize to clapton when you inevitably see him in the hall.

of course, you chicken out. you can't even look at clapton, much less talk to him, a voice in the back of your head convincing you you'll slam him against the lockers and make out with him right there, in front of everyone. it was probably telling you the truth, anyway, your desire to get your hands on clapton outweighing any rational thoughts that included public decency. god, what was wrong with you?

so you avoid clapton in the halls. and in class. and walking out of class. and walking out of school. you're almost running home, knowing clapton could easily catch up and confront you right there. there was really no telling what you were capable of with him in that stupid fucking shirt.

though you still feel sorry. you conjure up images of what clapton could've looked like as you blatantly ignored him and in each one, he looks heartbroken.

well, it wasn't like you were dating.

though maybe a small part of you wished you were.

clapton continues to bother you as the sun sets and the moon takes its place. he won't let you concentrate on the essay due next monday or on the chemistry lab you had to write a reflection on. everything reminds you of him, from the neon green bracelet of his he's left on your desk to the book he'd flipped through while sitting in the chair you're currently occupying, feet propped up on your desk as if your space was also his. and it was, in a way. even your bed has been tainted permanently with bits of clapton, no amount of laundry able to rid your sheets of clapton davis's signature scent. there's small marks in the wood of your headboard, too, just to make sure you wouldn't be able to trick yourself into forgetting clapton had ever been in your room (and on top of you).

you give up on work, brushing your teeth and saying goodnight to your parents unusually early, hoping you'll fall asleep quickly and forget all about clapton. but something won't let you sleep and the lack of distractions only makes you think of clapton even more.

you'd really like to pull your hair out. angrily, you reach for your phone, hit on clapton's stupid picture, start punching the small buttons on your phone repeatedly until a message sends before you can even deliberate.

come over. - 11:39 p.m

read. almost instantly. no response. you're not sure if this means clapton will be here in a few minutes or not, though you're not really sure you can blame him if he ignores you like you had ignored him.

but then your phone buzzes and a new message alert has appeared.

outside - 11:43 p.m

you hear footsteps outside and you instinctively shove your phone under your pillow, turning over and pretending to be asleep as the door of your room creaks open, only for a moment, closing again when your parent is satisfied with what they see.

you wait until the footsteps recede, envisioning the route from your room to your parents', quietly counting the seconds until you're sure it's safe.

shit prnts r still awake - 11:45 p.m wait? - 11:45 p.m

sure - 11:45 p.m

the thought of clapton only a few feet away, separated only by a wall and a window, excites you, heart racing as you wait 5 minutes, 10, calculating how long it'd realistically take your parents to fully fall asleep. you're trying to be patient but you really can't wait another minute and you can't imagine how clapton has managed it.

ok - 12:02 a.m

you don't even wait for clapton to read the message, jumping out of bed to open the window and push the screen loose, wiggling it out of place and sticking your head out, searching the dark night for clapton.

he makes an appearance as he rises from his seat against the side of your house, letting you help him as he gets one leg over your windowsill, one of his hands resting on it while another hangs onto yours for support. he swings his other leg in, jumping softly into your room and softly shutting the now-screenless window behind him.

and there he is again, in a black graphic muscle tee and sweatpants, thoroughly distracting you without even meaning to. at least, you assumed he didn't mean to.

clapton turns back to you and you wonder how he's grinning after the way you'd treated him at school, after you'd made him wait outside for seventeen minutes with no guarantees of sex.

and that's when you realize that's what you like about clapton - even now, after you demanded he come over at midnight, after you have had sex in this room more than a handful of times, clapton expects nothing. he does not think he has a right to your body, does not move to touch or kiss you, does not assume anything. he simply stands there, still smiling, waiting, quietly wondering what it is you needed him here for.

you'd really like to kiss him, but you're worried it'll come out softer than you usually kiss clapton.

instead, you hug him.

you've never done that before. but clapton's arms wrap around you naturally, letting you slot against him with a sigh. clapton is uncharacteristically quiet, though you can tell he still doesn't expect anything from you. and that makes you feel even worse.

"i'm sorry," you mumble, shame hot on your face.

"what's that?"

"i'm sorry," you repeat, pulling away from clapton, not realizing he heard you perfectly fine the first time until you see that stupid smile on his face. you frown, hit his unbelievably hard arm. "i'm serious."

"yeah, i bet," clapton jokes, though his smile begins to fade when your eyes start to get angry. "it's fine," he shrugs, hoping to cheer you up before your mood dips to a point of no return.

"it's not." your arms are crossed again, though this time clapton tries to determine how much frustration is directed at him and how much is reserved for yourself.

clapton is close to panicking, pulling your arms apart and quietly willing you not to be upset, realizing he only has a few more chances for his jokes to cheer you up until they will eventually have the opposite effect. "you think i'd lie to you?" he grins easily, still holding on lightly to your wrists, giving you a chance to step out of his grasp if you'd like to.

you wouldn't like to.

you're trying not to get frustrated (or rather, not take it out on clapton, again), exhaling deeply and swinging your arms, still lightly linked with clapton's.

"you'd probably lie to me for five dollars."

clapton scoffs, offended. "five? it'd at least have to be ten."

finally, you crack a smile and a weight on clapton's shoulders lifts.

"wow," you say dryly. "i didn't know i meant that much to you," you laugh through your words, clearly joking.

but now clapton is strangely serious, a side that you've never seen before almost scaring you, clapton's voice so quiet you almost convince yourself you've imagined it all.

"you do."

you're not sure who leaned in first (honestly, probably, you), but your lips are on clapton's and your hands are in his dark curls like you've done too many times before. you're too scared to kiss him softly like you've been dying to, to take your time with him like you've imagined over and over. your pace steadily increases, hands lightly tugging on clapton's hair, his hands slipping in and out of the bottom of your shirt. you can tell he's trying not to make noise by the way his breath catches in his throat when you pull off, breathing heavily. you stare at each other for too long - you finally allow yourself to indulge in what's been on display the entire day, your hands letting clapton know exactly what's been on your mind today.

clapton almost laughs as your hands run up and down his arms, cheeky smile as he flexes underneath your touch. he knew it - he could feel the heat of your stare from across the cafeteria though he'd never been quick enough to catch you.

clapton is about to crack another joke, to tease you about your staring problem, when your mouth is on his again, shutting him up before he could even begin to speak. your kiss is rougher this time, hands balling up the fabric of clapton's airy shirt, until clapton decides he's had enough and pulls away to strip himself of the black-dyed cotton. he pulls you onto your bed, sitting up against your fluffy pillows.

he watches, hungrily now, as you settle into his lap, his breath coming out raspy as you immediately attach yourself to his neck, making marks that might not disappear by monday. clapton wonders what's made you suddenly so possessive, only for a second before your mouth finds a spot that makes clapton whine.

"shhh," you whisper, pressing kisses down clapton's neck as he holds onto your hips, tent in his pants growing with the idea that bruises made by you will linger on his skin even after he leaves.

clapton's hand reaches for your head as you move further away, guiding you gently back to his neck, tilting his head for you. "more, please," he rasps out, too desperate to be embarrassed.

you laugh, thinking he doesn't really mean it, kissing his lips instead. your tongue slips inside his mouth, kisses sloppy and warm as they usually are. clapton's fingers are messing with the waistband of your pajama bottoms and your hands clutch onto the back of his neck.

neither of you care as your noses press into each other, disconnected and reconnected mouths making sounds that make that warm feeling in the pit of your stomach grow.

you roll your hips and clapton fully moans into your mouth, eyes evidently hazy when you pull away for air. your hand slips down to clapton's sweatpants, resting on him gently but refusing to give him anything more. clapton works for it, moving his hips up into your hand, biting his lip to keep from being too loud. you'd almost forgotten how desperately clapton davis craved your touch, craved the feeling of being inside you, doing almost anything you'd tell him just for the feeling of you against him.

you indulge him, tugging on clapton's sweatpants and palming him through his boxers. his face is in your shoulder, quiet moans muffled by you.

clapton is respectful, even now. his hands pull at your shirt but don't take it off. though, his grip on your hips tighten, his face strains. you roll off of him, strip yourself completely. he barely has time to admire you before he pulls his own bottoms off, kicking them off your bed as you grab one of the condoms taped to the top of one of your drawers.

clapton is already starting to drip pre-cum at the sight of you, hurrying to take the foil package from you. he opens it with his teeth, a trick he learned solely to impress you, getting it on with slightly-trembling hands.

you slide back onto your bed, letting clapton kiss you as he gently lies you down on your pillows - always making sure you're comfortable. he climbs on top of you, careful not to drop his weight on top of you, kissing the skin of your shoulders and chest as your hands rest on his toned shoulders. his arms look incredible, hands on either side of your body as clapton lifts himself up.

you let yourself look at him for a second, pulling his face into his hands. you watch his slightly-confused expression, his eyes eventually focusing on yours. not your body, not your lips. he's staring straight into you, asking no questions about your sudden need to admire him. and then he leans in, placing an unusually gentle kiss on your lips, feather-light and almost not there at all.

and then he's asking you if you're ready, like he always does, placing his mouth against your shoulder to muffle his moans as he carefully slips inside of you and finally gives you what you've been wishing for all day.

clapton lies next to you after you finish, condom tied up and thrown out, both of you cleaned up with the help of wet wipes and towels you kept handy.

clapton was unusually quiet and you were beginning to tally all the times he had acted out of character today. usually, he'd be cracking jokes, trying to kiss you obnoxiously, because when has clapton davis ever been serious about anything?

not tonight, though. he's starting to worry you with his silence. did he fall asleep? no, you hear him shift beside you. you dare to look over and see clapton on his side, head propped up on an arm. he's biting the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit you recognize by now.

you lay there for a few moments, anxiety almost fully settled in before clapton finally speaks.

"you know," clapton starts, voice nervous like you've never heard it before. you turn to give him your full attention, though you're not sure if that makes it better or worse. "you know... you know i like you, right?"

that takes you by surprise. it shouldn't; obviously clapton has to like you to some degree to be here. but if he's saying what you think he's saying-

"like... i like you. like, i want to take you out on a date. jesus, how many times am i gonna say like?"

you can't help but laugh, clapton rubbing his forehead with his palm.

clapton smiles again, more familiar now, but it's still a little nervous. if you'd rest against his chest right now, you're sure you'd hear his heart racing.

you're biting your lip, too, not sure how to reply. because the feelings you've realized you have for clapton terrify you. not out of shame or embarrassment, but of pure fear that clapton won't take anything between the two of you seriously.

you're too quiet and clapton has always hated the silence, a need to fill it pushing him to take on the role of class clown.

"stupid, right? that's, like, the one thing that wasn't supposed to happen." clapton laughs his usual charming laugh, as if the entire thing was no big deal.

he almost fooled you.

"i like you, clapton davis," you admit out loud for the first time after a moment, catching clapton himself by surprise. "i mean, i seriously hate how much i like you."

clapton laughs again, but you can tell it's genuine this time. he turns to you again, watching your face but detecting no deception. he knows you're mostly joking, but he doesn't have to ask why the part that isn't joking said that.

he knows how careless he can be. his go-with-the-flow attitude let him accept whatever you'd give him, but it'd almost driven you away, too. as clapton realized how much he really cared, you'd thought that he had not really cared at all, pushing him away as you discovered your own growing love to try and prevent yourself from getting hurt. it was a real mess.

"i, um," clapton starts, not quite great with words that aren't strung together to make people laugh. "really care about you. in the way that i'd stand outside your window for an hour if you wanted me to and i wouldn't even ask for sex." clapton cringes at the example but to his relief, you laugh. "and i can't promise you i won't hurt you but i fully give you permission to, like, chop my dick off or something if i do."

"clapton-"

"i'm serious!" clapton laughs, relieved that you're laughing along with him. "i'll sign a waiver. just let me take you out on an actual date?" he asks hopefully, spinning one of his bracelets around his wrists nervously.

clapton grins so wide his cheeks hurt when you nod, smiling as he is. "yeah, okay."

he doesn't wait to long to cup your face and kiss you, making sure his mouth presses against yours slowly and carefully, trying to pour all the things he can't figure out how to say into the kiss. you seem to get it, letting clapton rub his thumb over your cheek gently and look at you for a few moments after you separate. he wipes the corner of your lips, large fingers dragging along the high points of your face.

"i should go," he says finally, quietly, reluctantly.

"you could go in the morning," you say too quickly. it's risky, but you don't want to let go of clapton just yet.

clapton grins, traces your jaw. "if you insist."

you're rolling your eyes with no hostility, getting up to pull something fresh on, throwing clapton a shirt he'd left that you'd had to lie to your parents about when they spotted it in your hamper.

"i can't believe you didn't know i liked you. i gave you my favorite bracelet," clapton shakes his head in disbelief as he pulls the shirt on and digs for the sweatpants he'd thrown to the ground.

"you didn't give it to me, you left it here," you scoff, climbing back in to bed.

"that's the same thing," clapton insists, picking the neon green bracelet off your desk, heart leaping at the fact that you'd kept it. he climbs in next to you, holding out an expectant hand. you place your arm in it, smiling as you let clapton slide the bracelet onto your wrist.

"there. now i gave it to you."

"yeah, whatever." you pull clapton down next to you, placing your head on his chest while his strong arms wrap around you instinctively. one of his hands reaches up to your shoulder, rubbing up and down soothingly.

"goodnight," you mumble quietly, sleep catching you quickly.

"goodnight," clapton whispers, letting it take him, too.

he'd dream about you like he usually would, but you're already in his arms like he'd always hoped.

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis #detention 2011 #clapton davis x you #clapton davis smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #v + clapton #v writes

[cowgurrrl]

I Believe In You

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: A bet is made [3.0k]

Warnings: so many kisses I stopped counting, Joel talking about his past, parental death, slight angst (???) but lots of comfort (!!!), so many pet names, so much flirting, these two MAKE ME SICK

You thought getting back in the car would be awkward or silently suffocating you with tension. You thought he'd disappear when you finally found the strength to pull away from his stained lips or that he'd panic the way you had started to panic. He doesn't. 

When you look at him, he just smiles and caresses your chin gently. You're both slow to disentangle from each other, but the night's humidity warrants it. Still, he doesn't move very far once his hands are to himself again. You feel better or, at least, less crazy. Joel is somehow really got at making your shitty moments feel less shitty. "Do you wanna go home, or can I take you for some ice cream?" He asks, his voice a little hoarse, and you smile. Your lipstick is stuck to his mouth, but he doesn't seem to mind. He seems proud of it. When you reach out to smooth some of it away, he lets you get most of it before he presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb. Smug, you think to yourself. 

"I think ice cream sounds great." You say. He grabs the hand you used to wipe away the lipstick, interlocks your fingers, and escorts you to the passenger side to open the door for you. He doesn't let go until you're settled in the seat, and even then, he leans against the door, just looking at you. There's an adorably giddy twinkle in his eyes and a smear of lipstick on his chin. You have to kiss him one more time to fight the fuzzy feeling between your temples. You really meant for it to be quick so you could get ice cream, but he chases your lips and kisses you again. 

"I like kissin' you," he hums against your lips, and you laugh.

"Yeah?" 

"Oh, yeah. We should've done this sooner."

"You're a mess." You tease as you push him away. He stares at you fondly for another second or two before finally closing the door and jogging around to the other side to start the car. It takes a whole two red lights before he finally builds up the courage to rest a hand on your thigh, casually drumming the beat of an old country song into the fabric of your dress as he drives. 

The Sonic he pulls into is pretty dead, with only the tired workers and high school students filling the space. The neon lights of the signs buzz and crackle outside your window as you half-lean across Joel to look at the menu, even though you already know what you want. You order a cookie dough blast, and he orders a mint chocolate chip shake, which you make a face at. He catches you and furrows his eyebrows at you as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

"What's that look for?" He asks, and you shake your head. 

"You think you know someone." 

"D'you have a problem with my order?" 

"Mint chocolate chip ice cream is your go-to order? Seriously?" You ask, and he chuckles as he pays. You think about arguing with him about paying for you, but you can't imagine he'd take any money you offered, so you just go back to not not flirting with him. 

"Is this gonna be a deal-breaker for ya?"

"It just might be." Your smile betrays your words, and his hand again finds a place on your leg. Now that the dam is broken, it seems like his favorite thing is to have you close enough to touch, and you're not gonna be one to get in the way of that. You talk until your ice cream rolls its way to the truck, and then you enjoy the cold treats quietly. That is until you catch sight of one of the stray, fat cats lingering in the parking lot. You gasp and get Joel's attention, but he tries to act as excited as you feel. 

"I'm gonna go get one." You threaten, and Joel laughs.

"They'll scratch you."

"No, they won't. Cats love me," you point at a particular plump orange one. "I'd snag that one and take it home. Name it Tubs or somethin'."

"You'd be walkin' home with Tubs." He says, and you turn back to look at him, your jaw dropping slightly at him. He smirks at the reaction and takes a sip of his shake. 

"What? You don't like cats?" 

"'M allergic." He says, and you suck your teeth as you sink back into the seat.

"That sucks."

"Tell me bout it. Sarah used to leave milk out on the porch for the neighborhood cats to try and convince one of 'em to come live with us. Even told her second-grade teacher bout her little plan," he says. "Then, she had to tell 'em all bout how Daddy's allergy broke her heart."

"I think it's heartbreaking, and I'm an adult." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head at you. You trade stories back and forth between bites, and once your styrofoam cups are empty, you slide your uncomfortable heels off and stretch out across the bench seat. Joel doesn't hesitate to pull your legs across his lap and trace happy little circles into your calves as you talk. 

It's always been easy to talk to Joel, but in the privacy of his truck, it feels like it's second nature. He's a good listener, nodding and asking questions along the way, and tells his own stories without hesitation. You could probably sit there for hours and listen to him talk, especially as the nights get darker and his accent gets a little thicker. But you think his laugh is what gets you the most. That big, hearty, throwing-your-head-back kinda laugh that makes your heart sing.

"I can't believe that!" He laughs, and you shake your head, smiling. 

"What? That college is expensive, or that I ran a semi-successful tattoo business out of my apartment for a few months?" You ask, and he pinches your skin playfully, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of his hands on you.

"I know college is expensive, smartass. I just can't believe you did that."

"Better believe it, maverick. There are some really successful adults out there with my shitty tattoos on them." 

"Were they really shitty, or are you tryna be modest again?" He asks, seeing right through you, and you squint at him. He copies the eagle-eyed stare, and you push at him a little, only a little annoyed at how good he is at reading you. 

"I guess we'll never know," you shrug. "C'mon, your turn. What were you like in college?"

"I didn't go to college." 

"Okay, what were you like during that time?"

"In high school, I was kinda pain in the ass. Showin' up late, not doin' my work, breakin' rules, makin' bad decisions." 

"A bad boy. I bet the girls musta loved you."

"Somethin' like that." He laughs. 

"What changed?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath. A crease forms between his eyebrows, and his jaw flexes as he thinks. The air in the truck seems to shift in seconds. You're about to take back the question and tell him he doesn't have to answer, or you can talk about something else, but he pushes forward.

"My dad died the first week of my senior year," he shakes his head, and you get a glimpse of the grieving seventeen-year-old who's probably always been just below the surface, but you couldn't see. He seems so small and so scared. Nothing like the man in front of you now. You put your hand over his without thinking. "It was a freak accident. Heart attack while he was workin'. There wasn't anythin' anyone could've done. My mom took over his contracting company and did her best but was strugglin' too. Tommy wasn't even a teenager yet, so I took over a lot of the day-to-day carin' for him, takin' him to school, gettin' groceries, homework, and all that. When I graduated, I took the company over from my mom and basically had to start over, and I've been doin' it ever since."

"I'm so sorry, Joel." The words feel like trying to put a bandaid on a bullet hole. You would think after so many centuries of people losing loved ones, we'd find something better to say to each other. Joel swallows thickly and shakes his head. He keeps his eyes glued to your hands and clears his throat of sudden emotion.

"'S alright. 'S been a few years." He mumbles, the fatherless seventeen-year-old vanishing and being replaced by the man who's been a father for longer than his dad was. 

"Still doesn't make it easier."

"No, it doesn't," he says. "I did think about goin' to college. I thought that once Tommy got through and settled, maybe I could go. But he enlisted right outta high school, and we had Sarah, and it just wasn't in the cards for me." 

"That's okay." You say, and he nods. You've never asked Ellie about her or Sarah's mother. The most you know is that she was a ward of the state before being adopted, and that's only because it's in her paperwork. It's not your place to ask about her, but now, you can't help the wonder brewing in the back of your mind. We had Sarah, he said. When did 'we' turn into 'I' and why?

"I don't regret it… havin' her so young. It was just hard. I was a kid, and she was so goddamn small and perfect, and I wasn't. Tommy was overseas. There'd be weeks where we didn't hear from him, and we were so fuckin' scared. Mom hasn't been all there since Dad died, and I can't even blame her," he says as his thumb taps against yours. "But I'd do it all over again if it meant I got to be that little girl's dad."

"You're a good dad," you say, and he scoffs. 

"Doesn't feel like it most days." He says. You sit up and look him in the eyes so he knows how genuine you are. 

"I'm serious, Joel. You're a good dad. Do you know how many parents don't even respond to my emails, let alone show up to discuss solutions with me? In my entire career, I haven't met a parent so involved and selfless. It's refreshing," you say. "And you're a good son. And a good brother. You should be really proud of yourself," he looks at you with heavy, emotional eyes and you double down. "I mean it." 

He takes a second to process your words, seemingly turning them over like rocks in his mind. When was the last time someone granted him the kindness of knowing how wanted he is? How important he is? How necessary he is? It might not be your responsibility, but you think it'd be okay if you took on a little bit of that mission. If only to get him to talk better of himself. 

"Thank you," he says, devastating tears welling in his eyes. "I mean it." You nod, and he squeezes your hand tightly like he's looking for grounding. You kiss his cheek, jaw, nose, everything to calm him down, and he kisses you in return. 

This kiss is different than the first one. Where that one was fire and impatience, this one is soft and slow, like you have all the time in the world. Your hand lands on his chest, and your fingers finally get to memorize the chain that's been taunting you all night. Kissing him— feeling the scratch of his beard, the heaviness of his hands, the almost hungry press of his lips— is addicting. He tastes like the mint chocolate chip shake you teased him for and your lipstick. Surprisingly, he's the one to break the kiss this time but tucks you under his arm before you can miss him too much. 

You cuddle into him and grab his hand to play with his fingers and count the freckles, scars, and marks on the bumps and valleys on his knuckles. You go back to a comfortable silence. He kisses your temple, jaw, and shoulder every few minutes like he forgets what your skin tastes like and desperately needs another hit. Whatever might be left in your cups has long since melted, and the cats have moved from one end of the parking lot to the other. You don't want the night to end. You don't want the morning light to reveal all your obligations and rules again. You want to sit in this deserted Sonic and talk about nothing with him. 

"So, if college wasn't in the cards for you, what is? What's the next thing?" You finally ask after letting the question simmer in your head for a while. 

"Besides gettin' my kids through school?" He asks against your temple, and you laugh. 

"Yeah. In a perfect world where you could do anything you wanted, what's the first thing you'd want to do? Not what you think you should or have to do. What do you want to do? Professionally or just in life." You poke his forearm to drive your point home. You thought it would take him a minute to think about his options, but he's quick with the answer. 

"I'd want to expand my dad's business. Maybe open up another department of homemade tables and nice chairs and stuff like that. Make it really worth somethin'." He says dreamily, and you smile. 

"Sounds nice," you say, and he hums. "What's stopping you?"

"Money. We have enough to do day-to-day operations and make a profit, but we don't have enough to take big leaps like the one I'm thinkin'."

"So, apply for money." You say, and he scoffs.

"Right. Easy."

"I'm serious. There's gotta be loans or grants out there for small business owners. Especially ones that are as dedicated as you." 

"I don't know. Aren't those things kinda based on luck?" He asks.

"And you don't think the Millers are due some luck?" You counter, and he sighs. "You can admit I'm right sometimes. It's okay." 

"Alright, simmer down there, sweetheart. I didn't say all that," he says. "Your turn. Perfect world, what's the first thing you'd want to do?"

"Get my work in a gallery and get people with way more money than me to buy my art so I can keep making more. In an absolutely perfect world, I'd be able to make things people really connect with and care about." You answer equally as fast as he did. 

"What's stoppin' you?" He asks.

"Nobody's taking my work. They keep saying they want something with more emotion or more of a story, and I just don't have time to make art like that right now. I know I could. It'd just be a lot." 

"What are you makin' now?"

"Shitty commissions that I don't really care about. They're just something to pay bills. Or if it's not shitty commissions, it's just shitty art." 

"Wow," he scoffs, and you turn to look at him, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Are you this mean to your students? 'Cause if you are, I think I've gotta report you to someone." He says, and you slap his arm. 

"No, c'mon. It's just, I don't know! It's different!" 

"You just don't think you deserve the same grace you give them 'cause you think you have to have everythin' figured out." 

"Damn, Miller!" You exclaim at his effortless analysis. If it wasn't so spot-on and unexpected, you might be embarrassed. He bows his head a little and smirks.

"You can say I'm right sometimes. It's okay." He echoes, and you roll your eyes. You adopt a deep voice and mimic him, making him laugh and swear that he "doesn't sound like that." He gets pensive again like he did when he started talking about his dad, and you sit up, waiting for whatever he might throw your way. "I have an idea," he says, and you smile. "How bout we make a deal? I'll apply for whatever fundin' is available, and you make those pieces and submit them to galleries, and we'll see who gets what. Either way, we both do somethin' that pushes us further."

"What? Like a bet?" 

"If that helps you get motivated, sure." He says, and you hum.

"What do I get if I win?" You ask. 

"Something to lord over me forever?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find plenty of those."

"Alright, if you win, I'll... do whatever classroom renovations you need or want for free for a whole school year." He says. You'd be lying if you said the idea wasn't a good one. You'd get to upgrade your classroom and stop things from falling apart while getting to watch Joel work. And it's free? It's too good of an opportunity to pass up. 

"Alright, and what do you get if you win?" You ask even though you have an idea of what he's going to say. 

"I want to take you out on a date. A real date. Not one these… what'd you call 'em?"

"Not dates?"

"Yeah," he says. "If I win, you have to let me take you on a real nice date. We'll get all dressed up, and I'll take you somewhere much fancier than fuckin' Sonic. I'd even make sure Ellie has no idea it's happenin' if it'll make you feel better." It sounds like a dream. You'd be stupid to say no.

"I think I can manage that." You agree, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you offer him your hand. "You've got yourself a bet, Miller. I hope you like climbing on tables."

"Gettin' cocky already?" He asks, squeezing your hand, and you shrug. "Alright, princess, it's on." 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @casssiopeia @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller

#i present: the b plot #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #the last of us fic #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou #the last of us au #tlou au #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #and a partridge in a pear tree

[suiana]

Hope you are having an amazing day! How would yan gov official react to a darling who is scared of him? Like, they always try to run away when they see him?

hi babe 🥰🥰

the man sighs, eyebags under his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair messily. it had been five days. five days without your touch. and it was all because he choked someone who was oogling your body in the wrong way.

seriously, he thought he'd have better restraint but it just happened!

to be honest, he doesn't really care about whether he choked the random person. the reason why he was worried was because of you. you were a meek little thing, easily scared and always shy. and the fact that he had these violent tendencies made things worse.

the government official had apologized profusely to you, giving you gifts to try and make up for what happened but still, you hid from him.

he doesn't know what to do and he's at his wit's end trying to get you to forgive him.

"shit... i shouldn't have done that... should've just did it after i got them to a safe place..."

the government official groaned, throwing his head back as his assistant came into the room with a letter. the man had plans of throwing his assistant out but seeing that familiar handwriting he had always adored, he quickly snapped out of his depressive state and snatched the letter out.

oh, is this a letter of acceptance..?

tearing apart the letter, his heart raced. what was it? were you gonna forgive him? were you mad and scared? oh he can't contain his anxiety!

though, the second he opened the letter, he could only shake his head in disappointment. for it was merely a picture of some meme you found online. a picture of ham.

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere government official #yandere government official x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

[cherryrainn]

I saw you're interested in angsty asks and this idea has been brewing in my head for a while.

headcanons or short scenario, whichever you prefer (if you're interested in the idea)

G/n reader who works at I.M.P and is Blitzø's s/o gets seriously injured while fighting striker during the events of the Western Energy episode

No pressure to write this one. Take care 💜💜

━━ ✧ 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; blitzø x reader

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA THANK YOUU (edit; i was copy and pasting the pairing thing and accidentally wrote fem reader, sorry abt that yall 😭i fixed it!)

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; violence, injury, medical situations

the air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and lingering danger. you were part of the team that faced off against striker, and unfortunately, you bore the brunt of the confrontation.

as the impromptu battle reached its climax, you found yourself in the line of fire, striker's relentless assault leaving you seriously injured. moxxie and millie, your fellow team members, did their best to help you, but the damage was done. wounds marred your form, and the pain was etched across your face.

in the aftermath, moxxie and millie carefully carried you back to i.m.p headquarters, a mix of concern and urgency etched on their faces. the atmosphere inside the office was tense as blitzø paced anxiously, his usual bravado momentarily replaced by genuine worry, looks like one of them called him about it already.

when moxxie and millie brought you in, blitzø's eyes widened at the sight of your injuries. he rushed forward, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare display of genuine concern. "what the fuck happened out there?" he demanded, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

moxxie explained the confrontation with striker, detailing how you had bravely faced the danger head-on. "we tried to cover them, sir," moxxie added, his usually calm demeanor tinged with a sense of urgency. "but striker was relentless. they took a beating for all of us."

blitzø's expression darkened, guilt evident in his eyes. "i should've been there," he muttered, his tone laced with regret. "i should've protected you."

you managed a weak smile, your voice a mere whisper. "it's not your fault, blitz, you weren't even there. we took on striker together."

blitzø's gaze softened, and he knelt beside you, careful not to worsen your injuries. "you're damn fuckin' right you did," he replied, his bravado returning, though there was a genuine warmth in his eyes.

moxxie and millie excused themselves, leaving you and blitzø alone in the quiet aftermath. the imp-turned-mercenary took your hand gently, his touch surprisingly tender. "you scared the hell outta me, you know that?" he admitted, his usual barriers momentarily lowered.

you chuckled weakly. "sorry for stealing the spotlight."

blitzø's laughter, usually boisterous, was subdued. "you're gonna be okay, got it? we'll patch you up, and then we'll get back to causing chaos together."

despite the pain, you couldn't help but smirk. "looking forward to it."

blitzø, typically one to deflect serious moments with humor, surprised you by maintaining a quiet vigil. his fingers traced absent patterns on the back of your hand as he watched the makeshift medical team bustle around, preparing to mend the wounds inflicted on you.

the imp's expression shifted from attempted reassurance to a quiet rage. he clenched his fists, knuckles turning white as his gaze fixed on your battered form.

"that son of a bitch," blitzø muttered under his breath, the air around him crackling with an uncharacteristic intensity. "if i ever get my hands on that shitbag, i'll make him regret laying a finger on you."

despite the pain, you reached out to gently touch blitzø's arm. "blitz, don't do anything reckless. we can handle this together."

he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration and determination. "he's not getting away with this. hell, i'll drag him through every fuckin' circle just to make sure he pays for what he did to you."

your heart swelled with gratitude for blitzø's protective instincts. "just focus on getting me patched up, okay? we can deal with striker later."

blitzø's anger simmered beneath the surface, but he nodded, a promise etched in his eyes. "we'll deal with him, alright. no one messes with my crew but me and gets away with it."

you couldn't help but laugh, despite the soreness in your body. "well, you're the exception, aren't you, blitz?"

he chuckled, a little smile forming. "damn right. i'm the only one allowed to cause chaos in this place."

you two continued to banter, even in the aftermath of a fierce battle. as he continued patching up your wounds, the imp's laughter mingled with your own, creating a moment of shared resilience amidst your pain.

#BLITZO #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss #blitzo #blitzø #helluvaboss #helluva #blitzo x reader #x reader #helluva boss x reader #y/n #reader insert #ask #angst

[simpfr]

Im so sorry if this is uploaded late or if it isn’t good enough I’ve been having the most gut wrenching headaches because of my anemia and i also have exams so i can’t be on my phone very often.

Tags: @mikeikax @bucky-barnes-supremacy @ken-zah @datweirdperson765 @pulling-out-my-eyes @yunonaneko @queenofsimpsblog @a10vely-yutazen @clayyfan @cantdothis-nomore @lieutenantlashfaz

Lieutenant why is ur user so long 😭

 I wish you knew.

Part 2.

His hair was so soft to the touch, it felt like you were running your hand through a billow of clouds that wrapped themselves around your arm as an ethereal feeling was sent throughout your body.

If there was a chance you could steal his hair and use it as your mattress and pillows you would've done it in the blink of an eye...

"Can you turn around so I can how it looks on you?" you asked and he nodded, turning around while avoiding eye contact with you, because...well, in a situation like this you would usually do something devious.

But, this time around you didn't and he looked so adorable. His hair was tied back down into to a loose low ponytail with there still being some hair at the front to not leave his forehead bare as it was his signature style while you added a little heart clip to keep the short front hair from falling out.

The only reason he was doing this was to leave an impression on gayatri, who he recently asked on a date.

They weren't they dating but they became friends a month or two ago and pavitr wanted step it up a bit.

Though, he never said it was a date but instead "a hangout"

Sometimes, you really wanted to stab yourself in the mouth and rip your tongue out.

You were the one who suggested they became friends and you were the one who told him to ask her out at least once in awhile to make her "grow or feel a connection"

Why? you weren't even sure yourself.

You knew she began growing feelings for him as well but instead of keeping them apart, you willingly made them get closer to one another.

who were you to deny his love life? He's been your best friend since the primary school days! you couldn't just snatch his chances of ever finding love out of pure spite.

But once again, ever since the whole 'hangout with gayatri' thing has been going on you've never really hangout or talk to each other as much as you used to.

The only time you would have a conversation would be on WhatsApp where you would text like two random people who just got each other's number.

You weren't sure if it was on purpose or not but you were still glad to be able to see him again, "actually, can you come with me this time?"

What?

"You mean third wheel? Yea, no thanks." as mean as it sounded, who in the right mind would want hear their longtime crush trying to get it on with their friend? Or anyone in that matter.

"I'm not talking about sitting with us! Just like, watch and be there with me for emotional support."

"Why now? you've went on date with her multiple times already haven't you? you didn't even ask me to go with you during your first time!" he sighed before placing his arms on your shoulders. Looking you right in the eye like he used to, but this time he wasn't looking for your reaction instead he wanted you to see his, to take what he had to say seriously.

Taking in a deep breath, he spoke,"I'm planning on confessing today."

....

Oh.

That sentence alone made your heart beat faster from anger as the walls of realization came crashing down on you.

you knew you should've said something.

you knew you should've made a move.

But you didn't, So you couldn't blame him right? It was his heart and he knew who he wanted it belong to.

You couldn't control his fate nor could you control yours, as in the story written by the one you were just meant to be someone who admired him as he admired someone else.

It took everything in you to not break down at that moment as you avoided making eye contact with him, "yea, I'll be there."

He smiled softly before placing a kiss on your forehead, a gesture he has done multiple times that always made you flustered but now you just felt dull.

"We'll be at the regular cafe, okay?" you nodded, waiting for him to leave you alone in his home once again but for a complete different reason.

He gave you one last look before finally living.

Fuck life.

⏤͟͟͞͞☆

They talked and laughed, clearly enjoying their time together. But, for some reason his mind was still on you. He knew you were there watching, following his instructions from before but he wanted you near to him, he wanted to see you, to hear you, feel you, everything.

Was his feelings towards you really platonic? I mean, it's not weird to think of your friend as attractive and loveable right?

Should he leave? I mean whats the point on confessing if his mind was on someone else as well?

But he didn't just wanna leave early because of that..

"HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE!" A citizen yelled as a crowd of gut wrenching screams that slowly started to get louder was followed.

Everyone that was in the cafe began to scatter towards the door making it a struggle for anyone to get through.

Seems like fate decided to choose for him.

Remember how i said everyone went towards the front door? Well, it was everyone except gayatri.

She quickly got up and grabbed pavitr's hand, attempting to lead him towards the back door along with her, but he didn't budge.

"I'm going for y/n. You just get somewhere safe okay?" she looked at him with pure fear and concern in her eyes,"What? She was here?"

Oh right, she didn't know.

"She's smart, she would've left by now and so should we!" she said, trying to pull him again but failed miserably, "You really need to go, gayatri. I'll be fine." he said with his honey tone voice that completely swooed her.

She was hesitant but nodded and left anyway .

✰

He couldn't see you, he couldn't hear you or sense you anywhere no matter how hard he tried. Everything was fine, everything was resolved and everyone was saved.

Everyone except you.

It wasn't that dangerous of a villan and he was captured, so where were you?

He checked inside your apartment, you weren't there.

Maybe your parents house? No

Your friends houses? Still no.

You weren't answering your phone either, did something happen to you? Did one of the villains minion get to you? But why you? He never slipped up and went to your house in his uniform before. Did they somehow find out his identity? But that's not possible... Maybe It was his hair?...

Sighing on the rooftop of a random, he went towards your apartment one more time thinking that maybe there was a tiny chance you were there and boy was he glad he did.

You were there, not in your room but on the rooftop and just seeing you, alive and okay, lifted a huge weight off his shoulder.

he wasted absolutely no time to start swinging towards you as fast as he could, as if if he didn't capture in less than a minute you would disappear like sand in the wind, jumping and leeching onto you like a cat after his last swing.

"Wha–? Spiderman?"

your voice. He loved your voice so much but it sounded weak and fragile, were you crying?

"Spider man?" you asked again. He wanted to kiss you so bad, to make whatever it was that made you cry go away. Completely oblivious to the fact he was the reason.

Maybe his feelings towards you weren't platonic.

"I love him but I don't wanna."

╞══════════╡

Part 3

He forget he spiderman while spidermaning

#scenarios #reader insert #pavitr x you #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #light fluff #very fluffy #light angst

[pandorasfavorite]

Summary: Aonung is nothing but sweet towards you, till one day he isn't.

Note: This is short but angsty and also I think I should've made the ending different but idk.

He doesn't even remember why he yelled at you because there's nothing you could do that would anger him. But it happened because that tear-stained face and those pinned-backed ears will forever be etched into his memories. This day will forever be in the back of his head labeled as the moment he broke your heart.

Now he is just reminiscing over what just happened but a harsh shove to his shoulder makes it hard. Loak is running after you after delivering the harsh shove and a few curses. Neteyam is far behind him but instead of shoving past Aonung, he confronts him, "Why would you say that to the woman you are betrothed to?". Aonung hangs his head in shame like a child being scolded he isn't aware of Neteyams departure or his sisters. So he is left alone on shore aching to talk to the woman he loves.

~before~

His duties the day prior were not to Toniwaris standards, Aonung was scolded and punished that morning before training began. Maybe if it wasn't for the Sully's needing assistance he would've done better so this is their fault. Aonung was in a bad mood all day ignoring your advances to talk to him and even shielding away from your hidden touches. Aonung didn't want to act this way towards you, it's improper to disregard the woman you are courting. But the annoyance from being scolded and punished lingered heavily. After tense ilu lessons next were breathing exercises, where everyone sat beside each other in a circle and was coached.

It was going smoothly for the most part, with a few chuckles and giggles from around the circle, also some chit-chat. Aonungs mood did not go unnoticed by anyone though. You tap Aonungs knee hearing a grunt come from him signaling you to speak, "What is wrong yawne?". He does not reply instead he makes a demonstration on the proper way to breathe. Your mind is focused on Aonung and how you can help him so you try again, "Did I do something wrong?" you say in a whisper touching his knee once more. The annoyed growl that Aonung produces stops all the conversation and all eyes turn toward him. "Can you do anything right?", Loak and Neteyam visibly straighten up at his words, "Hey man lay off of-" you cut Loak off with a raise of your hand. Aonung continues his proclamation, "I mean seriously you sit here poking and prodding at me when you have so much to learn. You're so obviously behind that it's pathetic y/n. Maybe it is time I start looking for a more suitable mate" he says finishing with a huff.

Everyone around him gasps except you, you're too heartbroken to even consider gasping. No. Instead, tears roll down your face uncontrollably as you stand, "I agree" you walk away, yet somehow you start running all the same.

~back to present~

He knows he must apologize and make things right, cause maybe he still has a chance to be with you forever. So he sprints as fast as his legs can carry him the sand getting kicked behind him trying to slow him down. He skids to a stop seeing you kicking your feet at the water below you where you sit. You know he's there, you can sense his presence from miles away because of the love you carry for him. Even though you know Aonung is there you speak no words of acknowledgment to him. So he speaks first moving his body to sit next to yours.

"I didn't mean what I said" he speaks looking at your face apologetically.

"I know," you say watching your feet in the water below you.

"I'm sorry".

"I know".

He feels his heart crack with every syllable that leaves your lips, somehow even through this pain you are facing, you are still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. You put your hand out right where the space is still not looking at him. Aonung places his hand right on top of yours looking down at the water similar to yours.

"I hurt you didn't I?" Aonung says already knowing the answer.

"You did," you say with a sniffle.

Aonung nods at this feeling his heart shatter even more than before, "I'll fix this. I'll do anything for you. You are all I want yawne". You lean your head on his chest exhaling as you hear his heartbeat, "You'll fix this" you repeated to him in reply.

He nods his head in agreement putting his arms around your torso, "I will".

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x you #aonung imagine #aonung x female reader #aonung x y/n #avatar way of water

[geonwooz]

♡ PRETTY YOU — KIM GUNWOO

gunwoo x fem!reader | wc : 0.5k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, fluff, swearing, strangers to friends (?)

“ah, fuck my life.”

you cursed your luck, sitting at the bus stop while contemplating your life decisions.

should've watched my step. you wondered, looking down at your arm, which was in a cast. but i could've sworn that step wasn't there before.

after a minor accident that resulted in your arm in a cast, you were informed you had an appointment for your passport picture.

and with your roommate away for the weekend, you had absolutely no one to help you. it took you all your effort to get your clothes prim and proper, but you forgot about your hair in the process.

upon seeing your phone's reflection, you realized you needed to be absolutely professional for the picture — and this meant having a proper hairstyle.

and as a last resort, you took a deep breath, turning towards the male beside you who was also waiting for the bus. he looks nice. you wondered, politely smiling.

“hi. i’m really sorry for disturbing you,” you apologized as you greeted him. “but could you please help me tie my hair?”

kim gunwoo seemed confused at first, wondering why you were asking him before he saw the cast on your arm.

“i, uh, haven’t really done this before,” he admitted honestly, feeling bad when he saw your mood deflate. “i could try, though.”

“that’d be much appreciated,” you thanked him. “i have to get my passport pictures done, and my roommate’s also not home. i’m really sorry for troubling you like this!”

you felt terrible, and weirdly enough, that brought a smile to gunwoo’s face. he knew you genuinely meant every word you spoke, and your politeness warmed his heart.

“i’ll touch your hair now,” he announced awkwardly, standing behind you as he gathered your hair in his hand. “is your fracture really bad? does it hurt?” he asked, trying to make some conversation as he tried to figure out what to do.

“it’s a minor one, but it hurts a lot more than i thought,” you replied, oddly feeling comfortable with this stranger. “i’m sorry about this, really.”

gunwoo chuckled, shaking his head, though you couldn’t see it. “it’s alright. if anything, i’m sorry if i’m doing anything wrong,” he apologized. “i don’t want you to ruin your picture because of me,” he muttered.

his touch on your hair was very gentle, and you could feel him trying his best, and you deeply appreciated that.

once he had tied your hair, gunwoo stood in front of you, taming your flyaways before taking out his phone and turning the camera towards you.

"wah!" you exclaimed, totally in awe. “you are really good at this! thank you very much!”

the male only smiled in response, relieved to hear his shoddy work of tying your hair was acceptable. “well, that’s a relief,” he muttered, nodding politely as he moved away.

“seriously, i mean it,” you commented, grateful for the help. “it came out so pretty. i can't believe you’ve never done this before!”

the raven-haired male shyly smiled as he looked at you, admiring the absolute golden retriever energy that was radiating off you.

for the first time in his life, kim gunwoo wanted to get to know someone, and the someone who pulled on his heartstrings was none other than you.

“ah, well, i’m glad i was able to pull off a pretty hairstyle for a pretty you.”

TAGLIST :: @missscarlettangel (TO BE ADDED, PLEASE COMMENT, SEND AN ASK OR DM!)

#[📝] works #bloodhounds #bloodhounds imagines #bloodhounds scenarios #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds gunwoo #gunwoo imagines #gunwoo scenarios #kim gunwoo imagines #kim gunwoo x reader #kim gunwoo drabbles #bloodhounds drabbles #kim gunwoo #bloodhounds geon woo #geon woo imagines #geon woo scenarios #kim geon woo imagines #kim geon woo x reader #kim geon woo drabbles #kim geon woo #bloodhounds kdrama

[deathbxnny]

I love love loveeee your writing!

Can you write something with the HSR males, preferably Blade.

So reader took off their bra under their clothes and then just puts it there on his lap with a grin showing her “magic trick”

-----♡

A/N: This is honestly pretty funny to think about lmao! Also I'm glad you love my work and thank you for the request!<33

Featured characters: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng

Content: Established relationship, unserious, suggestive themes (Kinda?), bra snatching, reader just trying to be a menace and failing honestly, nsfw

Reader has no set pronouns, but is mentioned to have the ability to wear a bra!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Blade

Blade was just trying to polish his sword in peace, after a long day at work, when you pulled this little "trick" on him. To say that he was unamused, would be an understatement.

He'll let out a deep sigh and just stare off into the distance in defeat, wondering what he has done wrong in life to deserve this. Sure, he has done alot, but damn.

On the otherhand, he feels a little vengeful for you disturbing his peace and therefore just calmly pockets the bra after an eon of silence. He won't give it back either, as a form of punishment. Though, you might catch a small, triumphant grin on his lips, when you whine for him to give it back.

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

He was sitting in his home office and looking through some scrolls, when you decided to pull the "magic trick" on him. You hoped to fluster him, but you should've known better honestly.

He'll immideatly drop whatever he is doing and give you a teasing grin, his hands immideatly pulling you close until your flush against him. It takes you by surprise, your confidence slipping, when you turn red at how close he is. He teases you with playful words, asking you what other little tricks you have and if the shirt is next.

You'll have to eventually back out of it in defeat, which earns you a triumphant laugh from him. He knew you'd yield. In fact, he perhaps planned it all out already. But don't question where the bra went afterwards... he definitely has no idea, ofcourse.

-----♡

》Dan Heng

He was relaxing in his room and looking through the Databases, when you pulled your little "trick" on him. He was frozen at first and didn't say a word. You thought you broke him for a moment, when he slowly began turning red. He seriously didn't expect you to be so bold.

He doesn't understand it either and will shakily ask you to put it back on, ignoring your teasing grin. Though ofcourse you don't overdo it and take it back, before teasing him for being so adorable for you.

He'll stubbornly look away and attempt to go back to work as though nothing happened, but as payback, he'll comment on the colour suiting you. Seeing a small blush cross your own cheeks makes him nod in satisfaction. A small win is still a win.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this is alright! Thank you again for the funny request!<33

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr dan heng #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr

[optimist-pine]

When Skies Are Gray (Ch.1)

Summary: You cross paths with someone from your past on the worst day of your life (which is saying a lot).

Warnings: Typical TWD content! Injury, death, suggestions of SA, language, etc.

Word Count: 1,661

Era: Between seasons 3 & 4, before Rick stops going on runs

A/n: I convinced myself that Daryl Dixon and coffee shop AU could totally go together...

One mistake. Very likely your last one at that. However, judging by the look in the man's eye, you may have just enough time to squeeze in another before your life comes to a permanent close. A grand finale of utterly screwing up. Seems fitting.

    Despite everything, you don't actually desire the finality of death yet. The adrenaline surging through your bones reminds you that hope isn't completely gone until your body starts walking around, y'know, without your soul attached.

    Past the end of your revolver, the man's pistol aims back at you, a cruel, sordid smile crawling across his face as his gaze roams around your figure. "Came in here lookin' for somethin' to ease our appetites... Looks like we found ourselves some dessert instead." He sounds quite pleased with himself, and you can only imagine what terrible thoughts are filling his mind.

    You can't withhold the cold shiver that slips down your spine, cursing inwardly. Stupid. There were so many things you should've done differently to prevent this exact scenario from happening, but you'd gotten comfortable. 

    The small shop held the slightest promise of ammunition; that's the only reason you'd even risked investigating it with the encroaching threat of dusk at your heels. But you'd been sloppy in scoping the place out, and careless enough that when a cold hand grabbed you from behind you'd shot without a second thought.

     Now you're reaping the repercussions of your foolishness. The lump of a body lay bleeding on the dirty linoleum floor. And you stand trapped between two men with guns who have worse intentions than using them on you.

     "Dammit, man, she shot Jed!" The second man cries from behind you.

    The first man doesn't even spare a glance. "If he let some bitch shoot 'im, then he d'serves it." He spits

    "Duke, I dunno man." His boots shift nervously. "Let's just get tha' hell outta here." Please, please do your mind pleads.

    The man named Duke begins to saunter towards you slowly, toying with you. "My pal an' I here are gonna have a fun night courtesy of you, doll. Then, after, we'll kill ya." Your arms are beginning to feel the strain from holding out your own gun for so long. You readjust your grip, but what's the point? He's almost to you now. "How's that sound?" Your thoughts are swirling, there's no way you can escape without getting at least seriously injured. But if that's the only option besides giving up willingly... well, you'll take that chance. You have to.

    On the count of three... one... tw

    BLAM!

    You drop to the ground in a crouch, expecting the inevitable overwhelming pain of being shot to take over your body - but it never does. You lift your head to find Duke... dead. You whip around to see the other man with an arrow through his eye. Your gun's back out in an instant, aimed at a new target that emerges from behind a rusty shelf.

    The new man holds a crossbow, posture rigid and shoulders sturdy. A good portion of his face is blocked by the bow except for feathers of brunette hair shrouding a blue eye. 

    "Whoa, there." The sound of a hammer being cocked at your back sends a rush of fury through you. Was this some sort of sick joke? Held at gunpoint by two men, then being rescued only to be held at gunpoint again by two different men? If you were honest with yourself, it wasn't all that surprising though. As far as luck went you were permanently scraping the bottom of the barrel.

    The crossbow in front of you lowers suddenly. "Lav'nder?"

    Now that you can see both of them clearly those blue eyes look awfully familiar. "Dixon?"

    BLAM!

    A blinding pain floods through your right shoulder so quickly that you collapse, sharp waves of heat blooming and spreading and taking over your whole body. You can see your gun lying in the dust and dirt. Huh, you hadn't realized you'd dropped it. You study the weapon as the daylight dims; the sun must not be wasting any time in its descent this evening. You think someone is talking but their voice is fading, the pain is numbing, the darkness is turning to black. There's never been a colder place than the floor of this cursed little shop.

    One last stop before heading back home. An old hole-in-the-wall gun store on the off chance they'll find anything to help replenish the resources depleted in the fight against the Governor. 

    What little promise the place does have dissipates the moment a solitary gunshot rings through the air; all senses immediately on the alert. It isn't hard to discern the situation, the lead man's intentions are unmistakable. And so, they do what they've had to do too many times before.

    But when the woman turns around, what he sees takes him a minute to process. You. He knows you. The word sounds stupid, but it escapes him nonetheless. Then again, maybe not completely stupid because you do remember him.

    BLAM!

    "Dammit!" Daryl shouts, unleashing his arrow into the skull of the third man. The man they'd mistakenly presumed was already dead. He rushes to your side, inspecting the wound. Clean through the shoulder. Good. He removes his vest and sheds his long-sleeved shirt, tying it around your shoulder, holding pressure. By the time he manages to bring himself to look you in the eye, you're already out of it.

    Rick rifles around the men's belongings, gathering up their weapons and anything else that's useful. "You know her?" He asks, skeptical, with that particular cock of his head.

    Daryl nods. "M'yeah. I did." He replies softly. You looked so different now; ragged, weary... alone. But still, he would recognize you anywhere. "C'mon, we gotta get 'er back to Hershel and Dr. S."

    Rick's checking out your belongings now, snatching your gun off the floor to inspect it. "D'you trust her?" He asks.

    Daryl hefts you up into his arms - it's easier than it should be. "She's a good one." An understatement.

    "Heh, yeah." Rick chuckles, holding your gun out for him to inspect. "Cylinder's empty. Held off four men with a gun that wasn't even loaded." He gives Daryl a nod. "Let's get 'er home."

    Daryl sits with your head in his lap, the rest of your body carefully draped across the backseat of the truck, hair spilling haphazardly across his pant legs. His fingertips hover nervously above your face, the overwhelming urge to physically reassure himself that you're really here growing by the second. He's terrified though. Why? Jus' do it. Rough fingers ever so gently brush dirty locks behind your ear, revealing sun-worn skin gone pale.

    It's like he can't look long enough or hard enough at your face to make it feel true. To make you feel real. Are you? Out of anyone who could've found their way here from his past... Out of all the deadbeats and scumbags he would be unsurprised to find thriving in the lawlessness...

    It was you.

    The town had one lonely cafe, which was unfortunately sandwiched smack dab between the tattoo parlor and the pub - aka, Merle's playground. Once Merle had left for the military and then landed himself in prison, Daryl had kept to the same old routine more out of habit than desire. 

    He was on his way to the tattoo parlor late that afternoon - he can't remember why he was using the front entrance because he almost always went in through the back - but that day he had to walk past the happy little cafe to get there...

    It's a warm spring day, the air beginning to fill with the scent of flowers instead of just dirt and cold. Which also means that people are sitting out front of the little coffee joint straining to soak up the last rays of sunshine. The shop windows are open to let in the fresh air, making the place seem noisier than usual.

    "Lavender latte!" A barista shouts around the clamor from inside.

    The screech of metal on cement to his left as a girl pushes out her chair. Just as he's about to walk past, he hears the scuff of a foot against the sidewalk and suddenly she's falling toward him. He reaches up to brace himself and stabilize her shoulders as her palms thud against his chest.

    She pulls back, quick as a whip, eyes huge as pink begins to sprout on her cheeks. "I'm so sorry!" She blurts, gaze flickering around. It's weird, but he can't help but notice that she smells good, like really good. Flowers and citrus and earth, real things, not just some overpowering canned perfume like he's used to being around at the bar. She's cute too, feminine but not girly or gaudy, hair wind-whipped, hands and feet with remnants of dirt like she's been outside working. The pages of a paperback flutter in the breeze on the table behind her, the stem of a flower peeking out the bottom of the book.

    "Are you okay?" She asks, eyes focused surely on his now, irises deep and unwavering and... Idiot. He's staring and he hasn't said a thing and you're waiting for a response.

    "M'fine." He says with a grunt, crossing his arms. He almost tells you off for being so clumsy but the barista shouts again:

    "Lavender latte!"

    She brushes her hair behind her ear as if it's a nervous habit. "Oh, okay. That's good... I'd better go get that." She laughs, the corners of her lips just barely pulling up. She starts to walk away but then quickly turns back around. "Thank you!" A full smile this time, and then she disappears behind the door.

    He shakes his head. Entertaining thoughts about a girl like that is ridiculous. At least, that's what he tells the rapid drumming of his heart. Shut up.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine #twd season 3 #twd season 4 #when skies are gray

[bonny-kookoo]

For the ilysib couple 👀 Where they have an argument but realize that they can't be without each other & make up .. maybe with some smut ? 🙈

No smut in this, only suggestive at the end :)

"Jungkook you constantly do this, it's ridiculous!" You complain, shaking your head. "I'm done with this, fuck this!" You argue, not looking at him.

"You're not even letting me talk!" He whines back at you, frantically gesturing with his hands. "I didn't mean to come off like that, come on-" he attempts to make up his mistake, looking at you with a pleading gaze, and you roll your eyes- mostly because you know his stupid round eyes will surely make you cave in.

"You know how I hate it when you don't take me seriously! You didn't even ASK me if I wanted that!" You cry out, angrily folding a skirt you throw into your bag zipped up on the bed.

And that's when he does something that really makes you fume. He's got the audacity to take out each item you just packed, even holding something out of your reach when you grab after it. "Give me that, asshole-" you growl, and he shakes his head.

"You're not leaving like that." He shakes his head, pulling the entire bag off the bed, before he sits down on the side of it. "I was stupid, it was rushed, I should've asked you first, got it. I admit that, I take that, it's my fault-" he says, and you make the mistake to look at his stupid bambi-gaze, feeling your heated anger already losing its fire. "-But don't leave. Please." He asks, hands on his knees palms facing upwards. "I'm sorry I always treat you like I do, I'll really work on it." He promises, and you sigh, arms still crossed.

"I don't want you to change that.." you mumble, chewing on your lip. "I.. ugh I like it when you like, baby me and shit, I just.." you huff to yourself, averting your eyes from him. You've got no clue how to voice your thoughts and feelings, at all. Because you've gotten so attached to him that you've now become scared to be without him.

You've let him too close, and now you're stuck with him. Now it'll hurt when he leaves. And that scares you.

"I want you to take me seriously." You whine, and he reaches out his arms for you- something you almost instinctively walk towards, letting him pull you onto his lap, hands around your back keeping you secure.

"I am." He nods, and you decide that anger doesn't suit his pretty face.

"But I want you to.. baby me too. Like.. get me shit from shelves too high, and brush my hair, and all that cheesy shit you constantly do.." you say, and he sighs.

"But you can have both?" He wonders, tilting his head to somewhat look at your lowered face. "Just cause I care for you or call you cute and do those things for you doesn't mean I'm not taking you seriously anymore." He explains, and you just shrug, defeated.

"But sometimes I don't wanna be cute." You complain. "Sometimes I wanna be sexy. You know?" You ask, looking at him, and he shakes his head, laughing.

"You're both to me." He chuckles. "That's what makes you so amazing to me. You can switch from absolutely adorable to breathtakingly hot in a split second. Makes me dizzy sometimes, not gonna lie." He flirts, and you roll your eyes.

"You just wanna have post-argument-sex right now, admit it." He laughs, loudly so, throwing his head back, before he grins at you again.

"See? Right now you're both again-" he smiles, hands sneaking under your loose shirt. "Cute and sexy. And just for the record, while I wouldn't say no, I wasn't aiming for that." He says, trying to appear seriously.

"Ah well, you're getting it anyways.." you shrug, before you leave his lap, and flop down on the bed next to him on your back. "You're doing all the work though, I'm still huffy at you for pulling that shit." You say, and he laughs fo himself, leaning over you, quickly loosing his shirt.

"Don't worry.." he purrs down at you, eyes now sharp as they look down at you. "I'll take care of you."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader

[scekrex]

You gave ma an idea babes and I really wanna go with it, because the mere thought almost made me burst out laughing.

So, Adam's kid, right? Yeah. The kid can learn how to fly, yeah? Yeah. SO NOW IMAGINE ADAM ACTUALLY TRYING TO TEACH HIM HOW TO FLY. But if you thought it would be a normal parent style - you were wrong, come on, it's Adam 😂 So at first he would just crappily explain what and how to just then pick up his kid AND THROW HIM OFF THE BALCONY TELLING HIM TO FLAP HIS WINGS 💀 If he saw the kid didn't he would just screech and fly after him and catch him before flying back up to the balcony and saying 'Alright, we're never doing THAT again' before seeing the reader just standing in front of him with arms crossed over his chest and a pissed off look, his cat mom instincts kicking in, wanting to protect and hide the kid from the - IQ levels baby daddy 😂😂🤌

So the ending might be heavily inspired by our talk about us yeeting babies too- xoxo babes

Flying and Falling are pretty close to each other

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, yeeting of children, a crack fic once again bitches

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Adam had been given the task to have an eye on his son while you were taking a bath. It had been a stressful week and you desperately needed some alone time, some time away from Adam and your son to relax a little. So Adam had assured you that they would be fine.

Adam was standing on the balcony of your apartment, his son was lifted over the railing like Simba in ‘The Lion King’ as the brunette spoke, “So remember, flapping your wings will make you fucking fly, got it shithead?” The kid in his arms nodded and Adam took that as his go to yeet the child off the balcony.

Your apartment was on the highest floor, the 96th to be exact. So if you fell off the balcony - or in that case were yeeted by your father - there was enough time to spread your wings and flap them. When that didn't happen though, Adam was quick to get in the air himself and catch the little boy who seemed to be enjoying the free fall more than he should've.

Adam wrapped his arms around the kid's body and pressed it against his chest, his hands shielded the child’s ears from the wind as he rushed back to the balcony, “Listen you little fucker, we're not gonna tell dad about what just happened, alright?” Adam hummed, seemingly proud of what he had just done as he landed on the balcony, his back towards the door that led inside.

“No need to tell dad anything,” you were leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Adam and your son. Adam spun around, with a loud, frightened gasp, “Fucking Christ, babes, you can't sneak up on a guy like that.” You simply raised an eyebrow at him, clearly demanding an explanation. “I was teaching our little fuckhead how to fly,” he explained proudly as he puffed his chest and spread his wings pridefully, his chin tilted upwards and he looked down at you through hooded eyelids. “Mhm, how did it go?” you asked critically. You had seen what had happened and in all seriousness you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him, you knew you would've done the same, that's how birds learned how to fly after all. But someone had to pretend they were the responsible parent and Adam wasn't even trying.

“Pretty good, he's still alive and he made it back up, with a little help, but he made it.” You grabbed the little boy from him, he was eager to grab a fistful of your hair and pull on it, “Yeah we're never doing that again.” It was a lie, both of you knew that. But you had to keep the act up. So you walked inside with the kid on your arm as Adam playfully chased you through the apartment, “I’m gonna fucking get you and I'm gonna yeet the fucking child again.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[haikyubts]

Lee Junho who sees Youngwoo in the lobby and walks up right up to her all smiley and pretty and gorgeous 🥰🥰🥰

Lee Junho whose smile could light up an entire town and who looks as if his heart is about to burst when Youngwoo says "I waited here because I wanted to see you."

Lee Junho who tells her "Then you should've called me over. I almost walked right past you." because he doesn't want to miss out on a moment of spending time with her.

Lee Junho who teases Youngwoo and asks "I see. So that's all you needed?" When Youngwoo says "I waited to see you and I did".

Lee Junho who laughs and looks SO DAMN HAPPY that Youngwoo noticed he's 12 minutes late and she was waiting for him.

Lee Junho who understands from one phone call that she has to go to a meeting and immediately asks if he can see her at lunch.

Lee Junho who immediately tries to be awake and look presentable (and he's SO CUTE FOR IT Y'ALL) when he receives Youngwoo's call as if a high school boy who just recieved his crush's call.

Lee Junho who is patient with Youngwoo and her mannerisms and says "Let me look at your face too." (SWOON) and tells her how to hold the phone. Who wants to see Youngwoo too 😭😭😭♥️♥️♥️

Lee Junho who again teases Youngwoo and says "Right, so that's it then? Since you got what you wanted?" when Youngwoo says she's gonna hang up the call now because she simply wanted to see him and she did. Lee Junho who so so so patiently and understandingly (and lovingly) tells her "What about how I feel as the person who answered the call? From now on, please ask if I want to hang up too." because while he understands that autistic people like Youngwoo may not understand others feelings immediately and might be fooled about other people's feelings and expressions (Youngwoo had told him this in a previous episode), Junho is also gently teaching her about how to recognize other people's feelings and give others people's feelings a thought and wants his feelings to be validated too 😭😭😭♥️♥️♥️

Lee Junho who doesn't miss a beat in answering "No" when Youngwoo asks "Do you want to hang up now?"

Lee Junho who slowly and slowly makes Youngwoo talks about others things than work and whales while also giving her a chance to talk about all of these.

Lee Junho who thinks all these dad jokes are funny just because Youngwoo is saying them 😭😭😭

Lee Junho who looks like he fell harder for Youngwoo when she says "You keep popping into my head like whales. Even though you're not one." Who looks nervous when Youngwoo says "This is the first time I have constantly thought of someone, so it's quite strange." Lee Junho is extremely moved and happy about this confession because although it's not an I love you, it might as well be. Lee Junho who gets a verbal confession of sorts that his feelings are reciprocated just as strongly and who looks serious for a moment knowing the relationship that is about to come is going to be serious because he loves Youngwoo truly and so does she!!!

Lee Junho (AND SUNSHINE GIRLBOSS SUYEON!!!) who understand that Youngwoo takes everything literally/seriously and so they help her talk about the divorce case in metaphors.

Lee Junho who immediately runs to help who just witnessed her husband die in front of her and tries to calm her down.

Lee Junho who makes sure the lady is safe and then immediately RUNS TO YOUNGWOO TO CALM HER DOWN KNOWING SHE'S BEING ANXIOUS.

Lee Junho who says it's fine and doesn't think of it as a big deal when Youngoo thanks him for hugging her and calming her down during her anxiety episode.

Lee Junho who has DONE HIS FUCKING HOMEWORK ABOUT AUTISM KNOWING HIS LOVER IS ONE AND WHO HAS RESEARCHED HOW TO HANDLE AN AUTISTIC PERSON'S SENSORY OVERLOAD EPISODE.

Lee Junho who KNOWS SO MUCH, ENOUGH TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF TOOLS MIGHT HELP AUTISTIC PEOPLE, SUCH AS THE HUG CHAIRS IN FRANCE

LEE JUNHO WHO SAYS "DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO BUY ONE? I'LL BE ONE FOR YOU. YOUR PERSONAL HUG CHAIR" BECAUSE LEE JUNHO WANTS TO STAY BY HER SIDE ALL THE TIME, IN ALL HER MOMENTS OF HIGHS AND LOWS. WHO BASICALLY MEANS TO SAY "FUCK ANY TOOLS, I'LL BE YOUR HUG CHAIR. I'LL BE THERE FOR YOU FOREVER."

Just LEE JUNHO Y'ALL.

JUST LEE JUNHO WHO HAS YOUNGWOO'S, MINE AND EVERYONE'S HEART 💜❤️

#Back on my usual weekly Lee Junho Cryfesta but here you go #kdrama #extraordinary attorney woo #kang tae oh #kdramas #park eun bin #이상한 변호사 우영우 #attorney wooyoung woo #netflix kdrama #netflix #우영우

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

vampire!dave mustaine x reader | word count: 4120 | ao3 link

It was inebriating, how completely surrendered to him you were. How fragile, and warm, and wanting.  How human.

✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!reader, +18, language, romance, mxf sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, blood mention, blood drinking

✦ a/n: It's October! And in honor of spooky month I came up with this one-shot. It's my first time writing directly in English (I usually write in my language and translate it) so I hope it's written okay. Hope you like it, feedbacks are welcome! ❤

You and Dave had an agreement.

You were close, but not too close. You both knew you could rely on each other no matter what, but you also knew there was something deeper, something you never had the guts to admit. You held onto the hope that one day the stars would align and things would magically fall into place. 

But then came the incident.

You'd always prided yourself on being unshockable, even in the wild streets of '89 LA. So when he showed up at your door looking like he'd been through a meat grinder, your first thought was that he’d probably gone and overdone it with the drugs again. It was becoming a familiar routine, taking care of him when nobody else cared. With a heavy sigh, you let him in, helping him stay on his feet and noticing how cold his skin felt.

"Dave, seriously, this time we might need to call a doctor."

"Nah," he grunted, voice strained. "No doctors. I'm good."

"What the hell happened to you?" You grabbed his hand and plopped down beside him. Whatever he'd taken this time, it was way gnarlier than his usual drug trips, and that's saying something. Dave looked like he was on the verge of sweating bullets even though it was a hot LA night. He was feverish, beads of sweat popping up on his forehead while he shook like a leaf. It should've been balmy, but if you judged by his icy-cold skin, you'd think it was the middle of winter.

"I got goddamn turned, that’s what happened" he hissed through clenched teeth, his whole body convulsing with pain. You took a step back, heart pounding like crazy. Well, that was one curveball you hadn't seen coming. Vampire attacks had become rarer than a sober rock star in the last few decades, but they still happened. You had a cousin who got bit a few years back, but luckily, the doctors managed to suck out the venom in the nick of time. That memory kicked you into high gear as you scrambled to find your damn keys.

"Dave, seriously, we gotta get you to the hospital. Maybe there's still a chance..."

"No, man, there's no damn time!" He yelled, desperate, and you just stared at him, totally stunned. "They made me drink their fucking blood. It's a done deal, I'm a fucking monster now, no way back from this!"

Your heart plummeted. Real-life vampire transformations weren't as simple as the movies and comics made them out to be. You had to get jabbed with vampire venom and guzzle some vampire blood almost right after to make it work. Plus, those bloodsuckers could choose whether to shoot their venom or just chow down on their victims.

So that meant the turnings were pretty much always on purpose.

Once it was done, it was game over.

You inched closer to Dave, your heart heavy as you gazed at the man you'd been secretly crushing on for ages. It was too painful, watching him suffer like this. You'd always held onto that hope that the stolen glances, the way you looked out for each other, and the sheer joy you found in each other's company would someday turn into something more than just friendship.

But right now, it felt like you were on the verge of losing him. Vampires weren't exactly welcome in human society; they were straight-up predators, destined to lurk in the shadows and strike when the night fell. If Dave had gone down that dark path, maybe it was time to say goodbye to the days of you two being together.

But you couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let him suffer, wounded, scared, and all alone.

Because you had an agreement.

You knew you could rely on him; he knew he could always count on you.

Dave's eyes widened as you got closer, extending your wrist toward him. He stared at you, confusion and hunger swirling in his dilated pupils. 

"Drink," you whispered, your voice trembling. He shook his head, looking horrified by the suggestion, but you closed the gap even more. "Please. You need this, Dave. You need me."

You shut your eyes and turned your head away as his hunger took over, and he sank his teeth into your skin.

It was one of those nights, the usual routine. You'd roll in from work, and there was Dave, chilling on your bed in the pitch-black room. You hadn't laid eyes on him for days, but you knew the drill. He hated having to feed, hated hurting people, but he couldn't seem to find any other way around it. Except for one option: you.

Dave had initially refused to feed on your blood ever since he had almost killed you, that night many months ago. You'd tried helping him find some alternative, but turns out, it was a way tougher gig than you'd thought. Animal blood did nothing for his thirst, and he wasn't skilled enough yet to drink from people without going overboard and killing them — or getting dangerously close to it.

The best you could come up with was nabbing a sip from folks who'd just kicked the bucket, but that meant finding fresh corpses without drawing any heat, and that was easier said than done. Maybe for him, it was a walk in the park, but for you, a regular human, helping him sneak into hospitals and morgues after dark was a recipe for disaster. Dave didn't want you caught up in the mess, or worse, in jail, because of him.

In the end, offering up your blood was the easier fix if he didn't want to go full-on vampire and start killing people. It was the one way he could hold onto a tiny shred of his former human self. At the beginning, it was rough on him, no doubt about it. You watched him suffer, saw how terrified he was of losing control.

But with time, he toughened up. After the initial shock wore off, his thirst started to chill out. Nowadays, he only needed a sip every week. You knew that if he was doing things the "old-school" vampire way, he'd be guzzling down a whole human's worth of blood every couple of months, but this was the sanest workaround you could come up with to keep the body count at zero.

You were cool with it, as long as he stuck around. As long as you knew he was okay.

At first, he used to nibble on your wrist for a meal. But after just a few weeks, he upgraded to the neck. It was smoother for him and more comfortable for you, too. Better access, and if you ever got woozy from the blood loss, he could keep you steady. But having him that close? Well, that was... let's say, unsettling. Sure, maybe he wasn't human anymore, but it didn't mean your feelings for him had just vanished. In fact, being the only tie he had to his old human self just made those feelings kick it up a notch.

"Your heart's pounding," he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours. You gulped hard, cursing how damn close you were, and how he could practically read your body like a book. After drinking your blood, his lips and cheeks had acquired a subtle pinkish tint, and his once warm, brown eyes had turned into this oddly beautiful shade of red.

"You freak me out," you fibbed, the excuse tumbling out in a rush but full of stubbornness. He grinned at your words, a playful glint in his eye.

"Do I now?" he teased, giving your hip a gentle squeeze as he pulled you closer. His chilly skin pressed against yours, sending shivers up your spine. He nuzzled your neck, his tongue brushing against your tender skin, making you whimper. "You know, they never spill this secret before they turn you – you can smell fear. And the scent of fear... it's something else. But you, you're not afraid of me, even though you probably should be."

"Why?" you breathed out, doing your best to shove aside the way your heart was practically doing a drum solo now. In the good old days, back when he was just human, you'd daydreamed about this like there was no tomorrow. To be this close to him, to feel his lips upon your skin. But now, with him all changed up, being this near wasn't anything like what you'd pictured.

"I could kill you right here, drain you dry," he growled, and you let out a little whimper as he bit down again, pulling you close and setting you down on the bed. His bite gradually turned into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You had to muffle a moan with your hand when he started sipping from your neck, taking even more of your blood. He backed off, fingers gripping your chin, making you meet his gaze. He studied your flushed face, lips slightly parted, eyes bleary. "And yet you like this. Why?"

"I dunno," you breathed out, shakily. You let out another whimper as he pressed his body against yours, his grip on your hair firm as he locked eyes with you, a fiery intensity in his gaze that revved up your heartbeat. You gasped in shock when he kissed you, his tongue diving into your mouth, the taste of your own blood making your head spin. You tugged at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer like it was out of your control, and he let out a soft laugh against your lips.

"I can smell desire, too, you know?" he mentioned, his hand sneaking under your pants and tracing along the edge of your panties, sending shivers down your spine. You opened your mouth, caught off guard, your face turning all shades of red, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever with him. How could he read you like a book? You hated this new side of him, the side you didn't know how to deal with, the side that fully understood the power he had over you.

The side of him that enjoyed it.  

"Dave, we shouldn't be crossing this line," you managed to whisper, and he let out a grunt.

"We've already crossed so many lines," he argued. "Plus, I owe you. Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

"I don't want us doing this just because you think you owe me," you frowned, and he huffed in response. You licked your lower lip, a fresh tension building between your legs. Even though you were still pissed at how he could see right through you, it wasn't like you didn't want this. "You can have whatever you want from me, no need to ask. As long as it's you..."

"No," he grumbled. "Don't say it like that, like I mean something to you. I'm a damn monst—"

"Oh, shut up," you whispered, cutting him off, and he gave you a puzzled look. Sure, he might be a whole new version of Dave from the one you used to know, but did it even matter? "You're not a monster. You got turned, yeah, but you're still you . And I'd give you anything, Dave, even if you were still human. That's how it's always been. I just..."

Your words trailed off as his lips crashed into yours again, his chilly hands gripping your waist firmly, and you couldn't help but let out a muffled moan.

"I wanna eat you whole," he groaned. "If you only knew how your heart races when I lay my eyes on you. It's driving me wild. If I'd known you felt like this sooner..."

"You know now," you whispered. His gaze locked onto yours, carrying a mix of anger, sadness, and something else. Something intense and deep that made your stomach twist and your skin tingle. Something that made you feel like he could have his way with you — and you'd let him.

"You're not exactly making this easy," he muttered, his voice low. You let out a nervous chuckle. You'd always pictured this — his body and yours, tangled up in your bed. In your fantasies, he was still human and madly in love with you. Was he in love with you now? Or did he only love how human you still were? How you stood by him even after his life had taken a nosedive and changed forever?

Did any of that really matter?

"I don't want easy," you replied, trailing your fingertips along his collarbone, slow and deliberate. You pulled him closer, your lips nearly brushing against his. You could feel his breath on your skin as he held you, making your heart race faster. "Everything's already a damn mess. If you wanna eat me whole, then just go ahead and do it."

He let out a deep groan as he yanked you closer, urgently, his hands roaming your body eagerly as you both stripped off your clothes. The room was dark, with only moonlight to guide you; his pale skin was smooth, soft against your naked form as his lips trailed all over you. You couldn't help but let out a throaty moan as he peppered you with kisses, drawing you closer and closer to him.

"Dave..." you hid your face in his hair as he teased your breast, biting down gently and leaving a trail of purple marks across your skin. He let out a low groan in response, grinding his hips against yours before pulling back slightly, looking deep into your eyes. He looked beautiful, supernatural; otherworldly strange, and that only made you love him even more. You wrapped your hand around his cock, using his precum as lubricant as you swiped your thumb over the tip in a slow, circular motion. He closed his eyes, grinding his hips against you as he let out your name in a strained moan. “Please, Dave, let me make you feel good.” you whispered. It was all you'd ever wanted, really — to serve him, to give him everything he craved and needed.

To be his, forever.

Dave moaned your name again, his strong arms pulling you close. You tangled your hands in his hair and locked your lips with his once more. His tongue dove into your mouth, kissing you with a fiery intensity. You wondered if it felt different for him now that he could sense the warmth of your blood, hear your heart racing, and smell how he was setting your body on fire.

He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he kept kissing you. He let out a grunt when your lips traveled to his ear and then down his neck. You bit and sucked on his exposed skin while he dug his fingers into your hair, your lips and tongue exploring his chest, his stomach, his thighs.

And then his cock.

You started on his tip, your tongue slowly licking on it, pressing and rubbing it against your lips, tasting him leisurely. You raised your eyes to look at Dave; he looked back at you, his eyes bleary and out of focus as one of his hands grabbed a fistful of your hair. He wrapped his hand around his cock’s base, pressing it against your lips, and you opened your mouth obediently, welcoming him into your mouth.

“You’re so warm.” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his body tensing up as you moved your head slowly, up and down, the taste of his skin invading your mouth. He panted, bucking his hips forward. “You feel so good. Wanna cum inside your pretty mouth, oh fuck…” 

You whimpered as he started moving his hips, tears filling your eyes as he pushed your head down on his cock. He groaned, his grip on your hair growing tighter as he took control of you, pushing it slowly until you had all his length inside your mouth. He then pulled it out, rubbing the tip against your lips before he pushed again, and again, until he was moving in a steady rhythm inside your mouth. 

“Look at me.” he grunted, and you tried your best to raise your teary eyes and look at him. He groaned when his eyes met yours. You were trying your best to keep breathing while allowing him to fuck your mouth harder and harder. Your throat was growing sore as your pussy throbbed. You were such a mess. You were so happy. He needed you. You loved him. He was yours then, his lips parted as he moaned your name and his cock ravaged your throat, all control you both could have had in that moment forgotten as he arched his hips forward and moved faster, and harder, and… “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-Oh, shit!” he cried out as he came inside your mouth. You did your best to swallow it, the bitter taste lingering on your mouth as he let go of your hair, his breath uneven as his eyes closed. 

You sat down in front of him, trying your best to clean up the mix of semen and drool that ran down your chin. He gazed at you, his red eyes shining in the dim room, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His ginger hair was like copper against his pale, bare skin; you were never gonna grow tired of how stunning he looked.

"Get over here," he murmured, pulling you closer. You settled onto his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as he nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He kissed your neck slowly, then moved up to give your earlobe a gentle nip, and you let out a sigh, shutting your eyes.

"Dave..." you whispered, a hint of pleading in your tone. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he continued to lavish your neck, jaw, and collarbones with kisses.You were miserably wet, your pussy aching as you felt his cock grow hard once more against your thigh.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”he whispered in your ear, and a soft moan escaped your lips as he grabbed your ass firmly. You pressed your body against his, burying your hands in his hair as you ground your hips together.

“Oh, fuck.” you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes again. Your whole body was aflame against his cold skin, fire and ice melting together. Your heart was pounding as he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, holding your ass firmly. He grunted when you moved your hips eagerly, holding you into place and preventing you from sitting on his cock. “Dave…”

"You're gonna have to ask nicely," he whispered, his voice deep and alluring, like a predator who knew his prey couldn't escape. He whispered your name, his tone surprisingly tender, and you let out a sigh, your cheeks growing warm as he gripped your neck, his fingers urging your face to meet his gaze. "Tell me what you want."

“I want you to fuck me.” you pleaded, and he laughed at how easily he could command you. He was having fun, drunk in his power and in you, the sweet smell of your hair, of your blood, the warmth of your skin. It was inebriating, how completely surrendered to him you were. How fragile, and warm, and wanting. 

How human.

"Say please," he teased, a sly grin playing on his lips. You let out an exasperated groan.

"You're messing with me."

"Am I?" he pressed the tip of his cock harder against your entrance, and you whimpered when he penetrated you with his tip for just a bit before pulling out. “Tell me what you want.” he commanded, and you couldn't muster the strength to resist him any longer.

“Please, fuck me.” you pleaded, and he laughed before pulling you closer. You moaned as you felt his cock enter you, adjusting to his size as he pushed slowly. You gasped when he put it all inside, the tip of his cock hitting the sweetest spot inside of you. It felt so, so good. He was going so, so slow. It was maddening, you were on fire, you felt whole for the first time in forever. 

You started moving, slowly at first, but then setting into a steady pace as he held you close, burying your face in his hair. You were sure you were dying, drunk on the smell of his body and the feel of his cold skin against yours, but you couldn’t care less. It was like poison, feeling his cock thrusting deep inside of you as you moved up and down and he whispered your name, his voice strained as he moaned with you and held you so tight it felt almost as if he would break you. 

You didn’t care; you were his now. You were bonded to him. You were his.

You moaned his name as he started rubbing your clit, your pace growing faster as he pushed harder inside you. You were shaking, your legs were burning as you rode his cock; it felt like heaven. You whimpered when he slapped your ass, burying his nose on your neck and then biting on your skin, tasting your blood once again as you bounced on him. 

You knew he was close, too; his grip on your skin tightened as he pulled away, blood trickling down his chin as he looked deep into your eyes and you moaned louder and louder, your tits bouncing up and down as you chased your high, holding on to him like your life depended on it. 

“Dave, you feel so good. Dave, oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Dave… ” you moaned, words growing irrational and senseless as your pussy started contracting slowly. He moaned, praising you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear — how you were such a good girl. How you tasted so good, how you felt so tight around his cock, how good it felt to be inside of you. You cried out as your orgasm took every little bit of control you had left, making your whole body contract and shake. 

Dave grunted, holding you close as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, sweet, lovely words leaving his lips like honey, taking you over the edge again, and again, and again, and now he was coming too, his thick semen filling you to the brim as his thrusts grew sloppier. You buried your face in his hair, allowing him to take his cock out of you, your pussy still throbbing with pleasure, feeling suddenly faint. 

"Oh, God," you whispered, and you could feel Dave's quiet laughter beneath you more than you could hear it as he held you close. "I think I might pass out."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he whispered, panting, and you weakly chuckled. "You lost a lot of blood. I shouldn't have taken so much."

“I think I’d be okay if you weren’t fucking me while doing it.” you grumbled, and he laughed again. His fingers traced along your back, and you sighed contentedly as he lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the bed and lying down beside you. You opened your eyes, studying his face, taking in everything that made him who he was. He looked more like the old, human Dave than ever before, with the vulnerability he showed, that old beautiful smile on his lips, and a touch of cockiness that only made him more endearing. “What’s making you smile?”

"I love you," he said. You blinked, your lips parting slowly. For someone who prided yourself on not being easily surprised, you found yourself caught off guard by him quite often.

"I love you too," you managed to whisper with a giggle. He smiled and pulled you closer.

"I know. I've known for a while," he said, pressing his index finger against your chest. You blushed when you realized how fast your heart was beating. "See? It's so loud I'm surprised you can't hear it."

"Oh, shut up, you freak," you whispered, and he laughed. You studied his face, running your fingertips softly along his lower lip. "I'm kidding. You're not a freak. But I am. I'm in love with a damn vampire."

"Do you care?" he asked, a slight hint of worry in his voice. You smiled and shook your head.

"Hell no, Mustaine."

"Then it's all good."

"Yeah."

"As long as we're together," he whispered, and you smiled, knowing that nothing had changed after all. You knew you could always count on him; he knew he could always count on you.

You were bonded.

You were his.

#i'm finally back to writing yay!! #ada writes fanfiction #megadeth #dave mustaine #megadeth smut #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth x reader #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine reader #dave mustaine x you #megadeth x you #this is actually my first time writing a reader insert lol #but i actually enjoyed it quite a bit! #might write more in the future who knows!!