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yourdoorisunlocked · 2 months

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I'll Never Meet Another You - Part 1

📺 【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 】📺

𝐀/𝐍: Is that...? Oh my god- It's the sound of another WIP in my endless void of fanfic ideas that managed to see the light of day!! It also means I've added another demon husband to my ✨cOlLeCtIoN✨

So, I'm definitely doing a continuation of this- I was having WAY too much fun writing it.

Enjoy your yandere, stalking, creepy-ass television man! :)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟒𝟏𝟓 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐯, 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴛᴀɴɢᴏ | ᴀᴜᴛᴏʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

. . .

Electricity bounced across clawed, neon-blue fingertips as Vox’s collection of monitors booted up, lining the walls in a cyan-hued excess of the latest tech his company manufactured.

With but a wave of his hand, the devices were slaves to his command.

As Vox sat upon his electronic throne that was centered before it all, he closed every work-related tab within his mental browser, before slumping in his seat within the darkness. The demon rubbed where the bridge of his nose would’ve been with a stressed crease in his brows; a little habit that he had acquired from his life above.

To say it had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century. For the first twelve hours since he had emerged from his quarters, Vox had been bombarded with underlings shoving incessant workloads into his lap.

Ensuring the reputation of the Vees, the new VoxTech Angelic Security system that he had been developing, the countless amount of paperwork and maintaining the digital grid, and to top it all off, he had to manage the temper of one pissed-off Valentino.

Ugh... Fuckin' Val and his goddamn runaways... it's not my fucking fault he can't manage his toys.

Dealing with the lustful moth Overlord's temper tantrums were usually the absolute highlights of Vox's day, but this time in particular there was quite the treat in store for the overworked Overlord.

Hm... Maybe that's how the name came to be. Ah, who am I kidding? Velv just sits on her ass all day.

Of course, Vox pushed his indignation aside and swept everything up with a winning smile of pure showmanship, the pinnacle of excellence in front of the public.

And just as everything seemed to fall into place, like any other day of Vox cleaning up the messes of his fellow Overlords, something just had to go fucking wrong.

Imagine being the literal fucking backbone of the Vees, ensuring that their picture-perfect reputation of utmost excellence and being called up by an irritated Velvet to play babysitter and manage the man-child because of fucking Angel Dust-

And then catching wind of ḧ̴͇͕́̍i̷̡̹͋͂̓m̵͈͔̳̭̙̍͝ returning...

A few sparks flew from Vox's antenna as his overheated fans whirred rapidly. That old timey, triangle-assed p̴̲̩̮͙̜̎́̋r̸͓̟͆̀͆i̸̼͕͓̺̹̪̔͛͊̋͗c̸̢̤̐͂͜k̵̻̭̦̣̪͈̕-̸̢̡̪͇̖̈́...

Slowly, he took a deep breath, stretching his knuckles and tilting his head to the side with a deep frown. He had the evening to himself, now. No Radio-Pricks, no need to maintain the perfect facade he had so carefully crafted for himself and his allies, and no Valentino.

Time to unwind...

A cup of coffee materialized in his hand with a spark of electricity that lingered around his hand, dancing upon his fingers. He scooted just a bit closer to the large, main monitor within the center of TVs installed in his office, and his mental request was immediately answered by the large computer screen before him.

A zipped file containing possibly the most sensitive information that you couldn’t fucking torture out of the television demon happened to be the very first result of his search, almost teasing him with the overtness of his little obsession.

Vox clicked on the file quicker than ever before, and he took a long, slow sip of his drink as he focused solely upon the pretty little blessing that had graced his screens since a few months ago.

You were lounging on your couch, scrolling haphazardly on your phone in your less-than ideal apartment, but hey, it worked for you, so who was Vox to judge? Even if he would've placed you in one of the most mind-bogglingly extravagant penthouses that you'd ever seen in your afterlife, he had no qualms as long as you remained untouched.

And luckily, his position and occupation made it more than easy to ensure that you had no one in particular in mind to take his place.

No matter where you were, or what you were doing, nothing about you remained unseen by Vox, and no stone was left unturned when it came to your private life.

And Vox was always there. Watching. Adoring you through digitally enamored eyes without moving an inch from his seat.

Small, pixelated hearts floated across his interface as you looked through your phone, blessing him with a plethora of reactions. Whether it be with a small pout of your lips, to the furrow of your brows, to that cute giggle-snort you made whenever something seemed funny to you, the electronic Overlord drank it up like red wine from a golden cup glorified by gods themselves.

Lord, Vox had it bad.

Every step you took, every breath you inhaled, every purchase you made, every club or restaurant you went to, your exact order at your favorite diner, your taste in fashion and jewelry, he memorized every fact, photo, and video and saved it all in a private file.

It was Vox's most precious possession, the closest he could ever get to you, for now.

Vox’s smile stretched across his flat-screen face; a neon hue of razor-sharp teeth pulled into a fond simper as the sound of your chiming laughter rang out across his office.

How he wished to capture the sound, perhaps place it into a bottle for him, and only him to hear, your smile a treasure of the rarest quality to keep.

There was no doubt about it, Vox was your number one fan.

More monitors across the room lit up, whether it be with your beautiful face or your soft, angelic singing, there was nothing but you, you...

Y̵̼̜̿o̴̝͕̾ṷ̸̇.̶͈͍̎̔ ̵̟̒̚

Vox hated the idea of having to share this with anyone else. Share you with anyone else. Every time he ended the night like this, he had to fight the urge to steal you away and seat you upon your rightful place, a throne beside his, towering above his empire with no unworthy, sinful eyes to look upon you.

“Huh... I’ve actually always wondered what that ‘Vox’ guy is like in real life...” said demon froze at the sound of his name pouring from your lips, and a soft blush mixed with the bright blue glow of his face, coloring it a light lavender pink. You were talking to yourself again, something Vox binged like a talk show whenever he was off work.

He could watch you all day like this. And God knows that he would massacre any number of demons, conquer any area of territory simply for a few minutes in your presence.

A casual conversation, witty banter, fuck, he'd rather talk about the goddamn weather with you than be deprived of your presence any longer. Not behind a screen, but in person.

Vox needed something, anything with you, romantic or platonic, though the former would surely grow an insatiable craving, if you kept teasing him like this.

He needed you to be there for him, to just treat him like a person.

Vox normally wouldn't mind the fact that he was always perfecting himself for others, catering to their every desire. A machine. Meant to serve the masses, and in turn, they'd fall to their feet before him like flies to honey, insatiable, pathetic worms.

But it'd drive anyone to the brink of fucking insanity, to keep up the same, cheery yet suave charade every draining day.

And with you? Even if you never knew about your secret admirer’s ever-prying eyes watching your every step, it felt like Vox didn't need to put on a show for you. He could simply watch and listen as you, sweet, mischievous, lovable you talked his ears off for the rest of his day.

What I'd give to just kiss the hell out of her-

“Heh, he’s actually kind of cute. Y’know, for a TV, I guess...” you giggled at the end of your sentence as you scrolled through more photos of him, drinking up every piece of content that featured the demon that was watching you through your camera.

A little side-menu of exactly what you had been looking through immediately popped up, and an intense zapping noise from above signaled to Vox that, once again, the demon was two seconds away from overheating and having to reboot himself as he nearly spit out his hot drink.

Vox nearly short-circuited in his seat as you smiled warmly down at your phone, directly into his eyes as his cold, mechanical heart pounded in his chest, and bright red spread across his screen like a virus.

“Oh... Ohoho...”

“Now that’s good television...”

. . .

End Notes: Ok, holy SHIT-

I really like this one. Like GODDAMN this was so fun to write!! I'll definitely be doing headcanons for yandere Hazbin Hotel very soon. Also, that A03 shit I just pulled at the end? You're welcome ;)

Btw I'm working on my Masterlist, so if anyone has requests or drabbles that they'd like to enter, don't be afraid to ask! I think I'll make some rules clear later, like no EXTREME asks or kinks or anything like that.

Smut is on the table though don't be afraid lmao. I'll be the one shaking in my boots when I'm about to post it- 😓

Anyway, thanks for reading!! See you next time✨

#vox x reader #vox x you #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere vox x reader #obssesion #he is literally a tv #like actually #but hes kinda babygirl so-#tw stalking #possessive behavior #yourdoorisunlocked

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sluttywoozi · 8 months

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Step By Step | jww x reader

Rating: M | WC: ~1.3k

Finally, you and Wonwoo are married. Now if only you knew anything about what's waiting for you in his Royal Quarters.

Notes: royalty!au, unspecified time period it's in the past that's all i can say, wine and food mention, suggestive, talking about sex before sex, breeding kink

You look over at your new husband, your new Prince, and feel your heart flood with love and exhilaration. You’re not used to being able to look at Wonwoo, or be near him, or feel his warmth at your side and breath in his soothing, clean scent. But now and, well, forever, you can.

In the year leading up to this wedding feast, you’ve exchanged countless letters. They contained all sorts of communication: inside jokes, embarrassing stories, the details of the day to day, and, of course, expressions of love and sometimes even lust. It was a long twelve months but you’re grateful you were able to get to know your betrothed, as many aren’t afforded that opportunity prior to being wed.

Perhaps you don’t recognize a lot of his mannerisms or know what the smile he’s sending you now means, but you do know a good amount about him. You know he can’t see without his glasses. You know he sneaks out of the castle nearly every night to feed the stray cats that populate the grounds. You know he loves to read and can’t get enough of just about any kind of game you can bring to mind.

You know he’s a kind, soft soul, and that the first thing he did when you were matched was find out your favorite things so he could become familiar with them. You know he had his quarters redone to suit your tastes, and that he had your most beloved flowers planted in the garden right outside, and that he hosted your cook for a week so his could learn all of the recipes that bring you comfort.

And you know that he loves you.

He signed every letter with ‘Yours, Wonwoo,’ and wrote things like, “My heart aches with an emptiness only your presence can fill,” and even plainly relayed his feelings for you when you asked him if this was love.

You’re lucky, to be sure, to have such a man as Wonwoo for your husband.

You’re also becoming increasingly impatient. The feast has been dragging on forever, it seems, and you aren’t certain how much longer you can take the secret smile on your husband’s handsome face. You wish you knew what he was thinking but his mind remains unclear to you, as does the look in his eyes.

It’s a relief when Wonwoo stands and declares the celebrations finished for the night, taking your hand in his and bowing in sync to your retreating guests as the hall slowly empties. He doesn’t let go, immediately turning to the side and all but racing from the room with you nearly running to keep up.

Your heart pounds as he pulls you down the winding halls of his castle, the route unfamiliar and confusing to you though you wonder if that has something to do with the thoughts beginning to cloud your mind.

You know where you’re going, and what you’ll be doing when you get there, and you can’t claim to be indifferent to the idea. The night of your covenant is something that’s been occupying your mind since you saw Wonwoo for the first time at your betrothal party, and each step brings you closer to discovering what exactly he has in store for you.

Your mother had told you a bit of what to expect, but not with any sort of detail or true instruction beyond, “Lay back and let him do the work.” You’re not the sort to lay back and let a man do anything, not even your husband, and you hope he’ll be amenable to that.

You’ll find out soon enough as you near what can only be his quarters, the doors too broad and ornate to lead to much else. He pushes up his specs with a shaky hand before nodding to the guards on either side and turning to grin shyly at you while the doors are pulled open.

You can’t contain the gasp that escapes as you take in his room for the first time, the expansive space filled with natural light and your favorite colors. There’s a roaring fire in the hearth and the walls are lined with bookcases, the tomes looking much worse for wear than one would expect from a prince, though for your prince, they make perfect sense.

The bed makes you stop in your tracks, the sheer magnitude of it overwhelming to the eye, and you watch Wonwoo’s cheeks pink as you bend down to run your hand over the silky looking covers.

“Will you tell me what we’ll do? Step by step?” You ask, sitting gingerly on the edge and looking up at him. He gapes at you for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if he’s not sure how to respond, before he takes a seat next to you and rests your entwined hands on your thigh.

“First, we’ll undress and lay down together. I want you to be comfortable with me, with all of this, so until you’re relaxed, we can just kiss, and get accustomed to being close to each other. When you’re ready, I’ll touch you-”

“Where?” Your eyes are caught on his lips, the way they form around letters and syllables is so very distracting to you though you somehow manage to hear every single word that leaves them.

He sucks in a deep breath before speaking, seemingly steeling himself to respond, “Between your thighs. Have you ever touched yourself there before?”

“Once,” you whisper, “The night that we met.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Yes. Do you ever…?”

“Only the night that we met and every night since.”

His voice sounds hushed, like if he speaks too loud he’ll disturb the bubble you’ve found yourselves in. You can’t deny the effect it has on you, the unfamiliar heat you felt that night rushing into you once again. His words certainly don’t help, the idea of him touching himself to the thought of you even more intoxicating than the wine you shared at dinner.

“I’ll touch you there, until you’re wet and ready for me, and then I’ll be able to push inside of you. I’ll go slowly so you don’t feel any pain, and if you ever want to stop, all you have to do is tell me.”

You can’t even imagine what it will be like to be joined with him so intimately, but you already want it, want him, more than words can say.

“This will be my first time as well, and I’ll do my best to make sure you reach your peak before I do. I’ve done a lot of reading, and there were… diagrams… and I think I’ll be able to do it,” he vows, his ears red and his eyes avoiding yours.

“Peak?”

“Yes, there’s a, um, height of pleasure that we can both experience, though yours presents differently than mine. When I release, it will take root inside of you, and that’s how we’ll make our heir.”

Our heir.

The words send a zip of lightning down your spine, the idea of him leaving part of himself in you tantalizing and the thought of that part growing into a human that’s both you and Wonwoo even more so. You’re starting to feel an emptiness you don’t recognize, a burning between your thighs that you fear can only be quelled by Wonwoo, and suddenly the feeling of his hand in yours isn’t enough.

You want to feel more of him, feel him touch you, feel him inside of you, just like he said.

“When can we begin?”

“Whenever you’d like, my love.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

My Masterlist

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nohoney · 1 year

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you and bakugou were just strangers at a party hosted by mutual friends, meeting at approximately a quarter past ten. he met you through denki, pulling you up right in front of him and giving him a hardy slap on his back to talk to a pretty girl, something that he’d normally avoid but he was too drunk to really give a second thought about it. denki then just abandons you to talk with bakugou in favor of a game of kings cup but there’s no issue from you. “so… lame party right?”

“couldn’t agree more.”

he sips slowly on his drink since he’s got to drive himself back home later on and you seem to hold yourself pretty well with your own tolerance. truthfully you were hoping to get fucked up when you arrived to the party but talking with a collected guy like bakugou made you decide to hold back. after all if this were to go in a good direction then you’d like to be in the best state possible for it to not be a regret. you were beyond uninhibited drunk sex since you had an embarrassing incident last year. you want this guy to like you so no drunk shenanigans will be made so that you give him a good impression.

he has all your attention and you take up all of his.

it’s a half hour passed midnight when sleepiness begins to kick in for him.

bakugou is a little embarrassed to audibly yawn but this was way past his past bedtime and he pushed back his leave time to continue being in your company. “you should stay up, i wanna keep flirting.” you purr to him with a hopeful look in your eye.

trust him, he wants nothing more than that too but fuck he hates that he’s reaching his limit. he’ll just ask for your number and be on his way; he’s sure that this will culminate into something. “i’m not looking to pass out here. my bed is way better.” and then he’s about to lead off with asking for your number when you make the move on him.

“oh is it? can you show me?”

his eyes look over the party members that still remain, a good portion of them still so lively while others are looking a little bit more wind down. his cup is set down and he takes yours to set right next to his, taking your hand in his and walking out the front door with no intention of saying bye to anyone.

the time reads one in the morning by the time you and him make it to his room and it’s almost three by the time you and him actually pass out from the exertion of him fucking you into his mattress.

and when you wake at nine in the morning with sunshine warming through the bedroom window, you’re alone in bed but there’s a handwritten note from bakugou on the lamp on your side.

‘be back at 9:30, picking up breakfast for us. coffee is ready for you.’

by ten, a whole twelve hours later since he first met you, he’s already planning to see you again as he spreads some pomegranate jam on a freshly baked croissant for you.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 4 months

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The Holidays are Better With You - S.Snape

Summary - The potions master and the muggle studies professor are missing during dinner on Christmas Eve. A certain cat animagus takes it upon herself to find the pair, only to find the two of them enjoying some quality time in the Astronomy Tower.

Word Count - 617

Warnings - female reader, use of Y/N, Minerva is the last one to find out a secret

Author's Note - This is a little later than I wanted but welcome to day Twelve! All of my classwork is done so I am free from college until my winter class starts. I have 8 days of freedom to try and write as much as I can so stay tuned and enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

Severus Snape, even just the name of the man would send a shiver down any students’ spine. However, these students never knew the man he was deep down, the man he buried because of countless trauma and heartache. The other professors knew who he actually was because most of them taught him when he was at Hogwarts himself. What they never realized was the fact that he was absolutely smitten with the muggle studies professor.

The two had grown up together, they used to do everything together, even at Hogwarts. Both of them had been sorted into Slytherin, their housemates seeing them in the same corner of the common room more often than not. The two of them still found a way to isolate themselves in a different area, spending time together in the astronomy tower.

As most of the students had returned home, Severus and Y/N had stayed at Hogwarts with the other professors. At dinner on Christmas Eve, Minerva had noticed that the two older Slytherins were missing, so she took it upon herself to go find them. She searched everywhere, her final spot to search was the Astronomy tower. She thought that it was a good time to transform herself into a cat so that way she could be a little more stealthy. Due to her new found stealth, she could walk quieter into the tower where she heard the voices of the two missing professors.

“It’s beautiful up here, with all the snow,” Y/N had said, turning to the man beside her.

“I hate the snow,” He had said, winding his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

“I know you do.”

Minerva quietly approached the pair watching as their lips met. She almost jumped in surprise. “I love you, Severus Snape. Happy Christmas.”

“I love you, Y/N Snape. The holidays are so much better with you,” Severus responded, taking note of a certain cat lurking by their feet, “Minerva, if you wanted to join us, you could have just asked.”

The Gryffindor transformed herself back with a grin on her face. “You’re married! I thought you had a thing for Lily Potter. I would have never guessed that you were infatuated with Y/N,” Minerva exclaimed in surprise.

“It’s always been Y/N. She knows me better than myself," he admitted.

“And he knows me better than myself,” She added in a chipper tone, just happy to be in the arms of her love and chatting with a dear friend. They stood in the tower for hours just talking, more like Minerva asking them questions about their relationship and then answering.

They talked until the moon was high in the sky, the time officially reaching midnight. “I think it’s time to call it a night. Minerva, if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the start of the holiday with my husband. Happy Christmas and goodnight,” Y/N excused herself and her husband as they went off to his quarters. Minerva left at the top of the tower with a gentle smile on her face, feeling a sense of pride for the couple.

The sneaky professor had too decided to turn in for the night, not before mentioning the couple to Sybil and Albus.

“I had predicted and knew about this years ago. Where have you been?” Sybil asked her friend.

“I was their witness when they got married, they needed one and asked me. I’m surprised you didn’t know Minerva. You do tend to know everything and all of the gossip,” Albus chimed in.

“Was I the last to find out? How did I not know about them?”

“You aren’t the last, the students are.”

#harry potter #professor snape #pro snape #snape fanfiction #severus snape #severus snape x reader #snape #snape fandom #severus #severus snape imagine #pro severus snape #severus x reader #pro severus #snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #snape x y/n #snape x you

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nebulablakemurphy · 11 months

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Moves & Countermoves (Part 17)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

“People of Panem, we fight, we-” Katniss freezes, staring at her own reflection. Makeup done, hair styled to perfection, holding up a stick for the camera. This isn’t real. This isn’t war.

“Does she know the line?” Plutarch asks, into the microphone, for all to hear.

“I know it.” Katniss shakes her head to clear it.

“She’s just warming up.” Effie explains. Even she has joined the effort, leaving behind her drab quarters for Katniss.

“Alright, let’s go again. Whenever you’re ready.” Plutarch instructs.

Y/N sways, soothing her tired infant to a sleepy submission on the opposite side of the glass. Daisy May is not fond of sleep, especially with the world bustling around her.

Katniss gets back down on one knee. This is take three.

“Maybe if you show her.” Cashmere whispers to Y/N.

“Might not be a bad idea.” Plutarch watches the mockingjay, with a hand to his head.

“Yeah?” Y/N is willing to try.

“Here,” Cashmere puts her arms out, “gimme the baby.”

Y/N looks down at her daughter, kissing her tiny nose and handing her off.

She fusses for a moment, in Cashmere’s hold.

“Shh,” the blonde coos, allowing the baby to take a fistful of hair. “It’s ok, my Daisy.”

The little girl sighs, closing her grumpy eyes, never letting go of Cashmere’s waves.

“Ok, Katniss, Y/N’s coming in to do a demonstration. Just follow her lead and we’ll go from there.”

“Yeah, ok.” Katniss’ eyes scan the reflective surface, searching for her.

A second later, her mentor pops through the connecting side door. She is not made up, or wearing some crazy outfit, her stylist squeezed her into; she is just Y/N. Somehow that is enough.

“I’m a method actor, obviously.” Loved her fake husband so much that their staged marriage became a real one.

Not that Haymitch is any better. Content to kiss the ground where she walks, if he couldn’t be with her.

The joke lands only with Plutarch and Cashmere. Katniss thinks she understands, but doesn’t find it all that funny.

“First thing’s first, I’m gonna move around a little, get the blood flowing, get that shortness of breath.”

Katniss moves with her, trotting in place like a show horse.

“Good, now we’ll go down on one knee.” Y/N demonstrates and Katniss follows. “Slowly and with some effort, I’m gonna rise to my feet.”

“Because you’ve just been in battle.”

“Exactly,” Y/N smiles, before her features harden.

She is a thousand miles away, just stormed the outskirts of the Capitol. The ease with which she shifts from one to the other terrifies Katniss.

“People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!”

Even with the wind and the stupid stick in Y/N’s hand, raised in the air, Katniss almost believes it. This is the type of person that fuels a rebellion.

She was the people’s victor. She won her own way, same as Haymitch. So Snow manacled them together and scarred them with his brand.

The more Katniss learns about Y/N the more her heart aches, for the indifference she held toward her for so long. To know her is to love her and it’s a shame that not many people ever did.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Plutarch exclaims, “Katniss, now you try it. Just like that.”

“O-ok,” Katniss stammers.

Y/N moves aside, switching places so that Katniss is on the pedestal.

Katniss repeats the words verbatim, copying Y/N’s performance as best she can. She only agreed to be the face of the revolution after seeing what happened to district twelve. After seeing the reaction to Peeta’s interview with Caesar, she knows this is the only way to protect him.

There’s a slow clap from the corner, growing closer until he steps into view. The top of his blonde hair covered by a dark knit hat. “And that is how a revolution dies.”

Katniss glares at Haymitch, his hand resting at Y/N’s waist, as if no time has passed between them.

“Is this how you greet an old friend?” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.

“Maybe I don’t recognize you sober.” Katniss bites out.

“I guess it looks as bad as it feels.”

Y/N turns to him, whispering something Katniss can’t make out.

He offers her a smile and a chaste kiss.

Katniss sees herself and Peeta. The way they might have been, ten years down the line. Peeta would love her like that…and she’d love him the only way she could.

It would bubble up and swell in her chest, until she burst. Just like Haymitch, pouring from an empty cup.

————————————————————————

Katniss sinks down in her chair, as the propo plays for the team. Wishing she could melt into it, disappear. No one’s going to buy this.

Y/N rubs at her back, “it’s not as bad as you think.”

“You’re right,” Haymitch cuts in, “it’s worse.” He’s always been a tough love kind of guy. Even with an infant strapped to his chest, he isn’t brimming with compassion.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “not helping.”

“Indulge me for a moment.” Haymitch holds both hands up in surrender. “Lets everybody think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you.�� He moves to the digital display, in front of the meeting table. “One moment where she made you feel something real.”

“Ooo,” Effie waves a hand. “When she volunteered for her sister at the reaping.”

“Excellent example.” Haymitch uses his forearm to clear data from the screen. He’s observed enough of Y/N and her tablet over the years, this technology is no different. “Hope that wasn’t important.” He steals a glance over his shoulder, before scribbling in, ‘volunteer 4 sis,’ with the stylus.

“And when she volunteered for Y/N.”

“When she sang that song for little Rue.”

Haymitch adds it to the list. “You know Effie, I like you better without all that makeup.”

“Well, I like you better sober.” The woman says in return, causing Haymitch to glare at her.

“When she chose Rue for an ally as well.” Beetee chimes in.

“Now, what do all of these things have in common?”

“Nobody told her what to do.” Gale understands better than anyone.

“Unscripted,” Beetee agrees, “yes. So maybe we should just leave her alone.”

“And wash her face.” Boggs narrows his eyes, “she’s still a girl, you made her look thirty-five.”

Katniss smiles at this.

“The opportunities for spontaneity are obviously lacking, here below ground.” Plutarch points out. “So what you’re suggesting is that we toss her into combat?”

“I can’t sanction putting an untrained civilian into combat for effect. This isn’t the Capitol,” Coin argues.

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Put her in the field.” Haymitch knows this is the only way.

“No, we won’t be able to protect her.” The president looks to Y/N now. Surely she is not onboard with this.

“It has to come from her, that’s what people respond to. You want a symbol for the revolution, she cannot be coached into it. Trust me, I know.” Haymitch presses on.

“He’s right,” Y/N sighs. “It’s not ideal but…it’s our only option.”

“Maybe there’s someplace less dangerous.”

“District eight, they sustained heavy bombings last week. No military targets left.”

“We can’t guarantee her safety.”

“You’ll never be able to guarantee my safety,” Katniss adds. “I wanna go.”

“And if you’re killed?” Alma’s words hang heavy between them.

“Make sure you get it on camera.”

————————————————————————

“You realize this is dangerous, let alone highly irresponsible.” Haymitch remarks, watching his wife load her gun. The bullets are color coded; black for regular, yellow are incendiary, and red for explosive. Though they’ve been asked not to fire the red ones down here.

“Yeah.” Y/N cocks the gun, squeezing the trigger and letting the bullet fly. She’s gotten better with practice, now hitting her target at dead center. “You don’t approve?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying, Haymitch?”

“As your former mentor, I’m not inclined to advise you waltzing into a war zone.” You search for water. High ground, stay away from the cornucopia.

Y/N nods, “and as my husband?”

“I’m even less inclined.” Though his feelings for her have shifted over the years, the need to protect her is fierce and unwavering.

“I can’t lose Katniss.” Not like we lost Peeta.

“Yeah,” Haymitch huffs, “I get that.”

She sets down her weapon, on the steel table in the training room. “I’m a good shot.”

“You are.”

“I’ve been working on my stamina, I’m almost back to where I was before Daisy.”

Haymitch won’t deny it. “You’ve got good aim, you’re fast, resourceful and a little bit scrappy. You can survive in harsh conditions.” You’re my victor. “But there’s a hole in your uterus the size of a dinner plate.”

“Was,” Y/N corrects him. “The doctors cleared me for this.”

“I watched you almost bleed to death; twice. So you’ll have to forgive me for being reluctant to let you risk your life. I understand that this is important to you-”

She turns, cupping his cheek, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I wouldn’t want you to go either. I love you too much.”

Haymitch affords her a soft grin, “that always gets in the way, doesn’t it?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “somehow I just keep getting sucked in deeper.”

“You keep getting sucked in?” He chuckles. “I was perfectly content on my own for over a decade, before you put your hooks in me.”

At this she laughs, harder than she should. “Don’t make it sound so romantic now.”

Still his arms are around her. Y/N’s at the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that has started growing in with gray peppered throughout and makes him feel every bit his age.

Their lips meet, by her accord or his own; he can’t say for certain. Y/N bids him closer. Deeper, harder, more. I’m yours. Nothing more, nothing less…just hers.

“Stay off him!” Cashmere scolds from the entryway, effectively breaking them apart. “It’s like you’re trying to singlehandedly repopulate this hellhole.”

“Our contribution to this great nation,” Haymitch salutes her.

————————————————————————

“We’ve gotta be quick about this. Get in and get out.” Boggs orders, as they file out of the hovercraft. Nobody wants the mockingjay on the ground for long.

Introductions are brief. Commander Paylor, of district eight, shows them to the makeshift hospital.

Bodies of fallen civilians line the entrance, covered only by tarps. “There’s a mass grave, about two miles west. But I can’t spare the manpower to move them.”

This place is a breeding ground for infection. All the wounded in one place, nothing sterile in sight.

“Don’t film me in there. I can’t help them,” Katniss says to Cressida, as they move farther into the masses.

“Just let them see you,” the woman insists. She left the Capitol for this, she knows what she’s doing.

“Come on,” Y/N gives her shoulder a squeeze.

Katniss opens her mouth to speak but Y/N disappears into the crowd, helping nurse the wounded.

There is someone in the corner; no one tends her, she is alone and clearly suffering. A bucket of water, with a single sponge inside, sits beside her, bandages to the left.

“I’m surprised they let you out just to show face. Thought you were more important than that.” The woman from district eight says.

“I’m not here to show face. I’m here to support Katniss and what I believe in.” Y/N takes a seat, beginning to clean her wounds.

“You sure this is the side you fall on?” She chokes out. “There’s no fancy parties or big houses here.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “I never liked the parties and the house wasn’t very homey. The only good thing about it was my family inside.”

“People used to look up to you.”

“That was a long time ago,” Y/N murmurs.

“They will again.” The woman is sure of it, “and when they do, make sure you’re ready. Make sure you stay on the right side of things.”

“I was just trying to survive, couldn’t see beyond that.”

“He’ll kill you for this.” President Snow. “For standing with us.”

Y/N nods, with a tired smile. “Yeah.”

“Then why are you here?”

“This is what I believe in…a new Panem. Where we are equals and have a say in our own lives. It’s worth the risk. It’s gonna take all of us, every person in every district, we all have to fight for it.”

The woman presses her lips together, allowing Y/N to dress her wounds. She says nothing else, looking up at the victor, from time to time. I see you.

It feels good to be seen, by a stranger who owes her nothing. Someone to see her without the tainted film of rose colored glasses.

————————————————————————

“How have things been since your release?” Dr. Aurelius inquires.

“Alright, I guess.” Haymitch is not here of his own free will. “Never gonna be good, given the prohibition you have going on around here. But I’d rather be with my family than locked up a mile away.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“My son’s name is Everest, he’s ten. My daughter, Arista is six and Daisy is four weeks old. Then obviously Y/N and her family. Katniss.” Peeta.

“Were they planned? The children.”

“Yes and no.” Haymitch scrubs a hand over his face.

“Can you explain what that means?”

“I don’t want…” Haymitch pauses, “our children are not burdens, Y/N and I have always said that. Those kids are everything and I don’t want that getting twisted. Ever.”

“Of course.”

“Snow gave us deadlines and we met them. With Everest and Arista, we had a year. In that year Y/N needed to be pregnant.”

“But not Daisy?”

“They screwed around with Y/N’s birth control. We’re fertile people, it doesn’t take much.” Haymitch admits.

“And your marriage, would you call it a happy one?”

“Yes, by my account. But I’m sure she’s told you all about me.” This is a joke, for the most part.

“I can’t say much, as it would be a breach of confidentiality. Still you should know, she speaks highly of you. She loves you very much.”

Haymitch drops his gaze.

“Where did you go just now?”

“Nowhere.” Haymitch brushes it off, “I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about Y/N?”

“Isn’t it fucked up how someone like that could love someone me?”

“In what way?” Dr. Aurelius asks.

“I mean you’ve met her.” Haymitch huffs, “had a few sessions.”

“Sure.”

“She’s special.”

The doctor lets him speak.

“She’s a good person. She’s smart and she’s funny and she deserves the world.” Haymitch shifts in the chair, “she got me instead. Not exactly a fair trade.”

“I don’t think she feels that way.” The doctor informs him.

“Hmm,” Haymitch mulls it over.

“From the sound of it, you have always been very protective. Now you tend the children, so she can aide the rebellion. That must be hard for you.”

Haymitch scoffs, “I want to chase her down and bring her back.”

“Then why haven’t you.”

“If you love something, you set it free or some bullshit like that.”

“You love her deeply.”

“Coin offered to ‘dissolve’ our marriage. Did Y/N tell you that?” Haymitch changes the subject.

Aurelius sighs, “she didn’t mention it.”

“Tell me, oh great one, what does that mean?”

“Her mind is made up about you, Haymitch. Whether it’s right or wrong, no matter who deserves what, the heart wants what it wants. You are what she wants.”

“I want her too,” Haymitch snaps.

“You’ve mentioned that you struggle with the fact that Y/N didn’t get to choose you as a partner. Yet each time she does, you cannot accept that she is choosing you. As though you feel unworthy, unlovable.”

“Is that your official diagnosis?” Haymitch wonders, making no effort to confirm or deny.

The doctor flips quickly between entries in his notebook. “There is no distinction in any area of your relationship, a true lack of boundaries. All of your triumphs and failures, all of your sadness and your joy, is either sourced from her or the lives you’ve created together.” Dr. Aurelius tosses both hands up. “The greatest tragedies ever written are love stories, after all.”

Part 18

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

#haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x yn #haymitch abernathy fanfic #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #moves & countermoves

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lvstcd · 4 months

Text

no time to die ⟶ finnick odair & oc [part 1]

A/N: this is for my pookie ookie bear rese <;3 happy birthday bbg

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, smoking, pretty much all hunger games shit :)

SUMMARY: rhys marley was the youngest victor of hunger games, winning at the age of 12. 9 years later, she watches as her little cousin from district 12 tours around panem, a rebellion starting, and soon, chaos as the quarter quell comes to its beginning.

GENRE: angst, dystopian, fluff, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

oc - original character(s)

EDITED BUT THERE COULD STILL BE MISTAKES :0

lower case intended

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RHYS marley. the youngest victor of the hunger games. she won at the ripe age of twelve years old. nine years later, at the age of twenty-one years old, she sat in the victor village of district four, watching her little cousin from district twleve, zephyr marley, tour around panem with her fellow victor and lover, peeta mellark. she chews on a granola bar, watching intently, her long platinum blonde here tangled and thrown into a low messy bun as she had her black boyfriend framed glasses resting gently on the bridge of her nose, sliding down every couple of minutes, causing her to push them back up. she watched her cousin plaster on a fake smile as she read the words from the card that was given to her, some of the people in the districts yelling in anger and confusion.

she turns the tv down as she hears giggling outside of her mansion, the voices of finnick odair and annie cresta being heard. she stands up, walking over to her window and peaks out from behind the curtain, watching the pair laugh as they're wrapped up in each others arms. she steps away from the window, shuffling off to her bedroom, laying on her bed and staring at the wall, the sounds of birds chirping and wind banging against her window.

flashback

"finnick!" rhys yells, tears brimming her eyes as she watches her best-friend get reaped for the hunger games, her heart dropping to her stomach. she watches the reaping from outside, as she was only eleven years old, and not old enough to be reaped. her mother brushes her hair, holding her against her body tightly, "rhys, please." her mother whispers, tearing up as finnicks mother sobs next to them, gripping onto his fathers arm. rhys watches him get dragged inside the building while watching the other kids of district four leave, hugging their family and friends, grateful it wasn't them.

rhys looks at finnicks mother, sobbing, "please tell him to be careful. tell him to survive. he needs to survive." tears are streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably, her heart breaking inside of her chest.

weeks later, finnick arrives home, winning the hunger games. rhys waits outside of her house, fiddling with the hem of her skirt as she waits for finnick to arrive home. she stares at the ground, waiting, when she hears her name being called. looking up, she sees her bestfriend, his eyes scared and tired as he jogs towards her, his arms wide open. rhys stands up, "finnick!" she cries, running towards him and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, sobbing into his chest. "you did it." she whispers into him, hearing him sniffle above her. "i did." he whispers back, hugging her tightly.

rhys blinks, zoning back into reality as she realizes it's past dusk. standing up, she grabs her bathroom essentials and walks to the bathroom, turning on the water to scalding hot and climbing in, letting the water beat against her skin, turning her red. "rhys?" her mother calls from outside the door, "are you in the shower?" she asks, listening in. rhys hums, "yes, mother. i just got in. do you need something?" she asks softly, rubbing her hands over her face. her mother tells her no and walks away, her footsteps gradually getting quieter on the other side of the door.

rhys finishes her shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel around her body. she dries her hair and brushes it, the platinum blonde strands hanging down to her lower back. she wipes the mirror off with her arm, looking at her reflection in the mirror, her baby blue eyes staring right back at her as she tries to recognize herself, the old image of herself no where to be found. she changes into pajamas and walks out of the bathroom and into her room, climbing into her bed and staring at the ceiling. eventually, her eyes close as she drifts asleep, the sound of crickets buzzing outside of her window.

flashback

"the female tribute of district four.." silence, no one dares to speak. "rhys marley." rhys' eyes widen as she looks around her, her heart sinking to her stomach as everyones eyes turn to her, watching her slowly make her way up the stairs and stand in front of everyone. she watches finnick from afar, his eyes widened and scared as he shakes.

rhys waits in the room, looking out the window as her family walks in, rushing to hug her as they let out a few tears. "you can do this, baby. i believe in you. do whatever it takes to survive." her mother whispers, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head as she brushes a few strands of rhys' hair out of her face, her thumbs caressing her cheeks. "mom." she whispers softly, "i love you. if i don't make it out of there, please tell finnick he's the bestest friend i ever had. please. dont forget me." her mother nods, letting out a sob as she grips onto her tightly, brushing her hair.

a couple weeks later, rhys arrives back home, her eyes widened and tired, the images of peoples bodies, blood, and chaos forever burned and engraved into her mind. she slowly walks into victors village, her mother running to her, sobbing and immediately wrapping her arms around her daughter, grateful she's alive. finnick runs out of his mansion, "rhys!" he yells, running as fast as he can to her, instantly wrapping his arms around her as he sheds a tear. "thank god." he whispers into her hair, holding onto her tightly as she silently stands there, emotionless and exhausted, her innocence forever destroyed.

rhys sits up, sweating and out of breath as another nightmare fogged her brain. she gasps for air, her eyes wide as she panics and looks around her dark room, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. her mother shuffles in, rubbing her eyes. "you okay, baby?" her mother asks her quietly, climbing into bed with her. "it's okay, mama. i'm okay. just another nightmare." rhys whispers, rubbing her eyes and wiping the couple tears off of her cheeks. her mother ignores her, lying down next to her under the covers, wrapping her arms around rhys' body and brushing her hair. "it's okay, baby. i'm here. get some sleep." her mother whispers into her hair, humming softly as rhys nods and lays down, feeling at ease with her mothers presence. "thank you." rhys whispers, her eyes closing as she listens to her mothers peaceful humming, falling back asleep.

a few days later, rhys sits in the living room, her legs crossed and her hair thrown into a pony tail as she watches the tv, waiting for the news about the quarter quell, her mother and her father sitting beside her, watching as well. she watches president snow come up on the screen, her eyebrows furrowing as she stares at him, her hands shaking in anger.

"the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

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