#tw implied coercion

[saints-helen]

Hehe, first suggestive piece >:333

Basically, crepic foreplay with some sad bits, I'm excited to post this!~

(if anyone thinks cross could dominate you are WRONG. he is a princess in bed and should be treated as such 😌)

cross's breaths were soft, warm, where they fanned against the side of epic's head, his fingertips trailing across his lover's ecto as he laid back in bed, all comfortable and presumably very, Very warm.

he pressed soft kisses against his neck, not biting, not yet, just pressing against the skin, breathing him in, and delighting when cross turned his head to the side, still panting, to give him better access.

"e-epic" he breathed out, and he couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him, grinning, as he lifted his head to look at cross, both of their bodies sweaty with all the heat in the room.

and oh.. what a sight he was.

flushed, barely trembling, his eyes lidded and desperate, mouth slightly open so Invitingly that epic Had to force his eyes away, lest he lose himself in the sight.

"yeah?" he answered, and cross took a deep shaky breath, almost whining as he threw his arm over his eyes to hide his face, head turned away from epic.

"don't- look at me like that" he prefaced, then, peeking out, he said "don't tease"

he hummed, "but i like teasing", tugging away cross's arm away from his face resulted in such a pretty little whine escaping him, his brow bones knitting in a near Pout as he tried to glare at him.

"don't Tease" he said again, and epic nuzzled his nose against his cheek, intertwining their fingers together as he kissed the bone beneath his mouth, enjoying the way he felt cross's pulse quicken at the gesture.

"not teasing, then" he replied, his smile ever present; he couldn't help it, not really, not when cross looked This pretty and tempting.

"buttering you up," he said "getting you ready"

"don't wanna" cross huffed out.

"ya gotta" he teased back, earning him yet another whine.

he'd come to find this evening that cross was a very, Very whiny person, and he'd never been as delighted at a discovery like this since he learned how Easy it was to make the man blush.

"stoopppp" he whined, turning his head from side to side in disapproval, panting with eyes squeezed shut.

"i hate you"

"you wouldn't be letting me do this if ya did~" he teases back, only to be met with silence.

ah, right, a bit too soon then, his bad for forgetting.

before it can spiral into anything more, he soothes it away with another purr, nuzzling his nose against his lover's jaw and counting it as a win when he huffs in annoyance.

"bothersome.." he mutters, and epic simply responds "i love you too~"

he's never been one not to listen, however, so he actually begins getting him ready, then.

his fingers gliding down cross's chest to his stomach, enjoying the way his breath Sputters at the sudden change in pace.

he won't go too quickly though, oh no, he's going to savour every single Second of this, commit it to memory, commit Him to memory too, as his hands smooth over the quivering 'skin".

"epic.." he pants out again, more desperation than complaint this time, a soft "a- hah!" escaping him when epic nips at the soft flesh of his neck, quickly pressing a soft kiss against it before moving a bit and doing it again.

he's always gentle with cross, would be even if cross didn't ask him a million times beforehand to be. he'd never been the rough sort of lover, and he knew it was a good thing, as he didn't think cross could handle anything But soft, at least not yet.

he knew the man's life had not been gentle, knew praise was never offered when it should've and that, when someone gripped him, it was never really just to Feel him, never for the sake of it, always was for something else.

he intended to be the exact opposite, refusing to be added to the list of shitty ex lovers who'd never treated him like he'd deserved, who'd taken advantage of his desperate need to please to get what they wanted.

oh.. no, epic would Never be like that, not with a gun pressed to his head.

he'd make sure cross was well taken care of, he'd praise him all throughout , and he knew what cross's inevitable answer would be,

"i didn't even do anything"

it seemed to be his catchphrase, almost, the thing he always said as he blushed, looking off side to side in confusion when epic would randomly tell him how pretty he was, how he loved him,

"but i didn't even do anything"

a denial, almost, a reminder, a plea that he did Not deserve this, even when epic consistently insisted that he did.

always downplaying the work he did around here, how he looked, how lovely he spoke and how funny he joked. it seemed to epic his lover wore the exact Opposite of rose tinted glasses, seeming to see himself as the devil incarnate if he didn't earn Every Little Thing.

he knew cross would feel guilty after this, he knew because he knew him, knew he hated to take an inch without giving a Mile in return, and still feeling like it wasn't enough.

how much effort did this take, then? how much work and careful wording "I enjoy this, I like spoiling my partners" the amount of wordplay needed, convincing, for cross to let him lay him back in bed, looking all pretty, and let epic do all the work?

it Was true, however, he Did like spoiling his partners, even more so if they didn't think they deserved it,

even more so if they've never experienced it before.

epic didn't Like cross's previous partners, didn't like the mark they'd left on his sweet, hilarious, kind lover.

didn't like the way they made every insecurity the man already had ten times worse, so much so that, even now, his claws digging into epic's back, finally unclenching from their place in the bed, hesitant, (and oh how he'd Beg the stars that cross left his mark there), fingers flexing and curling, he still had his clothing on, refusing, even in these most intimite moments, epic the right to look at all of him.

it took long just to get him to unbutton his Shirt all the way, and epic wasn't willing to push anymore than that lest the sweet man get nervous, so he currently admired what of him he Could see, eyes drinking it up with Hunger he'd never dare to hide.

he wantsd cross to know Exactly what he thought of him.

another thing he rememberered, then, when the hand not at his back flew to cross's mouth, eyes squeezed shut at a particularly teasing bite in a place he knew was sensitive, he saw his tempting, far too tempting sharp fangs dig into his palm hard enough to Bleed.

epic, always attentive no matter how hazy his eyes got with lust, put a stop to that quickly, tugging the hand away by the wrist and, using a kiss to the wrist to sneak a look at the wound, assessesing the damage.

not too bad, thankfully, just barely broke 'skin', and his eyes were eventually drawn back to his lover as he tried to yank his hand away, eyes dazed as the tried to focus on him, the newest victim to those teeth the lip caught between them

"please..." he half whined weakly, and epic met his eyes for a moment before pressing the nicked palm to his cheek, then kissing the cut.

"you're pretty when you beg," he murmured, "but i don't like to see you bleeding. don't do this, please" he says, the last word added to make absolutely sure that what he said did Not sound like an order.

it scared him, he'd admit, when cross looked at him like what he'd said was an order.

he hated it with a passion.

"sorry..." he mutters, face turned to the side, and epic will take it,

at least he didn't add "sir" to the end of it this time, by reflex. it never failed to make him nauseous whenever he did.

right, so where was he? ah, yes, he was trailing circles with his thumb against the dip in his hip, a spot he found he Especially liked to tease.

it was very pretty. cross was very pretty. he never understood how anyone couldn't see that, because even if he found himself with his eyes closed, his hands would still shake as he imagined the curves of that body as he smoothed them over it.

cross never liked being too loud, and epic knew it would translate to this, too, because whenever his voice got a pitch higher than he wanted his mouth would always clamp shut.

it wasn't difficult to figure out what cross needed, what he wanted, not at all, and he wasn't quite sure what all the Fuss was about.

cross had told him, hours before they began this because yes, it took him hours to soothe the anxiety enough for them to start, that sex had never really been all that.. tempting, for him before. (understandable, considering his orientation.) that he'd never craved it with anyone as much as he did so with epic.

(and oh.. how Delightful that was to hear, his soul soaring as he grinned.. but before he could inevitably tease him about it cross had thrown a pillow in his face, so he figured he'd keep his mouth shut for now)

that, with those he'd been with before, it always seemed like a dreadful ticking time clock of patience that would eventually run out, when the "I'm not ready yet" would start to be met with frustration instead of care, when the "I'm sorry. are you mad at me?" would stop being met with a response altogether.

again, he didn't know what all the Fuss was about, so what if cross wasn't willing to have sex on the first date? or second? or the thirtieth?

so what if he needed some extra time to feel up to it? to feel comfortable enough being in such an incredibly vulnerable position that required an amount of trust from the man that, frankly, most people took for granted?

epic was happy to have cross in any way cross let him, whether it be his friend, his lover, his queer platonic partner, you name it. as long as he got to stay at his side, making him happy, he was content.

he didn't Need the sex, he'd enjoy it sure, but it was far from a deal-breaker for him, he'd wait for as long as cross needed him to, hell, he'd wait Forever if that's what cross needed him to do.

because he deserved it, he absolutely Deserved it, and he'd said so, too, only for cross to deny him his conviction under the argument that "some people Do need it, epic."

it was absolute bull, the rushing the man was always subject to, but he was too busy listening to cross tell him about always eventually Caving, initiating the act under the guilt of "depriving them" just so they'd smile at him again, stop looking at him with a look that screamed "When?", the lingering looks shot to him, when they thought he couldn't see, when they both were watching a movie that happened to have an intimate scene, where cross, ever so perceptive, fascinating cross, Knew Exactly what they were thinking. He was too busy - he was never the sort to get so angry - controlling his breathing to argue his point.

"pretty thing.." he purred, cross's breath hitching as he bit him again, a calculated move, as he knew cross was about to deny it again.

"doing so good for me.. singing so sweetly.. " a whine "pretty bird~"

he extended his claws, dragging them across cross's abdomen and down his pants, feeling him squirm and writhe beneath him, and stars, he'd never been more turned on in his Life.

cross's arms both wrapped around his neck, holding on tightly as he buried his face in his shoulder, and epic could feel the tenseness in his legs as he tried not to kick them, toes curling.

he didn't enter him, yet, didn't even tease it, still trailing slow sensual circles into his inner thighs, getting a soft moan as a reward for his efforts.

he wanted cross to enjoy this, he wanted him to enjoy it as much as he possibly could, and despite his earlier protests at epic teasing him, he figured cross wouldn't want to go too fast either.

he didn't want to make him feel used, god forbid let him think epic was getting Impatient with him, so for now, and for a while yet, he'll continue to get him wet without actually doing much of anything.

he liked it better that way, anyway.

[reblrths]

caesar flickerman :

“ finch , you’ve become quite the heartthrob with many in and out of the capitol , tell us have any of us managed to catch your eye in these last few years ? ”

“ you’re an outspoken individual , any thoughts on your competitors this year ? who should steer clear of you in the arena ? ”

“ lark has certainly proven himself in the gymnasium , have you passed any skills along ? ”

— feel free to include more questions & answers , caesar usually has around 5 minutes with each tribute

sitting back in the interview chairs made finch tense. the first time she ever stood before these crowds, they didn’t know her; within five minutes, finch proved how difficult she could be, making them uninterested enough to deem her a non-threat. and when they were interviewed again by caesar after their win, the capitolites all sang a different tune. but this first question — it makes them laugh. finch knew better than to divulge anything about their personal life, they've given the capitol nothing for eighteen years. but the fact that something so juvenile is their first question when lives hang in the balance -- should they have expected anything less?

“finch, you’ve become quite the heartthrob with many in and out of the capitol, tell us have any of us managed to catch your eye in these last few years? ”

“heartthrob?” they shake their head with a scoff. “i’m going to be dead in a few days, but of course the first question you ask has to do with whether i’ll be leaving anyone behind.” the feeling of the glitter and fluorescent lights hot against their skin makes them itch and they want to walk off of this stage. this question felt targeted; they try not to think of doe eyes, damp hair brushed back, a delicate hand wrapping around finch's ankle to steady themself. they turn to face the crowd instinctually, barely turning their head before they catch her eye — of course she’s right in front. for a moment, brief as it is, they falter. no. even if finch did, they’d never exploit them to the capitol. anyone you care for is a target, they have learned this the hard way. they turn back to caesar with a hardened stare. “last i checked i wasn’t heartthrob enough for the capitol’s standards. you all seem to like them a little more naive,” it’s an obvious jab to those that were deemed desirable enough, the way they take the victors, threaten and exploit them, never not entertaining those in the capitol. they can’t contain the bitterness in their tone, the disgust at the capitol and its supposed secrets. finch got lucky and they knew it; snow knew no one would have wanted a female victor with a bad attitude and a bite as sharp as their bark. and if there were some, it wasn’t enough. they refuse to look back down at the crowds as they speak. “maybe that’s why i’ve managed to keep my eyes to myself.”

“always so secretive, aren't you?" caesar aims for lighthearted, but finch simply grunts. there's a pause before he continues. "you’re an outspoken individual, any thoughts on your competitors this year? who should steer clear of you in the arena?”

finch knows they won’t trash talk the other tributes. they’re either children or people they’ve come to know over the years. not even dae — they might not like him, but they wouldn’t have ever thought to kill him. “first you want romance, now you want threats — hitting every base tonight, caesar. this is why they pay you the big bucks, huh?” the idea of anyone steering clear of finch in the arena nearly makes them laugh again. their joke isn't taken as serious as they want when the crowd laughs along with caesar, but they suspect that is simply to ease the tension that has built in the room.

when the fake laughter dies down at their jab at the host and waits for them to answer this question, finch remains quiet. they refuse to answer, staring at caesar, forcing him to clear his throat and continue on. finch tries to quell the quirk in their lips at the unease of caesar's movements now, like he thinks they will attack him at any moment and must proceed with caution, but the flickerman's have never known caution. at the mention of lark, finch tries not to sit up immediately.

“lark has certainly proven himself in the gymnasium, have you passed any skills along?”

they want to snap, to tell this man who’s hard to look at not to speak of their nephew even if that is the reason they're here, but there is no use. as protective as everyone knows they are over their family, finch won’t make him look weak. in fact, they won’t talk about him at all. “any skills he might show, he hasn’t gotten them from me,” they admit, turning to the crowds, glancing into the cameras as if talking to snow himself. “no, the skills he possesses comes right from his father. who, as you might know, is no longer with us," finch leans forward in their seat, the most involved they've been in the interview thus far. "tell me, caesar, how many accidents do you hear come out of five?” a hushed murmur falls through the crowd and finch would have to thank soleil for this trick. “the workers, they know what they’re doing in those warehouses. which is why it was so strange that one of two explosions that have ever happened in five were after an undesirable victor won. what a coincidence wren was working that day.” finch is up before the peacekeepers can come to escort them away from the stage, though before they leave — they make sure to add a haughty and venomous, “that first explosion, though? that one happened when whispers of rebellion began to spread.” towards the crowd before they shove their way backstage.

[tragedy-with-a-melody]

What happened to your wings? Were you born with any?

You can't just ask a man what happened to his wings! Jeeze—

Fine. You really want to know?...

I bargained them. I bargained my wings for the safety of my people... I was born with wings, but they were never anything close to being impressive.. It wasn't a true loss. It was necessary. I'm sure Tommy missed his discs more than I missed my wings... or my tail.

Can we stop talking about this?

[riiseandfall]

@rebellicnrising

there was a bark of laughter when dante's scored was revealed -- an honest to god laugh at that number that was so damning. a perfect score. there was a time when dante would have felt nothing but pride at seeing that twelve next to his face. but that was a long time ago -- now he was just bitter. how many years had he spent following their demands? those greedy hands and lips that felt like they branded his skin with their touch? how many years had he hated what he became? what they turned him into? that pretty little puppet? and this was his reward -- a death sentence. shots are swiftly knocked back and then he's gone as soon as he's able, disappearing into the gardens outside, ignoring those who wanted his time even more now -- made all the more desirable with that score latched to him. but one person persists, follows him outside and he is ready to snap on whoever it was -- (what more can they do?) -- only to freeze when he catches sight of those familiar blue eyes. "come to check on your favorite victor, darling?" there's another one of those laughs -- coming from somewhere even dante doesn't know. that previous bitterness is nowhere to be found -- he could never direct it at kaleb. "hope you didn't gamble too much on me -- hate to think of how much you'll lose when i--" he's fraying at the edges, trying to keep ahold of himself but he slips further and further away. "--works out for atlas though, doesn't it? he won't have to spend as much as he thought."

[riiseandfall]

∗ 5o﹕ sender rests their forehead against receiver’s . ( kaleb x dante )

@rebellicnrising

they had been laying in bed for the better part of twenty minutes, both awake just...postponing actually leaving, playfully coming up with any excuse to stay right where they were. 'i'm not moving until you move.' 'well i'm not moving because i happen to be pretty comfortable right now so you move.' 'oh yeah? how comfortable?' 'comfortable enough not to move, i just said that.'

it doesn't set off any alarms when kaleb laughs--something that's quiet and rumbles, still tinged with sleep--and a smile makes its way onto dante's face. not a grin or a smirk, something that's soft, far softer than he meant for it to be. it doesn't set off any alarms when kaleb's hand moves to rest against the side of dante's neck, causing his heart to sputter in his chest as a thumb traces against his adam's apple. but when kaleb leans forward, gently pressing their foreheads together? when dante's eyes grow slightly wider as he scans the other man's face---memorizing each minute detail to his memory? (as if you didn't already know him by heart.) when dante moves to brush dark curls away from kaleb's forehead with a tenderness that he had almost forgotten his hands were capable of? when he leans forward just a fraction of an inch and whispers, "i wish i--" could stay here forever. just like this.

that is when the alarm goes off.

they had a rule. set in place years ago, four simple words and yet they bound themselves to it. don't fall in love. it isn't now that dante realizes he was falling, it's now that he realizes he's already hit the ground. (always the rulebreaker, aren't you?)

it feels like an act of god to tear his eyes away from kaleb's, inhaling sharply as he turns, moves to sit up, a hand running down his face as those thoughts--those feelings--get shoved into some dark corner of his mind. "i, uh, wish i didn't have plans today. some peacekeeper captain just found and captured a whole group of rebels over in ten. got a promotion out of it so..." the capitol had their gifts for those who served them well. he turns back to kaleb, the mask firmly back up as he leans forward to press a kiss against his lips--but he's hesitant, lingers a second too long. "i--" (i'm sorry i broke our rule.) but he can't manage to say it, just taps kaleb's cheek, shooting him that smirk he so often wore. "--i'll see you around, darling."

[gladiatefm]

𝙸 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚈 𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙷 apollo redfield , district four

— 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

full name: apollo redfield

nicknames: none

age: 30

gender / pronouns: cis man , he / him

orientation: bisexual

cccupation: mentor in the hunger games

home: district four

— 𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

build: slim , muscular

height: 5′11″

piercings: none

tattoos: none

distinctive features: long , floppy hair

face claim: joe keery

— 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈

tw : implied coercion to serve the capitol , depression

you want to be special, have you ever considered that this isn't the life for you ? district four picked you up in its gentle hands . your parents wanted a career tribute, a home in victor's village for they were never reaped so why not volunteer a son ? sure , how bad could it be for you ? everything came so easy to you .

the academy wrung you out like an old rag but you bore the pain, threw it over your shoulder like a sack and travelled through those younger years, the pressure of it all weighing every step .

at fifteen you volunteered . fresh from the academy and strong from days out on your father's fishing boat . that doe eyed, gooey tenderness — they tried to drive it out of you, but they never good . the soft spot within you endeared you to the capitol . you were a hapless thing, out of your depth and yet you were strong, you had an advantage that so many didn't . your tendency to panic reared its head within training and yet your score was good , you intimidated the other tributes , and the capitol couldn't get enough .

you rode the tube to the arena and found yourself in darkness . soon you realised you were in a cave system . your panicked instincts told you to run, but you fought your way to cornucopia, grabbed a sword and soon you were leading the career pack .

it was never a fair fight . you could climb, you were strong with an abundance of sponsors won over by your charm . from the moment you stepped into the arena, it was never a fair fight — none of this was fair . but you didn't know that , you just wanted to win, could feel the eyes of your parents burning through the cameras tracking every move .

when you made it out you were blood soaked and shaking, the wide eyes that endeared you to hundreds held an emptiness behind them . you fought your way out of a darkness that took hold of you in that arena , you fought and you never let up .

the house in victor's village held your parents and siblings , they made it their own, and you hid away in your room or on the fishing boats, even if you didn't need to work anymore . you parents didn't want you , they wanted a life of ease .

mentorship came easy until you realised those kids were going to die . still, they arrived every year and you adored them . you did what you could for them, fought tooth and nail . each one that made it out was a victory .

when you were old enough, the capitol sunk its teeth into you . you played along because you can't help it, you want to make people happy . you can't bear the idea of anyone disliking you — how could it be possible ? you're the shining star of the capitol . . . it's all you ever wanted . you're loved . you're finally loved .

[addie-bear]

This nightmare guises itself in the veils of sweetness at first. Chance, by Addie's side. Kisses and laughter. Gearing up to go to battle together, but the first hints- They do not merely defeat their enemies, they utterly slaughter them. Irken soldiers fall before them. One more kiss amid the blood, and they return home. Chance is greeted by his proud father, and Addie by her proud gra- Mother. Her mother, ever since she was three and taken to a better home.

She screams when she wakes up, rubbing at her arms, as if to get the blood off. She feels bile rise in her throat but she will herself not to vomit.

"You're such a good girl, Aria."

That voice. Her voice. Her memories of that time were still so foggy. What she'd done under her grandmother's control. No, no, no.

She's at the Team Nebula base. This is home. This is safe.

"Addie? Sweetheart?" Midge calls from the other side of the door.

Addie takes a breath. "I'm up."

She doesn't tell a soul.