➵ 𝐇𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆:

𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕: ☾

𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇: ✿

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕: ❥

𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖔𝖉𝖆𝖎𝖗

𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓

𝔴𝔦𝔭 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝒐𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕... 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 1/2

☾✿

summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷, 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷, 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 (a sequel series)

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13

☾❥✿

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓲𝓮, 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓻𝔂, 𝓘'𝓶 𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯𝓯, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮, 𝓷𝓸, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧 ( the end of the trilogy)

1/2/3/4/5/6

☾❥✿

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

𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪, 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻? 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼? 𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓲𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓱𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓶 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓭, 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝓮?

𝔬𝔫𝔢-𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰

𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 (requested)

✿

summary: after winning your games you're thrust into a new scene of capitol luxury and parties. in the midst of the gowns, and masquerade masks you meet someone who you instantly feel sparks go off for, victor finnick odair.

𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓰𝓸 𝓘'𝓶 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴, 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝔀𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼, 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓰𝓸 𝓘'𝓶 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴, 𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓮𝓵𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

☾

summary: finnick's cycle of self destruction stops for no one, even if it tears the two of you apart, but you refuse to fade into the past.

𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭'𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓪𝓾𝓷𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩

❥

summary: finnick can't stop himself from an endless day of teasing leaving you frustrated with an itch only he can scratch

𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂'𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷' 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓘'𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷' 𝓽𝓸, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂'𝓼 𝓯𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓳𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓮, 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝔀, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽, 𝓼𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱, 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽

𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚 (requested)

✿ ❥

summary: you and finnick had never confessed your feelings, but after you've been rescued from the Capitol, you both realize it's time to talk about the unspoken

𝓘'𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓬, 𝓘'𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰, 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰, 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭. 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭. 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮, 𝓸𝓱 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 (requested)

✿☾

summary: you and finnick are meant to be together even if neither of you noticed all the signs.

𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮. 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓼 𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓮𝓮? 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴, 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮

☾

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

𝓘 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓴𝓲𝓷 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓭𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭? 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮? 𝓸𝓱, 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷? 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙚 (requested)

❥

summary: you and finnick have always had an irresistible pull towards one another

𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝔂 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓪 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓪𝓷 𝓾𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮, 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓪 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓮

𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨 (requested)

✿☾

summary: after you win your games you've become more closed off and untrusting, but hidden away in the corner of a Captiol party fate leads you straight to your soulmate.

𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓮'𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓾𝓷 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽, 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓫 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹 𝓲𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼, 𝔀𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝔁𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓻𝓾𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓾𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓘, 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧!𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 (requested) ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 ☾

finnick and black cat!partner ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 (requested) ✿

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 (requested) ✿

𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔠.

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 (𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣)

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 (𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣)

MASTER LIST

Started: July 7, 2023 Last updated: August 28, 2024

I write for:

The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, Shadowhunters, the MCU, the Hunger Games series, and Criminal Minds. I may also write for Fate: The Winx Saga, Cobra Kai, Grey's Anatomy, 13rw, Gossip Girl, and Riverdale (even tho I have no idea what's happening in that show anymore). I typically write fem!reader-insert fics, but you might see a ship once in a while. Crossovers may happen. Btw, I add angst to like everything. Straight-up fluff is rare.

a/n: just wanted to let everyone know that requests are open rn, but that might change once summer's over. i update this list every time i post.

Klaus Mikaelson

The Tribrid You're Klaus Mikaelson's long-lost daughter that he has no idea about, yet somehow you still find yourself getting entangled in the New Orleans wars, both with the city and then with your own family. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Should've Known Better After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. 1 2

Stefan Salvatore

Coming soon

Damon Salvatore

Coming soon

Elijah Mikaelson

Coming soon

Katherine Pierce

Coming soon

Kai Parker

Coming soon

Elena Gilbert

idk y'all but i had an idea so we'll see ab this one

Steve Rogers

Coming soon

Bucky Barnes

Coming soon

Natasha Romanoff

Coming soon

Tony Stark

Coming soon

Peter Parker (T.H.)

Coming soon

Alec Lightwood

Coming soon

Jace Herondale

Coming soon

Finnick Odair

Our Song and Dance You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. 1 2 3 4 5 6

Aaron Hotchner

What's in a Name? 5 times you and Agent Hotchner questionably cross paths over the years, just for him to watch you walk away (+1 time you don't). The Grey Area You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. (a/n: very scandal based). Series Masterlist

Derek Morgan

Coming soon

Spencer Reid

Coming soon

Emily Prentiss

Coming soon

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

twelve days of kinkmas

【13th to 24th of December.】

note: this is 18+ content. nsfw. very kinky stuff y’all. please practice safe, consensual sex okay mom.

all tom holland x fem!reader unless indicated otherwise. (some may be toms characters)

⋯

day 1 ↠ face fucking, spit play + face slapping.

day 2 ↠ pain kink, masochism + choking.

day 3 ↠ impact play + overstimulation.

day 4 ↠ bondage + manhandling. w/ college!peter parker

day 5 ↠ humiliation, degradation + thigh riding. w/ fratboy!tom

day 6 ↠ exhibitionism + mirror sex. 

day 7 ↠ spanking, praise + facial w/ professor!tom

day 8 ↠ breeding kink, rough + cockwarming. w/ mob!tom

day 9 ↠  dom/sub dynamics, ass play + anal sex.

day 10  ↠ voyeurism, toy usage + edging w/ boxer!tom

day 11 ↠ sub!tom, praise kink + pegging.

day 12 ↠ threesome w/ harrison osterfield.

MY BOYFRIEND WILL KICK YOUR ASS !

- fushiguro megumi x reader

it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?

genre: tw: street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !

note: i miss my emo boi :(

general masterlist

“Stay back!”

This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.

“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”

“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”

“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.

“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”

It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?

Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.

"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"

Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."

It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.

And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.

Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."

He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that."

It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—

"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."

Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:

"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"

—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.

You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?

Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.

You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?

"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"

"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"

These guys were straight-up perverts!

"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"

You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.

In hindsight, a stupid move—

You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—

"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.

You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.

"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?

"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"

You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—

"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."

At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—

You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.

"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"

Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"

The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.

"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.

"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"

Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."

If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.

And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.

Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.

Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.

You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."

"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."

Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.

And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions since last week."

You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.

"I was so tired; that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time." Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.

"You never told me," you pointed out.

"Yeah, uh, sorry..." he winced. "It's so... lame. I got so exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know."

"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"

As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.

Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.

When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.

"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.

"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"

You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."

You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."

"You..." Megumi rose from the ground, raising an eyebrow. Unintentionally, he cracked a smile at your daring remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."

He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."

Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."

He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."

“Huh? But you don’t like them?”

“You like those sugary dump, don’t you?”

Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.

“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your intertwined hand joyfully. “And you really did~”

“What are you talking about…?”

And yet, Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

--

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

--

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

--

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

--

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

Alpha!Bakugo, who spotted you and immediately recognised you as his omega: Katsuki hoped for your sake that no other alpha was foolish enough to try courting you.

Alpha!Bakugo, whose overprotective nature flares up at the mere sight of you, his mate, in close proximity with someone else. The annoyance and possessiveness surge within him – a declaration that you're unequivocally his, and nobody else has any business laying a finger on you.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's the possessive powerhouse, and takes pleasure in physically asserting that you are exclusively his. With his bulky arms draped around your shoulders, he's not shy about hugging, kissing, or even giving a playful smack to emphasize the point. In Bakugo's world, no one should dare look at you suggestively, let alone touch—you're unmistakably his, and he's more than happy to flaunt it.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's unleashing a low growl when you dare to trespass into his den unannounced, asserting his territorial dominance.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's on the brink of needing a muzzle to restrain the primal urge to mark you. His sharp, eager teeth practically ache with the desire to sink into your soft, firm skin, and he's visibly shaking as he battles to keep the feral impulses in check.

Alpha!Bakugo, reveling in the fact that he was your first partner and took it upon himself to school you in every aspect. To say he was thrilled would be a gross understatement - he practically owned the podium of satisfaction.

Alpha!Bakugo, who hits monthly ruts that conveniently sync up with your heat, creating a combustible synergy between you two, maximizing the likelihood of you getting bred with his pups.

Alpha!Bakugo, who's gripping your hips like he owns the universe while eating your pussy out. The flavor of your cunt is intoxicating, fogging his brain.

Alpha!Bakugo, who loves it when you give him head. He keeps his grip on the back of your head, switching between affectionate petting and insistent cues, all while encouraging you to take more of his throbbing cock in that eager mouth of yours. "Yeah, yeah, puppy, just like that, suck daddy's cock like a little whore you are."

Alpha!Bakugo, finding immense pleasure in watching you swallow his cum. A deep, approving growl rumbles in his chest as you swallow his seed.

Alpha!Bakugo, thoroughly enjoying creampies thanks to his colossal breeding kink. The prospect of filling you up with his thick seed and getting you pregnant with his pups is enough to make him purr and shiver in delighted anticipation.

Alpha!Bakugo, who cums deep within you and skillfully ruts his hips further in yours, ensuring that any escaping drop of his precious seed is purposefully pushed back into your womb.

Alpha!Bakugo, who, one day, catches a whiff of the change in your scent, notices it growing thicker, leaving him puzzled. Is there something amiss? Is it a sign of illness?

Alpha!Bakugo, who beams with pride and happiness the moment you reveal that you're expecting his puppies. The news fills him with a sense of accomplishment and a triumphant glow.

Marauders and Lightning Era Masterlist

started - 08.13.2024

last updated - 02.12.2025

Credit for Dividers

All triggers and small summaries listed in the fanfiction

Matured audience advised

Random fic ideas

Faceclaims

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Summary: Sirius falls for his most recent hook up, and she refuses to cave to what she wants}

-Fix it Yourself (All the Angst, lil comfort) +18

Summary: Falling in love with James Potter was a whirlwind affair full of lies and heartbreak. Everything comes to a head when he asks you to fake date someone so Lily will give him a chance.

-Like my father {Blurb}

Summary: Reader wants a man to love her like her father loves her mom. She just hasn't met him yet.. maybe.

-Kiss And Make-Up

Summary: Pool side at the Potters, Sirius takes you for a swim.

-Rock 'n Roll

Summary: Sirius stays home with a hangover, but the reader is always there to lend a hand.

-Just thinking about Sirius testing tattoo ideas on you...

-Self Fulfilling Prophecy

Summary: Potters love like it's a sport, but it seems that only a Black can challenge that.

FRED WEASLEY

-Summer Talks

Summary: Fred lets you know what he's waiting for

-Too Much Like Me

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

-Burning Bright, Falling Hard

Summary: Fred Weasley and you share a quiet moment in your room

HERMIONE GRANGER

-Invisible (Lil Angsty, basically just fluff) Blurb

Summary: Reader is a bit of a punk like Sirius, with Remus's insecurities. She doesn't believe she deserves a girl like Hermione. No real plot just Angst straight into fluff

MATTHEO RIDDLE

-But daddy I love him (Lil Angst, fluff)

Summary: Harry finds out his sister is dating Mattheo Riddle Ft. James, Lily, Remus, Sirius - No war au }

" Dinner Party " (Pt 2)

Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family} Wc- 4142

-King's Gambit

Summary: You go to a Ministry gala with your family, meeting and dancing with Mattheo Riddle, who is just looking to cause some trouble,

REGULUS BLACK

-Monarch butterfly (Hurt/comfort) wip

Summary- Monarch butterflies only live for up to six weeks. Their life brings an unspoken joy to the people who witness it, a peaceful feeling to the life that last so much longer then their own. They bring smiles to the faces of children, they bring good luck for those who choose it, they bring so much value to lives they will never truly be a part of. Your butterfly was, and always would be, Regulus black.

BLAISE ZABINI

-Before a Stranger

Summary: Friends before a stranger

I’ve been thinking about a Remus (or ig any ship that includes him?) x metamorphmagus!reader who is always turning into other people in order to mess with people. despite them being very good at acting and visually/audibly indistinguishable from their target, once the moon comes close and his senses are heightened Remus is able to recognize them from scent alone. I also think he’s observant enough that even when his senses are as normal as they can be, he is able to notice little ticks and habits that break through the disguise. I don’t think he would ruin their fun, observing and if he isn’t in pain even helping with their mischief.

It’s just such a cute little concept to me, and I think it could be fun to play with, so I would love to see if you can come up with a little Drabble or something about it! Thank you mother ❤️ I love confident and mischievous readers with quiet but enabling characters

this was a cute concept! thanks for the request! also, I didn't intend for this to be Potter!reader, but with the way the story went it ended up feeling like it had to be potter reader hahaha

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader who is a metamorphmagus [800 words]

CW: fem!reader, 'your mama' insults, talking about students getting it on in a broom closet

“Never thought I’d find myself happier to see this Black than the other one.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he sauntered into the library looking innocent for all intents and purposes - but Remus knew better.

“Sod off, Junior.” Sirius sneered back as he glared at the Slytherin from behind his book. 

“Oh, someone’s getting off, I can assure you.” He jeered; a mischievous sparkle shining in his eye giving Remus not nearly enough time to prepare for the coming theatrics. 

“Oh? Could you hear me and your mum last night?” Sirius replied haughtily, turning a page of his book for show. “I’ll try to make sure we’re quieter next time, but she’s a screamer.” 

Barty simply hummed as he dragged a finger across the back of a chair; expression glowing like he was simply loving this. “Are family members not off limits then, Black? Because if that’s the case, someone really ought to tell Reg and Potter that there's no need to be rutting against each other in the third floor broom closet like a couple of ne’er-do-wells.”

Sirius was standing in record time; his chair grating across the floors before landing with a thunk and his book (prop) laying long forgotten.

“You’re not serious.” Sirius spat menacingly, a true testament to how riled up he got over his brother and best friend (even though the two had been publicly dating for almost two months now) that he didn’t even bother censoring himself against the verb form of his name.

“Deadly.” Barty smirked, and that was all it took for Sirius to go racing off into the castle to cause a bigger scene than either Regulus or James had been prior to the announcement of their secret tryst. 

The library returned to its prior volume as Remus watched 'Barty' simply stare after the last place Sirius could be seen. 

“That’s not nice, dove.” Remus chided gently, though he didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he stared back down at his book.

“Whatever do you mean, Lupin?” You sneered back, but you were wearing a beaming smile that told him clearly you knew the ruse was up. 

“James has been trying very hard to make sure he isn’t throwing his relationship with Regulus in Sirius’ face.” Remus explained tiredly, though it was all for show. 

“And James has been making it very hard for me to not want to stab myself with a quill during quidditch practices.” You pouted as you took the seat across from him.

“All this over quidditch drills?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t break his gaze nor the pout of your lips as you added “and he ate the last of my fizzing whizzbees.” 

Remus hummed in understanding. “An egregious crime, certainly.”

“Right? What would you have done if he’d eaten all your chocolate?”

“Nothing short of murder; he’d be out the dormitory window.”

“See, I knew you’d get it.” You replied with a smirk, though your eyes turned soft as you looked him over.

“Be nice to your brother.” He murmured quietly, earning a dramatic groan as you threw your head back in exasperation.

“I don’t have to be nice to him, he’s my brother.” 

“What would your mum say?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair and held his book against his lips to hide the smile on his face.

You groaned again and looked over at him nonplussed. “To be nice to my brother.” You offered back in monotone.

He lowered his book so you could see his beaming smile, causing you to launch forward in an attempt to swipe his book from him only for him to catch your wrist instead.

“How did you even know it was me? I thought I had the impression down pat.” You murmured quietly, face now inches from his.

“You certainly look like Junior.” Remus conceded as he gave you a once over. “But he would have never let that comment about his mum fly.”

You let out a bark of laughter that Remus knew to be only yours. “That’s true, I suppose. I’ll do better next time.”

Remus gave you a shake of his head in faux admonishment as he leaned closer to you. “I’ll always recognise my sweet girl.” He murmured, massaging the inside of your wrist that he was holding captive with his thumb. “I’d recognise you by smell alone.” 

Your gaze turned hungry as your eyes flit down to his lips and then back up again. 

But Remus pulled away before you could connect your lips to his.

“Do not kiss me as Barty Crouch Junior.” He deadpanned, causing you to let out raucous laughter that got you more than a few shush’s from surrounding tables before he watched you melt back into yourself.

Remus loved your mischief, but this was by far his favourite version of you.

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?

You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.

regulus black x fem!reader

warnings: smut

“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n” 

His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed.  You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.

“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.

“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”

Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.

“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.

Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. 

It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.

“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”

Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.

You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.

But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.

“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them” 

His eyebrows furrow.

“Why ?” he seems intrigued as the question leaves his lips.

Why, he has the courage to ask.

Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.

They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you. 

They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.

His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.

And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-

“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.

“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.

You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.

Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.

Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.

But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.

“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he cocks a brow as his head tilts slightly.

There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion.

“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.

You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others. 

So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.

This is new, unexpected. 

Interesting.

“Would you like to draw them ?”

Your eyes go wide in surprise.

Wait.

What ?

Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you. 

He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.

You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.

That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.

But why the sudden proposition ?

You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all. 

Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.

But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.

“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.

He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.

He is beautiful. Dangerously so.

“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before”

“I know” 

That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic. 

Just like him.

“So why now ?” 

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.

“Why not ?” he shrugs “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”

There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.

“I’ll get my supplies then” 

You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.

When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.

“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.

“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.

“Where do you need me ?” 

The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.

You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.

“Right there is fine,” you're able to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”

He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins in full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.

“That’s good” your mouth is suddenly dry as you gulp at that sight.

He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to maintain your mental sanity then so be it.

Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.

You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.

“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue. And it’s not a question.

Observant as always.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective” 

“But it’s a problem for the lighting”

Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.

How does he-

“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.

“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”

Your grin turns into a full smile.

“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”

“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.

“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.

There’s a beat of silence.

One second. Two. Three. And then-

“Exactly”

Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.

Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.

The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash. 

He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again. 

“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.

You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.

You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire. 

The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.

So you cave.

“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”

His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.

It’s compelling, hypnotizing even. 

“This is not about what I want, Y/n”

Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied. 

Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows. 

He knows. 

“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.

So what was the point in pretending anymore ?

“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trambling hands move the paper out of the way.

There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.

Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.

It’s his eyes that betray him. 

They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth even did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

They are hungry.

“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.

He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.

“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.

“You seem to know what I want” you murmur breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity. 

Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes. 

You are about to fucking combust.

His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.

“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n” 

Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.

You can’t take it anymore.

You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.

His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

He is restraining himself. From touching you. 

Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.

“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.

“Do what ?” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.

You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.

“Touch me” you beg.

“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.

“Everywhere”

It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake. 

You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.

His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.

You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.

The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.

Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.

“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy. 

You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.

But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore. 

Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.

“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-

Holy shit.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddlle him completely.

“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.

“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.

He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.

“It seems you were busy looking at something else”

His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.

But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.

“Want me to stop ?” his eyes search for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.

“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.

It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.

His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.

He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.

The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.

You nod your head.

“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.

The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.

“Yes” you practically beg.

Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.

“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.

You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.

“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”

A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.

“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.

“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.

But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.

Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.

You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.

And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.

“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.

You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.

“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”

His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry. 

“Ohmygodyes” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he teases, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.

His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.

“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?” 

You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.

It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.

“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.

His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.

You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth, before enveloping it wholly, letting him feed you the taste of his finger.

“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.

The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.

“Reg, fuck, I'm-”

You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his. 

Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.

It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.

The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.

He is a mess.

The hottest mess you have ever seen.

You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.

“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.

“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained. 

“Maybe. But I don’t think I'm the only one” 

The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.

He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.

The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.

“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)

It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.

His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.

“You're sweet” his voice is nothing more than a whisper as his teeth nibble at your lower lip gently.

“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.

“Eager, are we ?” he teases playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”

The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment. 

“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.

“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.

Your eyes widen.

“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.

“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.

“Which might be for the best,” he adds.

“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.

Thank you for reading 💖