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#Just wanted to see if anyone else is on the same boat
monstersflashlight · 15 hours
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I’m in the same boat, being asexual, does it feel weird to you to write these stories? I am asexual and I don’t want to have sex physically, but I’m not disgusted by reading about it or talking about it because I understand how other people feel about it. Does that make sense? Sometimes it just feels like I have imposter syndrome about myself, but I don’t have anyone else in my life I can talk to about that kind of stuff. 
Hi anon! I get what you say perfectly, it took me a long time to be able to say I'm asexual because I looooooove smut, writing and reading, but I don't really see myself doing any of that. Nor I feel compelled to do it, so it was very weird when I started questioning, but that's okay. You aren't less asexual just because you like to read smut, or write smut. You aren't less asexual if you decide to have sex, or don't. You are asexual either way. There's this internet discourse about asexuals being mostly sex-adverse and there's ppl like that, for sure, but there's also a bunch of us who really like sex, even if it's not in a conventional allosexual way. I'm glad you find me and my page a safe space to express these insecurities, it makes my heart all warm because we all need that safe space to ask and share experiences and if you don't have it in your everyday life, don't worry, here you'll be understood and appreciated. But yeah, you ARE asexual even if you like smut, it's completely okay. 😊 Feel free to send more anons or send me a DM if you are feeling the impostor syndrome again, it can be very rough to deal with alone. 🥰
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pakop-the-backup · 11 months
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Hey, just wanted to check with others. Has the follow bot fiasco stoped already?
I haven't got any bots in quite some time.
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months
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what friends do | f. odair
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summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming
notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3
word count: 11.7k
Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.
Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.
Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.
District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.
You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.
However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.
But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.
Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.
"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.
Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"
"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."
Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."
To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.
"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"
"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."
You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.
He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.
The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples...��wow.
He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.
Finnick Odair.
The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.
The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.
That was what everyone made him out to be.
Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?
It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.
His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.
"I'm Finnick, by the way."
The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.
You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.
Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.
You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.
At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by. 
When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did. 
As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...
**********
As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.
Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.
"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."
Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.
Finnick was very much a gentleman.
He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.
All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.
But there was more to it than innocent adoration.
The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.
Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.
All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.
A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.
Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.
But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?
Maybe.
However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.
Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.
Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.
He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.
There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.
You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.
It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.
You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.
This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.
As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.
"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.
Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.
That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.
"Look at thi—"
Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief. 
Damn that stupid seashell.
He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"
You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.
"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"
Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.
"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."
You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.
"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.
He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."
"No, you just don't think, Finn."
He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."
"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."
Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.
You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.
Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.
One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.
Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.
And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."
The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—
"I think..."
—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.
The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.
Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.
Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.
So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.
When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.
As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.
The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.
You sighed.
The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.
Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.
"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.
Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"
"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"
With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"
"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"
Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"
He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"
You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."
"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.
Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?
Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.
Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.
Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.
And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.
You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.
"Thinking about anyone in particular?"
You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?" 
How did he keep doing that?
Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"
As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.
Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.
If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.
Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.
You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."
Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...
Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.
You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."
"Who could've guessed."
Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.
Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.
Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.
There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.
Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."
You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.
"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."
With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.
The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"
"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."
You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.
"Better?" he asked.
You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."
"Anytime."
You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.
Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.
He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.
How could he?
The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.
You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.
First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.
"Stop moving."
You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.
"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.
His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.
You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?
In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"
"Fuck," he breathed out.
Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.
That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.
But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.
"...Oh," you whispered.
"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."
Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.
As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.
What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—
Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.
You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.
"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"
That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.
Finnick was silent.
The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.
Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.
And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."
Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.
You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.
It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.
Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.
"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.
"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"
You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.
Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"
A wave of chills ran down your entire body.
What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.
Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.
You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.
He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.
Finnick murmured your name.
"Yes?" you managed to whisper.
"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"
Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.
You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.
His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.
There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.
You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.
It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.
Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.
Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.
With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.
"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.
His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"
Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.
Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.
You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.
You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.
So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.
It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.
"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.
"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.
If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.
Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.
Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.
"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.
The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.
"Yes,"you practically whined.
He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.
You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.
His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.
You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.
Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.
But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.
Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"
He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.
You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.
"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."
And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.
"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."
Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.
To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties. 
He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.
Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."
He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.
His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.
"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.
How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."
"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."
Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.
At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.
The moan you let out was positively filthy.
"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."
Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.
"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."
"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."
A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.
Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.
The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.
It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.
"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.
"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.
You nodded fervently.
"Say please first."
"Finn," you whined in frustration.
You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"
His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.
Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.
"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."
He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."
His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.
Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.
That is what did it for you.
You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.
"Taking it so well."
"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."
"Such a good girl."
As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.
"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.
You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.
"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."
If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.
You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him
You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.
"Hi," you whispered.
He smiled. "Hey, stranger."
He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.
You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.
Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."
You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.
"Feeling better?"
"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."
A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."
And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.
You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.
You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."
Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.
Then came the explosion.
His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.
Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.
A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.
You stayed like this for a few seconds.
"So big," you gasped against his lips.
His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"
"Never."
This was so not what friends did.
He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.
At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.
All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.
The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.
He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.
You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.
"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."
You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?
He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.
"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."
He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.
Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.
He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.
His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.
You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.
Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.
His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.
He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.
Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.
That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.
Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.
Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"
He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.
"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."
Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.
You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.
Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.
"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."
The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."
"Come inside you?"
You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.
"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."
Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.
"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.
He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.
And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.
It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.
He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.
When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.
With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.
You were gone.
"Oh fuck!"
The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.
He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.
You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.
A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.
There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.
But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.
It was a new moon.
Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal. 
You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.
Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.
He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.
Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.
"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.
Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."
"For an entire hour?"
"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."
You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."
"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."
"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."
You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.
Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.
"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"
The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?
A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.
There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.
Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.
Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.
Maybe.
"That's a long time," you said.
He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."
And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."
You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.
A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.
You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.
"Finn?"
"Yeah?"
The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.
You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.
He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.
"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.
Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?
"I love you too."
His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.
...roll credits
3K notes · View notes
solar-wing · 7 months
Text
⚣ Five & One 💪🏻
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⚣💪🏻 A/N → This is a re-post and, once again, it was inspired by this post by @gone-batty-fics. I'm leaving the full NSFW version up here since it's not that much, so no need for an extra link. I hope you guys enjoy reading this around a second time and sorry if any of you have been missing it. This was my most popular post on my previous account and I'm sad I gotta start it over, but oh well. WARNINGS: Breathplay/Choking, Implied Size Kink, Jealous and Possessive Behavior, Rough Anal, Violence, etc.
⚣💪🏻 Summary → Five times people thought you needed rescuing from your boyfriend, Jason Todd. And the one time, someone needed rescuing from you.
⚣💪🏻 Words → 7.8k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!
⚣ ENJOY 💪🏻
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Okay, you got it.
Your boyfriend was a very intimidating and scary guy when he wanted to be. But, that didn’t mean people had to keep asking you if you needed saving like you were some damsel in distress. You weren’t even a damsel! You were a damsmen. Damsman? A Damson?
Oh, forget it. Point still stands, people needed to stop treating you like you needed rescuing. You were fine! Besides, when he wasn’t out hunting criminals, Jason was literally the least threatening person in the world. It was you bitches should be worried about! And if bitches didn’t believe you, bitches could just find out on their own.
Bitch.
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The first time wasn’t bad. You considered it actually sweet and could see how under the circumstances someone was not aware of the dynamic between you and the vigilante.
It was a sunny day in Gotham for once. Everyone was out, enjoying the sunshine while having barbecues in the parks, strolling down the street in sunhats and sandals, and going swimming at the local pools. You were no different, seeing the usual moody and depressing atmosphere absent from the sky and deciding immediately to take advantage of it and drag your boyfriend Jason out, making the whole day a date between you two.
You and Jason decided on simple outfits since the sun was out and the temperatures were warmer than usual. You decided on a regular button-up, leaving the top three buttons down to show some skin, which your boyfriend both loved and hated since he could ogle your chest with no shame, but anyone else could do the same. You paired it with some boat shoes and simple shorts that did an excellent job hugging your ‘boo-twah,’ a nickname Jason gave your ass for its large-hand-friendly size, as he liked to say.
“Instead of like boo-tee, it’s boo-TWAH. It’s just out there.” He explained one morning when you had spent the night at his place. Jason, sitting and ogling at his boyfriend in his well-fitted yoga pants and sleeveless hoodie while you made breakfast.
“You are such a nerd.” You laughed at him.
“Well, this nerd scored big,” He responded before landing a heavy smack on your behind, which you chastised him for since he made you almost fling the eggs you were scrambling out of the pan.
Back to the sunny day, Jason dressed simply too but was more relaxed than you. He went for a comfortable pair of joggers, one of his nicer gym shoes, and a tank top covered by a sleeveless hoodie since he got hot easily.
A few months after you and Jason got together, he told you about his double life and his family’s. It explained why when he would spend the night at your house a few times, you’d play doctor while wondering where he was getting all these bruises and wounds. As you and Jason grew closer and began to explore your ‘interest’ in each other’s bodies, you’d find he was actually shy about his body even though the man was built like a tank.
It wasn’t necessarily his body he was ashamed of. It was his scars he actually didn’t like. All things he saw as painful reminders of his more than rough past, especially the bigger ones he had received from Joker. You were patient with him and reminded him at every possible chance that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of. Instead, they were to be celebrated and seen as trophies. Reminders that in the face of everything thrown at him, he came out on top stronger than ever.
Over time, Jason became more confident and comfortable in his body. He bought more shirts, tank tops, and shorts that showed his arms, chest, and legs. Even going as far as cutting the sleeves off some of his hoodies since you owned many pairs, and he loved how they looked on you. He’d prefer to wear yours, but since you were much smaller than him, he’d end up stretching or ripping them. Now, you were no dainty stick or anything like that. You had some meat on your bones and were taller than the average guy. But again, Jason is built like a tank and very much dwarfed you in size.
You weren’t complaining. 
He also loved the benefit of the sleeveless hoodies as they made him look more intimidating, which helped whenever he noticed other guys and girls at the gym ogling you a little too long for his liking. He didn’t care who it was, Jason would always look out for and protect you.
Yet, others seemed to see it differently as you walked down the street in Gotham, going in and out of the various stores. You were both sipping on some slushies while chatting about whatever, Jason holding your shopping bags in one hand. You tried to snatch the bags from him multiple times since you didn’t want to feel like Jason was your butler or servant. Besides, you worked out too. Look at your arms! You could carry Jason if you wanted to.
Okay, yes, you knew that was a lie but you were allowed to dream. You’d get there…someday.
“Jason, give me my bag. I can carry it myself!” You said, trying to reach for the bag again.
“Sorry, Bugs, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to carry anything in my presence. Well, except my love for you. That’s heavy enough as it is.” Jason said with a cheeky smile.
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s corny behavior and another one of his nicknames for you. You’d made the mistake of bringing Jason around your best friend during a study session for one of your classes. He revealed your childhood obsession with Looney Tunes and how many times when you reacted to a situation, you were a carbon copy of Bugs Bunny with his sarcasm and behavior.
“Get away from me dude,” You said, putting distance between yourself and the brick wall of a man.
“Ah, get back here.”
Jason grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to his side, nuzzling his face into your neck while tickling your sides.
“Jason, stop!” You shouted in laughter, trying to push him away.
“Never! You are now my hostage.” He joked back with you.
You stood there for a few more seconds wrestling with each other on the sidewalk. Someone should really scold you two for acting so cutesy and loving out and public like that. WE GET IT! You’re in love! Stop rubbing it in our faces.
When you broke apart, you found yourselves outside a bookstore. You saw Jason’s eyes light up even if his face didn’t show it. He turned towards you, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes and pout.
“Oh, get in there you dork. But, don’t max out your dad’s credit card!” You said, successfully pushing him off you.
He leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips before shooting into the store like the Flash. “No promises!” He yelled over his shoulder.
While he was in the store living out his childhood fantasy, you decided to let your ankles rest since you had been on them for a few hours. Jason offered to carry you at one point, and though it was tempting, you declined.
You sat on a nearby bench while scrolling on your phone for a bit. Your head shot up when you spotted someone approaching you from the street. It was two girls, both who looked to be in their late 20s to early 30s, carrying concerned looks on their faces.
“Hi!” You spoke with a smile, waving to the women walking up to you.
“Hey, are you okay?” One of them asked when they got to you.
Now, you had a confused expression on yours.
“I’m sorry?” You responded with a puzzled eyebrow raised.
“We were across the street when we saw that guy grabbing you. We can walk with you to the police station if he’s harassing you.” The other woman said.
‘Were these chicks on crack?’ You thought.
“Um, I think there’s been some confusion–” You started but was interrupted by the door swinging open, an excited Jason springing out of the store.
“BABE! THEY’VE GOT A MINT-CONDITIONED PRIDE & PREJUDICE! Can I get it?! Please!!!” Jason shouted while running up to you and grabbing you by your arms.
You could barely keep off the amused smile on your face while looking around your boyfriend’s shoulder to see the two girls looking shocked and embarrassed by your giant for a boyfriend, begging you for a book like a kid.
Jason turned around as well, seeing the two women staring at you two while he just pulled you closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you.
“Who are your friends, Bugs?”
“Just some nice girls being friendly,” You answered before using your hand to turn Jason’s head back toward you. “Don’t you already have three copies at home, Jason? Why do you need another?”
“Okay, but those are all old copies and are falling apart. This one is BRAND NEW! Never been opened. Please!!!”
You could only sigh at his antics before turning back to the girls, “I’m fine, ladies. But, thank you for asking.”
They both nodded with embarrassment before walking off down the street, Jason watching them with a confused expression before looking down at you.
“What was that about?”
“Don’t worry about it.
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This one also wasn’t so bad, but it was still annoying.
Your parents were out of town for a month for their anniversary, so you invited Jason over. When he got there and saw how your cupboards and fridge were damn near empty, he was upset at you for not telling him you had no food and your parents for not supplying you with anything.
Truth be told, they literally just forgot to go before they left. Jason always wondered where you got your forgetfulness from. Now, he knew.
So, he dragged you to your local wholesale store once again with his adoptive father’s credit card to stock and load your cabinets so you wouldn’t go hungry. Well, really so, Jason wouldn’t go hungry since he would be spending a lot of time at your place now. Again, the man was like a mountain, so of course, he ate like one.
You had been in the store for about 15 minutes, and already your cart was damn near half-full.
“Jay, don’t you think this is enough? We don’t have to get a bunch of stuff today.” You voiced, eyeing the growing basket with concern.
“Bugs, you can’t stay in your house for a month and not have any food. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you go hungry?” He responded while grabbing four boxes of your favorite cereal brands off the shelf and placing them neatly in the basket.
If it’s one thing that shocked you to learn about Jason was that he was very clean and organized with anything. You expected that trait more out of his brothers like Tim or Damian. But in truth, Tim was more of an organized chaos type of guy, and Damian was very simplistic, so he didn’t really need to organize much, except for his drawings and paintings, which he sometimes left scattered all over his desk.
Dick was a mess that couldn’t be saved. God bless the soul that ended up with that man.
But Jason was the cleanest out of all of them. The man could barely go two days without scrubbing down or re-organizing something. Again, you weren’t complaining. Every time he came over, he’d clean your room without you even asking.
“Okay, but my parents did leave me money to order out. Plus, I don’t want Bruce thinking I’m using you for money, or anything like that, especially since you keep taking his credit card.” You pointed out to which your boyfriend scoffed in response.
“Please, as much as that man has put me through, maxing out his credit card is the last thing he’s worried about me doing. And don’t worry, he and the rest of the family love you. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you dating me and the fact that you have great parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man didn’t try to adopt you, which, if I haven’t mentioned this already, I don’t recommend.” He finished while heading further down the breakfast food aisle and grabbing boxes of Pop-Tarts.
“Fourth time.” You stated. Jason does not hold back regarding his tense relationship with his adoptive parent.
That was something you’d also been watching him work on. 
When Jason met your parents and saw the relationship between your father and you, it opened up an emotional wound he wasn’t prepared for. And though he still had some resentment toward the Billionaire Playboy, aka the Dark Knight, for not sending Joker to the seventh ring of hell after his death, it didn’t mean he didn’t still care for and love the man. He just had mental blocks he needed to work through, and you’d be there to support him.
Jason was about to give you one of his dorky responses until he realized he forgot the credit card in your car.
“Shoot, I forgot the card in the car. Where’re your keys?” He asked.
You handed them to him, and he gave you a quick kiss and a slap on the ass with a warning to not put anything back before rushing towards the entrance/exit of the store. Rolling your eyes, you moved down the aisle scoffing at his warning. Of course, he knew you were going to try and put some of the items back. Just like you knew him better than himself sometimes, it was the same for him with you. He could predict your next move before it popped into your head which you found very cute but extremely annoying at times.
While you stood there for a few moments scrolling on your phone out of boredom, you heard a voice speak up behind you.
“Excuse me.”
You turned around to see two guys around your age standing behind you. You figured they were trying to get to something behind you, so you moved yourself and your cart out of the way.
“Oh, my bad. Here ya go.”
“No, no! Not that. We were just wondering if you needed help getting your car or getting away from that guy. We saw him drag you in here.”
You barely held back the eye roll that was itching in your skull. Yes, Jason did somewhat have to drag you into the store since you insisted that you didn’t need to go grocery shopping. But, what happened to common sense? If Jason truly was holding you hostage or had bad intentions for you, why in the world would he bring you to a grocery store out of all places?!
Seriously, what were they thinking? That he was going to stick a Fruit-Loops box over your head and torture you with your most hated juice flavor?
A small sigh escaped your mouth before you responded to the boys, “Okay, this is not what it looks like. That guy is my boyfriend, and we’re just grocery shopping. I promise I’m fine.” You assured the guys.
“Are you sure? He isn’t forcing you to say any of this, right? I know that guy’s intimidating, but we can call security or the police to help you.”
Before you could respond, you both heard the sounds of quick footsteps approaching from around the corner. You turned to see him holding a plate with two large slices of pepperoni pizza and a large orange soda.
“Babe, I got you two slices of pizza and your favorite soda from the food court. I know you haven’t eaten today, so I figured you could snack on this, and then we can get you some chicken tenders and fries from your favorite restaurant after we leave here.” He offered while handing you the plate, looking at you with the most adoring gaze.
This boy really did have your whole heart. You could only wonder what you did to deserve someone like him.
When Jason took note of the two other guys standing by you looking dumbfounded, his arm instantly found its way around your waist, pulling you into his side while eyeing the two boys suspiciously and on guard. Anyone that wasn’t your parents, best friend, or his family, Jason saw as a potential threat. Even his family sometimes was included in that list a few times, and living in Gotham, you could never be too careful.
And any excuse for Jason to show you as his to anyone else watching was always an appreciated opportunity.
“Can I help you, fellas?” Jason said, a stern tone in his voice while eyeing the two down with every menacing look he could muster in his eyes.
You’ve never seen two guys who looked like they wanted to shit their pants so bad and run in the opposite direction. They started stuttering out a response before you took pity on them.
“They’re fine, Jay. They were just trying to grab some cereal behind me. I was just moving out of their way.” You threw a look toward the boys, who looked at you confused before they caught on to what you were trying to say.
“Y-Yeah m-man. Just ... um gra-grabbing some Frosted flakes.” One of the dudes said, pointing his fingers toward the boxes right behind you.
Jason eyed that finger with malice before he felt your fingers turning his face toward you.
“Hey, stop it. I’m good. Now, are you going to let them get their cereal and let me eat my pizza before it gets cold?”
A small smile crossed his face while he backed you both up moving the cart as well. You ruffled his hair watching the two boys grab a box and run down the aisle with their tails between their legs. He let out his usual whine, using his other arm to fix his hair.
“Shut up, you big baby. You promised me chicken tenders and fries, so get a move on before I get a food attitude.”
Jason smirked at your words before the hand around your waist moved to your butt, palming and squeezing your cheeks under the ‘hoochie’ shorts you were wearing.
“I know something better that’ll fill you up and take care of that attitude for you.” He whispered in your ear before giving a nip.
At least you weren’t in front of the salads when this was happening.
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This wasn’t bad. It was actually funny, and you got a friend out of it.
You and Jason were at the gym, getting a workout in. You decided you both liked going in the afternoon when it was less busy. It was leg and glutes day for you (per usual) while Jason was working chest and shoulders. 
Two of your favorite body parts on him, including his arms, but that’s not important.
Now, you both agreed when you went to the gym that you would do your workouts separately but your warm-ups and cardio together. So, at some point, Jason was on the Smith machine doing a shoulder bench press while you were on another bench doing Bulgarian split squats.
Of course, the gym was a place where people met each other all the time. And, in many of those meetings and interactions, people would find others attractive and want to date or hook up with them. You were no exception to these rules. You were approached many times by both girls and guys, but you always politely declined. Well, you tried at least before Jason walked over and made it clear who you were with.
It was no secret to anyone that Jason did not only get easily jealous at the thought of you giving your attention and time away to someone who was not him, but he was also the living definition of anger issues. Match that with his very selfish and possessive attitude towards you, and you had a man ready and WILLING to do just about anything to anyone who dared lay a finger on you in the wrong way.
So, whenever someone deemed themselves stupid brave enough to approach you and flirt a little or leave a teasing touch to one of your arms, you’d try to give them a warning but it was always too late. They’d quickly find a towering shadow looming over them and turned to see a less than pleased Jason staring down at them with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. These being one of the few moments Jason gladly showed off his scars because they communicated his message quickly and effectively.
Back. The. Fuck. Off.
That was usually enough to get them to do just that. Most of the time, at least.
There always ended up being at least one guy or girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. This time, it was a guy who kept finding himself next to you during your sets. Jason was watching you from afar with hooded and irritated eyes as he also noticed your gym shadow moving around with you. 
The guy decided to play smart and keep his hands off you since he could tell your brute of a boyfriend was watching his every move. The only reason he didn’t do anything was because he knew if he did, the guy could claim Jason as the aggressor, and since this was your favorite gym because your college’s gym was always crowded, he didn’t want to risk you getting in trouble and banned.
So, when Jason went to the bathroom, the creep took advantage of the moment and offered to ‘spot’ you on your set of squats with the smith machine, which you were sure was just an excuse for him to get behind you so he could ogle your ass and ‘accidentally’ grind his dirty crotch into it.
Luckily, a girl working out nearby noticed your uncomfortable stance when the man came over to ‘help’ you while you were setting up and immediately stopped her workout to shoo him away.
“Dude, he’s clearly not interested. So either go and finish your workout or pack up and get out!”
He tried to get defensive and argue with her, but when she revealed her boyfriend was one of the owners and threatened to have him kicked out and banned, he finally backed off. He made sure to point out how you weren’t even all the hot anyway to mask his hurt pride while you threw an appreciative look toward her.
When he left and Jason returned from the bathroom, the girl unleashed her rage on him as well.
“And you too! I’ve seen you harassing and stalking him all over the gym. I’ll kick your ass out too and have you banned if you don’t leave him alone.” She scolded the dark-haired man.
Jason looked confused while you just laughed before grabbing his arm and pulling him to you, “Nah, don’t worry about him. This one’s good.” You said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, even though you had to stretch a little bit.
Jason pouted down at you in childish anger, “I told you don’t do that! Do you know how long it takes to get this in the right floppy position?” He whined while trying to fix his hair.
She looked back and forth between you two before realization dawned upon her.
“Boyfriend who’s a menace to everyone but is a total baby when around you?”
You gasped, “Girl, how’d you know?”
“Mine’s the exact same.”
“Oh, we’re gonna be great friends.” You declared.
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Okay, this time, it was lowkey your fault, but still. People should be able to tell the difference between an actual cry for help and a joke.
Jason decided to take you to one of his favorite cafes in Gotham since you were in desperate need of a study break. You picked up some classes over the summer, so the schedule was much more tightly packed since they had to speed up a four-month course into two with the semester being divided into two sections.
Jason was sitting on one of the lounge chairs reading while you were sipping on some apple juice and reading a fanfic story on your phone. Whether or not it was smut was not important and nobody would be able to tell by the look on your face. At least until you read over one particular part that had you gasping out loud which managed to catch your boyfriend’s attention.
“What?”
“Nothing.” You quickly said, liking the fic quickly and closing the browser, knowing Jason was not going to drop it.
“Uh uh, Bugs. What were you looking at?” He asked, setting his book on the table and moving over to your side of the table.
“Nothing Jay! I promise it was nothing.”
“Oh really? So you wouldn’t mind if I looked at your phone then?”
You felt your cheeks heat up while Jason took notice of your tense stance, peering at you and your phone while slowly leaning toward you from his crouched stance.
“Let me see your phone.”
“No.”
“Give me your phone.”
“I said no.”
“Bugs,” Jason said, now mocking a stern look on his face, “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”
He held out his hand for emphasis, and you felt your fingers reflexively tighten around your smart device. You stared back at him with your own dour expression, “No. Means. No.”
You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he suddenly grabbed at your phone, attempting to snatch it from your hand. It became a tug-of-war over the device while you both consciously tried not to be too much of a disturbance to the other patrons of the cafe.
This is where it accidentally was your fault.
“Help! Assault! Violence! Thief!”
You thought you were shouting it quietly, but there was a reason your family always told you to quiet down when you thought you were speaking at a normal volume. You got it from your mother really. Strong voices and all…
“Dude, fucking back off!”
You both heard the deep voice shout before you watched a guy tackle Jason to the ground, feeling hands coming to your side.
“Oh my god, are you okay?!” This random brunette said while checking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt.
You were FINE. However, you were worried as hell now. Not for Jason at all, cause… Well, ya know.
You were scared for the other guy that had tackled Jason. Your boyfriend did NOT do well with physical touch, considering how long it took him to get comfortable with just cuddling with you. Let alone sudden physical touch? And the man is used to fighting criminals at night and having to be on guard 24/7 if he feels something suddenly grab or touch him? Yeah, you were hoping this didn’t end in a trip to the precinct like last time.
Don’t ask.
“I’m fine. But, I do suggest you quickly get your friend off my boyfriend before he has to go to the hospital.” You assured the girl while warning her at the same time.
She looked at you confused, “Boyfriend? Wait, huh? We thought that guy was attacking you and trying to steal your phone. And don’t worry, my boyfriend’s a professional kickboxer. He can handle him.”
‘Yeah. Mine has anger issues and was trained by Batman and can re-load two guns in under twenty seconds with his arms tied behind his back.’
“AH!”
You both turned your heads to see Jason holding the other guy in a chokehold while looking up at you.
“Aww, man! He spilled my coffee over my book.” Jason whined, “Babe, can you get me another one, please?”
“Yes, Jason. Can you do me a favor and let him go before you break his neck?”
Jason rolled his eyes before releasing the guy, who went into a coughing fit on the ground as he caught his breath.
When he sat back at the table as the girl went to help her boyfriend off the floor after giving you both weird looks, he set your phone on the surface, eyeing you with a quizzical look.
“What?” You asked after he stared at you for a few more minutes.
“Really? Yandere?”
Your heart jumped in your chest, and you were ready to bolt for the door.
“So, all those times you swore you weren’t trying to make me jealous just to get a reaction outta me, were you actually just trying to get me to tie you up and lock you in my room?” He said with a dark look in his eyes and a cheeky smirk on his lips.
HOT BOY DOWN! I REPEAT, HOT BOY DOWN!
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Now, this was just ridiculous. Of course, it made sense, but you were thoroughly pissed off when it happened.
You and Jason had returned to his apartment after having dinner with his family at Wayne Manor. Bruce decided he wanted to have at least one family dinner a month, and since you were considered an honorary Wayne and everyone loved you, of course, you were invited. Jason, on the other hand, was still hesitant.
Even though he was working on his relationship with Bruce and trying to move past his mental scars, his family still brought up some sensitive subjects for him. Typically, they made his insecurities flare up a lot more. You were Jason’s safe space. So, he wasn’t really keen on mixing the things that made him question himself and the person who made him feel the most loved and secure together.
You didn’t push, still wanting to go at his pace and let him bring you around more when he was ready. The day of the dinner, you figured he either had a change of heart or somebody had talked to Jason and convinced him to bring you along, and you had a great time. Jason was a bit quiet throughout the evening, but you could see a small part of him was happy at seeing how you integrated well into his family dynamic. He took great pleasure in how you humbled Dick a few times as well.
But, something was off, but you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew Jason was usually the quieter one out of the rest of his siblings. When you were around, he showed more of his goofiness and playful side. You barely saw that at all tonight. You knew he was watching you as you made conversation with Bruce, argued back and forth with Damian, repeatedly told Tim he needed to get more sleep, snapped photos with Steph, joked with Duke, and even learned a little sign language from Cass.
He watched as you offered to help Alfred with the dishes, who respectfully declined, but did make his appreciation known to you and the others, especially Tim.
“I offer to help you sometimes, Alfred!” Tim shouted while chasing after the butler offering his help.
Usually, Jason would laugh at any moment that came at the expense of Tim’s sanity.
None of that happened. 
So, when you got back to his place, you asked him what was wrong. He remained silent as he just looked at you, but you could see there was a storm behind his eyes. When you came up to rub his arm and hug him, his hands shot up to your neck, wrapping around it firmly but not tight to where you couldn’t breathe.
Your hands grabbed his wrists as he maneuvered you against the wall that connected the living room to the kitchen. He placed his lips roughly on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth while never loosening his hold on your neck.
“Mine. Not theirs, mine.” He muttered against your lips before quickly taking his hands off your neck, ripping your clothes off while ridding himself of his.
In less than two minutes, Jason had you pressed back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, and his long and girthy member tucked deep inside your ass, fucking you with hard and menacing thrusts. His large and rough hands were back around your neck, now squeezing around your neck as you moaned breathlessly against him.
Jason took immense pride in your sounds of satisfaction and whining, increasing his already brutal pace in your guts while slowly stealing more of your breath away. Jason’s hard breaths pounded against your face as he stared at your now sweaty and ragged body, limping weakly against him. You placed your arms on his shoulder but were careful to avoid his neck, knowing that along with some other areas on his body were off-limits unless specified otherwise.
This was the dynamic between you two always. Anyone could see how Jason was wrapped around your finger in public and even in private whenever you two were just lounging around and relaxing. In these moments, you were fully under Jason’s authority. You lay completely at his mercy while he dominated your body and controlled where, when, and how you got pleasured. 
The who rarely came into question as though your boyfriend had considered it a few times, you didn’t see a day likely where Jason’s jealousy and possessiveness would let him allow someone else to see you in this manner. No, you were for his eyes only.
And the why, well that was simple. Jason had needs, you had needs. And, no one was better suited to fulfill those needs than your boyfriend. Though with him, anything could spark those needs at any given time. Whether the dark-haired boy was just feeling horny and wanted some ass. You decided to wear a tempting outfit, and he decided he was going to right then and there he would have you, whether in the house, in the car, or in public, it didn’t matter. If he felt you were being a little too friendly with someone else, he’d be happy to remind you about who you belonged to. The why was simple; if Jason wanted you, he would have you. No ifs, and’s, or but’s about it.
“J-Jason... nngh p-please-” You begged, feeling yourself nearing the edge as your dick was crushed between Jason and your hot and sweaty abdomens.
“Say my name again,” He ordered, feeling how he flexed his dick inside you while still pounding your sore hole.
His name fell from your lips in a needy moan as you felt his fingers pressing against your windpipes. You could feel how the wall behind you became slick from your sweat as your body jutted up and down against it with Jason’s increasingly erratic thrusts.
He grunted in approval of your increasingly loud whines as you both approached your climaxes. Jason fully squeezed your neck at this point as he punched your insides with his cock. Your own member was feeling the pressures as well as it repeatedly smashed against Jason’s abs before you reached your end, screaming out in blissful agony.
Jason came to his finish with his own groan as you felt him bury himself with his cum deep inside you. You let out soft little whines feeling his appendage throb against your walls. Even though you knew he didn’t like hands around his neck, he didn’t object to you rubbing a hand down his nape. He gave you a warning glance at first, but when he felt your soft hands rubbing up and down his skin, he visibly relaxed, placing a kiss on your cheek.
The quiet and sweet moment though was abruptly ruined by the sound of Jason’s front door being kicked in and heavy boots rushing into his apartment.
“GOTHAM P.D.!” You heard the intruders shout.
Of all the fucking things…
Well, when the cops came around and found you and your naked boyfriend against the wall, and his hands around your neck, you had to admit it didn’t look good.
You had to quickly explain to the officers it wasn’t what it looked like and that everything was consensual. Against the orders of the cops, Jason did not move one inch off the wall, keeping your body covered with his. He’d sooner dip himself in another Lazarus Pit than let these arrogant blue caps have even the smallest peek at you.
So, with a little charm and finesse, you convinced the cops to walk out and let you and him get dressed. Jason couldn’t decide what he was more upset about. 
The fact that his door was off its hinges, or that one of his neighbors called the cops on him thinking Jason had been abusing you, or that your private moment was intruded upon and some pervy cops basically saw you naked.
Yeah, he was going to be extra brutal on patrol tonight.
After a call was made to Commonionser Gordon at Jason’s request, the cops dropped everything and left you two alone when Gordon made it clear this was a bogus call.  “Jason? Abusing Y/N? That boy is the biggest simp this city’s ever seen. Whoever called that in was obviously misinformed.”
Even if it was true, Jason didn’t appreciate being called a simp. He didn’t deny it, though.
You could barely hold back your laughs to which your boyfriend responded with a harsh smack to your very sore ass. It was a wonder how you were even standing on your legs as they still felt like jelly.
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“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see him in that manner.”
“No way, he’s way too sweet and innocent to be like that.”
“Dude, have you met your own boyfriend?”
These were all things said to Jason when he would complain to them about how he was tired of everyone thinking he was a threat to you and not seeing the truth. If anything, you were more of a threat to Jason and honestly, should be placed on a national security watch list for some of the things that have come out of your mouth.
The only one who really knew and understood what Jason was talking about was your best friend, who was the first one to warn Jason. The boy didn’t believe him either at first and ended up finding out the hard way.
Well, it looked like Jason’s brothers were also about to find out as they had come to your school’s campus looking for him. You were happy to see the Wayne siblings, as some time had passed since the last dinner. For some reason, seeing how easily you interacted with his brothers drove up Jason’s jealousy to a new level. As soon as they showed up, Jason placed you on his lap, and you could feel his prominent bulge throbbing under you. You knew immediately you were in for it when you both got home.
When you got up to go to the bathroom, Jason was going to follow you, intending to give you a little preview of what to expect in the stalls, but was stopped by Dick, who said they had something important they needed to talk to him about.
Before that could happen, a new presence appeared at your table, and your best friend visibly and audibly groaned at who it was.
“Hi there.” Jason heard a sickly sweet voice say, turning to see another boy he’d heard of.
“Xavion.” Jason heard your best friend mutter under his breath.
He knew that name. He’d heard you curse it and mutter it in irritation and anger plenty of times. He purposefully went out of his way to piss you off and pick with you on multiple occasions. He also thought that because his dads were rich and gave him everything he wanted, he was entitled to anything and everything, including other people’s significant others.
No one knew what started the rivalry between you two, but they knew it got cemented when he had sex with your first college boyfriend while you guys were dating and then went on to sleep with any guy you had the slightest attraction to.
So, Jason would be no different when he placed himself a little too close for the dark-haired boy’s liking, trying to maneuver himself away.
“I’ve seen you around on campus before. Are you a student here?”
“Xavion, don’t you have someone else to harass and stalk?” Your best friend commented with an irritated eye roll.
The boy in question only threw a dirty glance at your comrade before turning back to your boyfriend, taking considerable delight in looking him up and down, “Damn, aren’t you a big boy. You’re Y/N’s boyfriend, right? Gotten bored yet?”
Everyone tensed at that, watching how Xavion only got bolder in his flirting, “I’d understand if you did. Y/N’s just not that interesting, and honestly, a little ran through. I’d be happy to show you other options though,” He voiced with a suggestive tone.
Dick, Tim, and Damian watched with slightly nervous eyes as the promiscuous boy moved his hand that was caressing Jason’s arm and placed it around his neck, waiting for the ball to drop as the second Wayne kid's hands began to twitch on the table.
Before anyone could move to stop it, they saw Xavion get literally yanked off of Jason and onto the ground. Your boyfriend and his siblings along with your best friend who began to cheer your name watched as you dragged the slut onto the ground by the back of his shirt and proceeded to WHALE on him.
No one had noticed you coming back from the bathroom, too busy watching Xavion rub his hands all over your boyfriend. When you got closer and saw what was happening, you immediately saw red and picked up your pace, only to dash into a mad sprint when you saw his hand touch Jason’s neck.
Jason after breaking out of his stunned trance immediately ran over to pull you off the screaming boy who was crying for help. Dick and Tim ran over to pull Xavion out of your grasp, just barely managing to save him from what would have been a devastating kick from your boot to his face.
“Touch my boyfriend again and see what happens bitch!” You shouted out at the boy. Luckily, you were in a secluded part of campus, so no one had seen the fight. But, when Xavion had gotten off the ground looking thoroughly fucked up, he tried to run up on you, seeing Jason holding you back and thinking he had an open shot.
Little did he or Jason expect, you used your smaller stature to slip out of Jason’s hold and rushed the boy before kicking your leg up and landing that hit that was taken from you earlier. You took sick satisfaction hearing and feeling the crunch under your foot as it connected with his nose.
Dick, Tim, and Damian watched in complete shock seeing you beat the shit out of this boy. Now, they could really see why you and Jason were such a good match for each other.
When Jason got you back in his arms, he made sure to hold on a little tighter to you so you couldn’t slip away again. Dick and Tim had to help the sobbing boy cradling his broken nose, saying they would take him to the emergency room.
Jason pulled you both back towards the table, sitting you down on his lap as he held your hands down. He could not help how hard he was under you and didn’t care to hide it. Watching that display had him a different level of horny and he frankly couldn’t wait to take you home.
After a few moments passed and you settled down, everyone looked up to the sound of a throat clearing.
“Todd, I don’t know if I ever told you this before,” Damian started, looking at you both with his usual judgemental stare, “...Good job.” He said with a nod toward you.
You were both surprised, Jason especially, as neither of you had ever heard the youngest Robin give out a compliment.
“If you screw this up somehow, which I have little doubt that you’ll find a way, I will not hesitate to end you.”
There was the Damian you both knew.
“I second that motion,” Your best friend added to which you just laughed.
“Shut it, gremlin.” Jason retorted before squeezing you against his body.
“Don’t worry, Damian. I don’t think Jason will do anything to screw this up. Besides, if he does do something stupid, he’ll have me to worry about.” You said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
You heard Jason growl lowly against you before grinding you into his lap, letting you feel his hardness poking you through your shorts. You popped his arm to which he responded with a pinch on your ass, your best friend watching in disgusted amusement.
“You two make me sick.”
“Back at you, ugly.” You responded.
Damian turned his head, looking in the direction where Dick and Tim took Xavion to an ER room, “I despise harlots.”
“OH! Speaking of which, thank you, Damian, for reminding me.” You said before leaning over Jason to grab your bag and pull out your laptop.
“What are you doing?” Your boyfriend asked.
“Insurance. I knew the day would come when that hoe went too far. So just in case he decides to go to the university about this little spat, I’m emailing a detailed description of how everything went down, along with photos and evidence of his affairs with various teachers and staff. To them, it will look like Xavion attacked me out of retaliation because he thought I would snitch on him about his sexual misconduct. Now, tell me, babe, did you feel physically violated?” You asked while making various edits to your already drafted email.
“Huh?” Jason replied confused.
“Just say yes.” Your best friend told him with a smirk.
“Um, yes? I think…”
“Perfect! Putting that down for the record, so, if that slut decides to try to get me in trouble, I can show I had completely justifiable reasons to hand him his ass on a concrete platter.” You stated a little too cheerily to be considered not disturbing.
Your best friend was not surprised by this at all, while Damian and Jason looked at you like you had two heads.
“Isn’t the expression ‘silver platter?’” Damian pointed out.
“Yeah, but I dragged his ass up and down on concrete, so it’s a concrete platter today.”
You looked up to see the two Robins staring at you.
“What? Bitches fucked around, so bitches found out. Don’t blame me.” You said while continuing to type.
“I fucking love you,” Jason said while biting at your ear lobe, making you laugh.
Damian could only scoff as he watched you two.
“And people swear Todd’s the threat.”
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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llamagoddessofficial · 3 months
Note
llama i must know
do you have any thoughts about siren bad sanses? 👉👈(//ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠//)
do i
Horror: Now, Skull is a cecaelia. But I think Horror would be a little different. A big frightening toothed whale - particularly, a Risso's dolphin. Risso's dolphins have a cool effect where any time they get an injury, their scars lose pigment and remain white forever. Horror is slowly turning whiter and whiter as time goes on.
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Just like usual, he used to be normal sized, but his injury kickstarted a bizarre growth spurt and he's become far larger than he ever should've. He enjoys targeting boats - since he's so big he can easily sink small ships, his favourite 'game' is ramming vessels and seeing who survives after the ship rolls over. He eats anyone who drowns.
I can imagine him falling in love with you from the water, and rocking your boat purely to get your attention. If you ignore him he slams into the hull in frustration. He'd never sink your boat, of course... not unless you were really, REALLY ignoring him, and he lost his temper.
Dust: An oceanic whitetip shark. The beautiful dark colouring. The 'dusty' white edges of the fins and tail. A solitary, wandering creature that's probably responsible for many of the open-water shark attacks attributed to other species... IMO, it's absolutely perfect.
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Before joining Nightmare, he travelled long distances in isolation, avoiding large vessels or groups but hunting down and killing anyone (or anything) he caught alone. He'll follow prey for weeks; he often waits for people on boats to go stir crazy before he attacks.
He's a distant admirer. He'll stalk from afar, but come closer at night, when it's hard to distinguish his dark shape against the moonlit sea. He thinks you'll be a very pretty siren.
Killer: @aka-indulgence suggested Killer is a bull shark and she's absolutely right. Killer is hyperactive and murderous, but incredibly loyal to those he cares about (even if he won't admit he cares). Bull sharks are fast, notoriously aggressive, yet surprisingly social.
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Killer just enjoys... well, killing. He sometimes plays with his prey, but the games are never as forgiving as Horror's, or as patient as Dust's. He likes to bite the limbs off of his targets and watch them struggle to get away.
He's extremely friendly to you. Worryingly so. He lacks any subtlety, he'll come right up to your boat and put his arms over the edge when he wants your attention, flirting like you didn't just watch him murder another siren in cold blood. A swift strike with an oar is usually enough to ward him off - but unfortunately, it never seems to chase him away permanently.
Nightmare: He isn't any one species. He's much, much older. He was something else before his corruption... but times change, don't they? If you don't know what to call him, he certainly doesn't mind the ego stroke of being called a kraken.
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Obviously it would be ridiculous of me to make Nightmare anything other than a cecaelia. He's large, scary, black as midnight sea, beautifully bioluminescent when he wants to be. He has attributes of lots of different deep-sea creatures; retractable hooks in his tentacles, a toxic bite, terrifying teeth, incredible vision. He's not the kind of thing you want to encounter underwater. Ever.
The other sirens would be very reluctant to let Nightmare know you exist. But when all three of his underlings are chasing the same prey... well. You'll catch his eye sooner or later.
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hannieehaee · 3 months
Note
Hi :) can you please make a svt reaction about their gf receiving tons of love confessions on a daily basis ? <3
you receiving love confessions from other people
content: established relationship, some jealousy is involved, gender neutral reader, etc.
wc: 1011
a/n: hiii thank u for requesting i loved this concept hehe <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
he wouldnt want to show it, but he'd become a little territorial whenever you told him about yet another person inquiring about your relationship status. although he would be confident in your relationship, he would still feel annoyed at knowing so many people thought they even had a chance with you. his jealousy would only manifest in pouts and whines in complaint, but he would sometimes get sulky about it for a while.
jeonghan -
would somehow tease you about it. would also laugh at the mere idea of anyone else thinking they could ever have a chance with you. he'd be wayyy overconfident about how much you liked him (with good reason), so he would constantly bring up how obsessed with him you must be to constantly turn a blind eye to every single one of your suitors in favor of being with him instead.
joshua -
mostly amused. he knew from the moment he met you that you must get a lot of attention (i mean, you did get his undivided attention upon the first glance), so he wouldnt be surprised if that was still the case even while you were in a relationship with him. he wouldnt see any harm in it, simply chuckling in amusement whenever someone would attempt to get with you, knowing you were already happily spoken for.
jun -
he understood why it happened, he just wasnt a fan. he's not a jealous guy, but he also doesnt enjoy watching people try and flirt with you any time he's away from your side for more than five seconds. he'd express his discomfort to you in the form of whines and pouts, choosing to stick to you like glue in order to prevent people believing you werent spoken for. he'd ask you to never let him know if people hit on you while he wasnt around. he'd know it happened, but he'd choose to live in denial.
soonyoung -
idk how to explain this properly but he would get so touchy and clingy if he ever sensed anyone showing any type of non-platonic interest towards you. he's not possessive per say, but he would get sulky if he sensed anyone even thinking of you in a way that was anything more than friendly. knowing you got confessions on a daily basis would have him attached to your hip 24/7 to 'subtly' let people know you were taken.
wonwoo -
wouldn't really think much of it. he's always been a bit of a heartthrob himself (i mean, he was known around his neighborhood for being handsome ..), so he would shrug off the constant attention you got in the same way he shrugged off the attention he's always gotten. he would feel some pride at knowing how strong your feelings were for one another to never consider even looking at anyone else.
jihoon -
if you told him you had gotten a few confessions here and there, he would shrug it off and reason it was only to be expected since you were such a catch. however, if he were ever to actually see someone confess or hit on you while he was present, he would scoff and get immediately frustrated at the sight. he's a lowkey guy, so he wouldnt cause a scene or anything, but his jealousy would easily begin to show. he'd need reassurance from you to go back to his calm self, but would now become touchier as if to show dominance.
seokmin -
he would be one of the many people sending you love confessions on the daily. ok, not really (since he already had you all to himself), but he knew how gorgeous and likable you were, so he couldnt bring himself to blame anyone who showed interest in you. would even relish in knowing other people saw all the charms you had to offer.
mingyu -
too busy warding off all the love confessions heading his way to even realize you were kind of in the same boat. he's wanted by everyone (re: that video from nana tour where the lady literally stops in her tracks to check him out) and he gets attention constantly (re: the million times in which random ppl in nana tour struck convo with him), so be assured that this man understands the struggle and would absolutely not pay it any mind.
minghao -
would find it amusing how other people thought you'd ever even give them the time of day when you had him. he was extremely secure of your relationship, so be would never feel threatened at you having many options for a partner. he'd even feel a bit cocky knowing he was the one and only person you wanted.
seungkwan -
a little bit peeved by it. not jealous or anything like that (he's super confident in your relationship), but more so annoyed that other people would dare look past your boyfriend (him; boo seungkwan; vocalist of boy group seventeen), and still try and shoot their shot. would straight up mock anyone who dared even consider trying to express their interest towards you (behind their backs, but still!).
vernon -
you got another person stopping you in the street to ask for your number? cool. he wouldnt really mind it. i mean, he knows you're hot and funny and likable and basically possess every good quality in the world, so why should he be surprised that other people are aware of that too? would be completely chill about it and even ask you to keep him updated on any instance in which someone tried to hit on you (for entertainment reasons, of course).
chan -
maybe a teeny tiny bit jealous at seeing the fourth person today try and charm your number out of you (despite chan being right there!!). he knew you were an absolute catch, but it still threw him off a bit whenever other people would acknowledge that fact. would need a bit of reassurance from you to feel less bugged by it and would eventually even make the whole thing into an inside joke between the two of you.
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star-anise · 2 years
Text
This is what the fight is like
Sooo, apparently the extremely tenuous and recent nature of the LGBTQ+ community's legal right to exist was not actually super widely known to a lot of people on Tumblr?
Which clarifies some stuff in retrospect. I have so often wanted to grab people by their lapels and shout, "Stop picking on someone for not meeting your entry requirements! We need everyone we can get, you asshole! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY HATE US OUT THERE?"
Aaaapparently... no, they did not know. Or they knew and were a conservative psyop preparing the ground for our loss of legal rights. Fun times!
So: Look, it is bad. Shit is scary. They really do hate us out there. You're not wrong.
But: This is what we've always fought. This boat we're in with its antique fittings and strange markings on the floor is a battleship. Work has always been going on in the basements, and when shit gets tough, we clear away clutter and roll out the cannons.
I found this chart a couple weeks ago and hung onto it because it felt like the map to my first 25 years on this earth:
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[Image description: A graph titled "Same Sex Marriage: Public Polls since 1988." It is from FiveThirtyEight's NYT column. It records the percentage of US Americans polled who would say yes or no to legalizing same-sex marriage, from 1988 to 2011.
The two lines begin with roughly 10% saying yes in 1988, and 70% saying no; the two lines gradually draw closer over the years, until by 2011, the percent saying finally dips under 50%, and the group saying yes makes a tentative reach for the majority. End of image description.]
After some great social change has happened, when everyone has admitted that gay marriage is very cute and Pride is a colourful parade, hooray, people like to pretend that it was just natural and inevitable and happened on its own. People just became less prejudiced! Courts just decided on a case! Governments just passed a law!
In reality, it was a vicious fucking fight, every fucking time. Every fucking where. There are a lot of people who deeply, sincerely believe that a hundred years ago, society had good rules about sex and gender and intercourse and marriage, and that changing those rules has made the world worse. They don't always agree on the specifics, but they can work together far enough to fight anyone with new ideas.
This is why we are a community. Even when we don't have the same experiences of attraction or identity, even when we don't do the same things, even when we have wildly different ideas of a good time. Because when these groups take aim, we're all under fire, and none of us is responsible for why they hate us.
In some ways I think it's a miracle that there seems to be a generation that did not grow up, as I grew up, constantly glued to news reports about What Percentage of Society Hates Us this month. I can't imagine who I'd be if my brain and heart and soul hadn't been tied up, that whole time, in the political question of whether I'd get to dream of a decent future.
I think that it will give us strength to have people who can imagine a world where no one hates us. Who believe in it so strongly they can taste it. That's my prediction: If you didn't know this was coming, you'll be a boon to us, because we have always needed joy so fiercely, in this fight, to keep us going on. We have needed drag queens and punk bands and "her wife" and safe space stickers. Parade floats and wedding days and little dogs with rainbow collars, badges and banners and meetups, because more than anything else we need to fight our own despair, and our fear that the world will never get any better than this.
It will. We know it will. We can taste it.
Look up to the history, organizations, and people who've got us this far for information on what forms of activism will actually advance our political goals. Look to the side to make sure the comrades within reach are keeping their heads above water, and that you're keeping enough joy going to stay alive. Look back to see who's more vulnerable than you are that you might have forgotten or been tempted to leave behind. Look after each other. Look after yourself.
We can do this.
To your battle stations.
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tojiwrd · 10 months
Text
6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru
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pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.
content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!
word count 4k
a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3
send thoughts ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist
Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.
Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 
It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?
“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”
Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.
“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 
You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 
“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”
You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.
Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.
“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”
You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”
You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.
She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 
Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 
Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”
You froze, stunned and silent. 
“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—
“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 
“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 
Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”
You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 
“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”
You were sure you had moved past everything. 
After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 
No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.
Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 
‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 
You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 
You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 
You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?
As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.
“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”
You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 
“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”
“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”
You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”
“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”
You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”
You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”
“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”
“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.
But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”
You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”
“But she—”
“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”
You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 
Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 
And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 
By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.
When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 
“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.
He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”
And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 
“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 
You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”
Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 
“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’
“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.
His reply was instant. “Anything.”
“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”
It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 
“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”
“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”
“No. How…”
“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”
He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 
“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”
A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 
“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 
“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”
“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”
“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”
And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.
“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”
You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”
“Do you?” he asked.
“Do I what?”
“Have that chance at being happy?”
You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 
“I do.”
He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”
You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 
He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 
Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 
“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”
And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.
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abrunettefangirlnerd · 10 months
Text
Overwhelmed
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Prompt: Reader has bouncing between so many things in her life that is leaving her chronically exhausted. It hasn’t been too much of a problem until one afternoon. The only one that seems to notice is JJ.
Warnings: Near death experience
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The blinding sun crinkles your eyes as you drive your way to the Chateau. Sweat beats down your entire body from the day working with your father. He is a construction worker with his own company, and you work with him during the summer for some spending money. Even though he is your father, he still has you doing all the same heavy lifting as anyone else that works for him.
Normally every summer has been fine. You also work at a local gym on Figure 8 almost every day for a few hours. You’d work with your dad in the morning, work at the gym in the afternoon, and hangout or relax with your friends in the evening. 
Though for some reason this summer your dad thinks any free time you have will be with him, unless you’re sleeping of course. You’ve had talks with him, and he always seems to be on the same page. That is until he starts telling you all that he needs help with and how you are going to come and help before and after the gym all week.
Luckily today ended up being a day he didn’t have much for you to do. Instead of wasting another second you made a beeline for your friends before he could change his mind. You love your dad, and the extra cash, but trying to keep up with work and maintaining your social life leaves very little room to just breathe. 
Though you find yourself struggling to try. From the constant buzz of life that has become almost normal, you find yourself getting anxious anytime you are just laying around. Even if you are with your friends. Anytime you aren’t on the boat or helping with the newest endeavor of finding the gold, you feel like you should be doing something.
“Hey it’s my girl!” JJ shouts from the couch on the porch. Beer in hand.
“Hey babe.” You say with a smile after greeting him with a kiss. “Did you guys catch anything on the boat?”
“Not much but we did manage to save some leftovers for you,” your best friend John B offers. “It’s only been sitting out a few minutes.”
Feeling your stomach rumble, you assure him that you are hungry enough to eat it raw. Walking into the kitchen you let your smile faulter. You allow the wandering exhaustion to settle over you for a moment. Holding back the exhaustion is exhausting enough.
You feel the nice warm water wash your hands of drywall dust, paint, and sweat. Heading over to the counter you find your plate and grab a fork before rejoining the boys. Kie apparently has to work tonight since she was out all day with the boys. Though she promised to come back over after her shift at The Wreck.
You take the empty seat next to JJ, and as you do an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. As you dig into your dinner you hope that the guys haven’t noticed. If they ask you if everything is okay, you’re afraid some tears of frustration and tiredness would break through. Instead you focus your attention on the food in front of you and the latest pointless debate between the boys. Before you know it, every last bite on the plate is gone.
“Hey lets go back out on the HSM Pogue!” John B excitedly gets up. “Sun is setting, nice night dip.”
Everyone excitedly agrees and you head into the spare bedroom to slip into your swimsuit. As you pull up your straps, completing your ensemble, there is a knock on the door. Without asking who it is, you tell them to come in. Only one person would want to come in and that is JJ. It is basically his room after all.
Closing the door behind him, JJ takes in the sight of you. The newly defined muscles on your arms and legs from the work with your dad. You can’t complain about the benefit of the job. Though when his eyes meet yours all you can see is concern.
“If you’d rather stay in and relax I’ll stay with you.” JJ offers you. An overwhelming sweep of adoration floods through your senses, but next comes the wave of anxiety. No, I can’t do nothing.
“It’s okay, we can go on the boat.” Your voice upbeat and convincing of the energy you do not contain. “I’m fine.”
Even as the last two words leave your lips, tears form behind your eyes. Thankfully the room is dark, no power on the Cut from the hurricane. Unconvinced, JJ nods and heads back out with the other two. You take two deep breathes as you clear your eyes and slow your now racing heart. With a quick nod at yourself in the mirror, you make your way out to the HSM Pogue.
The sound of the waves hitting against the boat is almost enough to pull you to sleep. That and the warmth of JJ’s arm around your waist. Leaning into him you find your eyes fluttering shut every few minutes. If this wasn’t the first time you’d physically seen everybody in days, you would have just stayed at the Chateau with JJ.
Situating yourself, you lean toward the cooler for a cold beer. Even though you know alcohol is a narcotic it just gives you something to do than think about how tired you are. From the corner of your eye you see JJ analyzing you. Aside from a beer here and there, you aren’t much of a drinker. It isn’t until you send him a smile that he drops his watchful gaze and smiles back.
“This looks like a good spot.” John B insists as he slows the boat to a stop and throws the anchor over.
The four of you jump into the cool water. The sudden alertness gifted by the water sends you through the break into the sky. Though as your body adjusts to its temperature the feeling of exhaustion returns.
JJ wraps his arms around you and peppers your face with kisses. Squealing, you try to pry him away from you but your efforts are futile. Taking your frame in his, JJ manages to throw you a few feet in the direction of Pope. Who of course fakes offence at the unseen attack. Water is thrashed around by each person until a full blown water war breaks out.
Swimming around to the boat, you take deep breathes as you watch the boys continue splashing around. You plan to hide out for a bit before climbing onto the boat and performing a cannon ball that will soak everyone. The splash to end all splashes. Not wanting to spoil the fun yet, you float on your back in the water. 
You close your eyes and feel the cool water soak into your warm skin. The aches and pains from the day’s work unravel from your body. Dark clouds filter behind your eyelids as the sounds around you become more muffled. You know you should get up but you can’t will your body to move. 
The water around you laps farther up your face, and within a few moments you’re completely submerged into the water. Making the mistake to breathe, a burning sensation fills your lungs and your body fights out of its own slumber. But you’ve already breathed in too much water and your body is still too exhausted to propel your body toward the surface. 
**
Looking around JJ realizes that he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a few minutes. He calls out (Y/N)’s name while circling around the boat. Giving up on swimming, JJ climbs up on the boat and surveys around the best he can in the dark.
Panic rises within JJ’s chest and his breathing becomes labored. JJ knew he should have suggested harder that you two stay at the Chateau. He could tell through (Y/N)’s eyes how exhausted she truly is. Just a few nights ago he went to surprise her at home. Crawled in through her window with a big bag of snacks and drinks that will keep her up well into the night. However, the moment JJ wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) was knocked out cold.
With his shaking hands, JJ grabs for a flashlight and shines it on the water. JJ knows he won’t be able to see anything but he can’t think straight. Just before he is ready to radio for help he sees a bubble rise to his right.
Not wasting any time, JJ dives into the water. His eyes spot (Y/N) a few feet down from him, unmoving. A shot of ice cold fear radiates through his body as he fights his limbs to move him toward (Y/N). JJ wraps his arms around her waist and propels his legs to break the surface above.
“HELP!!” JJ screams to John B and Pope. “HELP!!”
The guys hear him and turn to face his panic-stricken face. Realizing that (Y/N) is in JJ’s arms, the guys spring into action. John B gets onto the boat while Pope joins JJ and lifts (Y/N)’s limp body. JJ grabs onto the boat and pulls his body up and is quickly joined by Pope.
“Tell me how to do CPR!” JJ frantically shouts to Pope.
“You think I know?”
“You’re the fucking genius,” JJ lays you flat on your back, “so help me goddammit! I can’t lose her!”
“Okay okay!” Pope presses his fingers against his temple as he thinks about what to do. “Chest compressions! Two sets of 30 and then mouth to mouth. Check for breathing and then start over!”
JJ places his hands over (Y/N)’s chest and begins to press up and down. His actions start off timid, afraid that he will hurt her but feverishly picks up when he sees there is no change. Lowering his mouth to (Y/N)’s, JJ breathes air past her lips and sees her chest rise and fall. JJ can’t believe that only moments ago the last time he was this close the two of you were kissing, and now he is trying to breathe life into her.
I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s my everything. I can’t lose her…
JJ presses up and down (Y/N)’s chest to this mantra. Years ago, his mother left and his father became a raging drunk who is always on someone else’s meds. (Y/N) made him stable, made his life feel stable. Without her, JJ is scared he will end up just like his father. (Y/N) has showed him that there is more to life than the Outer Banks. They always talked about leaving one day, buying a house, running a business, and eventually starting their own family. Right now, all those happy plans are slipping past JJ’s fingertips along with (Y/N).
**
A burning rush of water flows up your throat as a coughing fit surges through your chest. Grabbing on to something nearby, you flip on your side to help expel the contents. Even as all the water leaves your system you keep coughing and feel as though you will never stop.
After what feels like forever, your coughing subsides and you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso. As you take in what happened, you feel your body begin to shake at the realization that you could have died. Tears flood your cheeks and fall against JJ’s bare shoulders. That’s when you register that JJ is shaking as well.
“JJ,” you say as your hand holds the back of his head, “I’m okay. It’s okay.”
JJ doesn’t speak but shakes his head against your skin. His head fits in the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing in your sent. It’s as if he doesn’t believe that you are awake and breathing.
“JJ look at me.” You whisper.
Reluctantly JJ’s eyes meet yours. You see his blood shot eyes and tear-stricken face. JJ leans his forehead against yours as his fingers run through your hair. A pit hits the bottom of your stomach as you think about how worried JJ was and how reckless you were.
“Next time,” JJ takes a deep breath as his voice catches, “can we just stay at the Chateau?”
“Yes, yes.” You sigh in relief.
JJ connects your lips with his. The kiss starts off soft and gentle, but JJ quickly turns it hungry and desperate. It’s as if he needs you instead of air. In this moment you make yourself a promise that you won’t over work yourself from now on. You’ve realized that you aren’t the only one that will become overwhelmed.
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eetherealgoddess · 5 months
Text
ꨄBeneath The Watersꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Mermen/Soulmate Au
❦Y/n, a new marine biologist, was working along with her older brother and coworkers on a trawler. They come across the most ethereal yet dangerous sea creatures. Survival rate? Guess who the one percent is❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
Mermaid language is blue
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
The guys are mermen princes and they’re all brothers. Their dad is the king so because of their royal blood, they have the gift of singing which puts their victims in a trance, and can form legs. They can also change any human they want into mermaids. They can understand human language but have a harder time speaking it. ‘Human’ language is all languages btw I’m just doing english bc that’s the only language I know.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Beneath the Waters
“Did you receive the latest sample for the lab, Y/n?” Darius, her older brother asks as he stands beside her resting form on the trawler. The waves of the ocean rocking the ride slightly as the current carries them on.
“Yes, for the fiftieth time.” She sighs, sitting up from her leaned position against the side of the boat. She pulls her sunglasses off as she places them inside of her backpack. He nods in response as he chuckles.
“Sorry, I just want to make sure you have everything.” He scratches the back of his head with a sheepish smile. She smirks light heartedly as she shifts her arms to rest against her knees which are bent as the platform of her shoes are plastered against the floor.
“There’s nothing to be worried about. I got this! Yeah, I’m new to this thing but you know more than anyone else that I’m a fast learner when I put my mind to something.” She states, waving her hands as she gives him a comforting smile.
He sighs as he looks across the water, “Yeah, yeah I know.” He places his hands in his pockets. “I’m proud of you, Y/n. You’ve come far in this industry.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me now, dude.” She laughs, standing from her spot after their coworkers are heard yelling. She eyes her brother with a raised brow, him mimicking the same expression out of confusion.
The trawler rocks as they walk toward the gathering of individuals, four of them bent as they seem to be pulling a net from the outer side of the boat. Everyone else stands around them. When she gets closer, her eyes widen as she notices a large pink tail flapping around the net violently.
One of the men seems to be holding it down as the woman beside him moves her arms around as if she’s wrapping something quickly. Y/n and Darius walk beside one of the designated divers.
“Check this baby out!” She exclaims, standing from her position as she moves out of the way. Y/n’s eyes widen at the sight of an ethereal looking man. Despite his narrowed icy blue eyes glaring at the employees, nobody could deny the intense beauty of the man’s face. His blonde eyelashes cause his irises to pop as his long platinum hair lays out gorgeously under him, some falling over his shoulders.
Once his wrists are tied, they pull him over the boat, still wrapped in the net as he struggles against his restraints. His long nails, sharp as he accidentally cuts his own skin. Y/n could only look as she felt guilt suddenly overtake her mind. After they bound his tail, holding it down, Y/n had enough.
“I think we should let i-, him go, guys.” Everyone, except the mermaid turns to look at her as if she just grew two heads. Her hands place themselves on her hips as she eyes them back.
“Y/n, you’re new so I’m just going to let this slide. You see, this is a one chance in a lifetime kind of deal, you get it? We’d be the second in years to have not only discovered, but captured a real life mermaid. There’s no way we’re letting him go.”
“But why can’t we just study them down in the ocean as we swim? I know that some can be dangerous but not all of them are.” She suggests.
“Because they are dangerous creatures as a whole. They don’t just think like a fish they can act and think like a human which is bad for us. Not to mention, we’re their choice of food besides other species of fish.”
“I get that but we have gear for that, don’t we?”
“Y/n, stop! Okay? It’s fine, they can breathe for at least twenty four hours outside of water and we’ll put it in a secure tank. If you’re worried about its well-being, it will be fine.” Darius explains, trying to keep her from getting fired.
The blonde merman’s eyes shift back and forth between the two humans conversing, particularly observing the woman who is speaking for the merman. Under the cloth, he licks his lips as he smells the divine scent spewing from the female, closing his eyes as he inhales. The smell brings his tense body to a tingling, relaxed sensation, a deep purr emitting from his body as his eyes shut.
“Fine, alright! I’m sorry. I’ll leave it alone.” She sighs, crossing her arms as she turns away, refusing to look at the creature with pity.
“Alright, everyone! Let’s get this show rolling!”One guy says as they walk over to the netted merman. Before any could move any further, a high pitched whistle sounded in the air, causing everyone to pause. Y/n’s eyes widen in concern as some of the coworkers stop their movements. Everyone stares across the ocean, over the being that’s lying down.
“Shit! Everyone, grab the ear plugs!” Someone yells out.
Y/n immediately turns her body as she runs to her bag. Roughly grabbing the ear plugs as she shoves them into her ears as the sound of a melody occurs. She sighs in relief as she stands from her crouched position, sound muffled as she turns around. Her breath hitches as she watches everyone slowly walk towards the edge of the trawler as they look to be in a trance.
“No!” She yells as she runs to Darius, roughly gripping his arms as she pulls him in a hug, his heavy body walking ahead as if she weighs nothing.
“No! Please, Darius! Wake up!” She smacks his face multiple times as he continues his stroll.
A muffled tune could be heard once more through her ear plugs as she eyes the ocean, four heads peeking from below as only their eyes are shown glaring at the crowd coming toward them.
“Fuck! Darius, wake up! Please!” She runs quickly to grab a random pair of ear plugs dropped from the others. She runs back to him, shoving them into his ears. Unfortunately, the melody is already pulling him in.
She runs to the edge as she blocks him from moving further, though he tries. She turns her body slightly to face the other sea creatures as all the other people climb over the trawler and hop into the water as they swim toward the predators.
“You already have enough, don’t take him goddamnit!” She shrieks. Her nails scrape against the paint as she holds on to the edge as he attempts to push her to the side.
The blonde watches the display as he observes her distressed state. He shakes the feeling of wanting to nurture her, guiding her into letting go of that useless human considering his restraints and her species. The scent gets the best of him as his tail tingles, moaning softly as his eyes roll into the back of his head, the fumes becoming overwhelming as a cold heat fills his body.
The four glare curiously as they ignore their incoming meal to watch the girl struggle. The one with black hair and blonde streaks tilts his head as he watches her actions. He disappears under the water as his yellow tail splashes the water. The other three ethereal beings use their nails and sharp teeth to shred the flesh of their victims.
“Darius, please wake up.” She cries, tears finally falling as he continues to struggle in her hold. The yellow tailed male peaks above the water closest to the trawler as he eyes Y/n.
She makes eye contact with his brown irises. He emerges from the water slightly.
“L-…let go. Too l-late.“ His soft voice struggles to speak English as the human language differs from the sea.
She gasps as she fully turns her body to face the male.
“No! I can-!” Darius shoves her to the side, almost knocking her over as he dives into the water.
“DARIUS!” She releases a blood curdling scream as she runs for him, only to be forced back by the merman jumping from the water and pushing her on her back as he falls on top of her. His tail fits in between her legs as his claws hold on to her wrists. She struggles under him as he uses his heavy body weight to hold her down. Goosebumps form on her body as the water drips onto her from all over, including his hair that drapes over both of them. The symbols embedded into his skin, black and prominent as she analyzes her situation.
“Get off of me! I need to save him!” She yells. He shakes his head as he inhales her scent, his grip tightening when the addictive fumes reach deep into his nostrils. Her eyes widen when his head drops to her shoulder, smearing the water against her neck. Rustling causes both to turn their heads toward the merman who they originally came to the trawler for. The man on top of her points to his restrained sibling.
She ignores him, peaking over his shoulder as the sound of screams and shredding could be heard, muffled through her ear plugs. She grits her teeth as all she could see was red covering the area, splashes here and there but no sign of any humanity. No sign of her brother.
She releases a strangled cry as the emotional pain takes its toll, realization creeping in as she finds it hard to accept her brother’s demise. Her head drops to the floor as her eyes shut tight, tears and snot mixing together as she weeps. The man on top stares in awe as the moisture falls from her eyes, gaining the knowledge of a human being able to express such heart wrenching emotions for another. He uses one hand to hold both wrists as he uses the other to trace the streak of tears. He eases his face lower as she sobs, slowly leaning in to lick the tears before a hiss sounds from the side, reminding him of why he’s here.
He pulls back, using his hand to gently smack her cheek to gain her attention, succeeding as she opens her lids.
“R-release?” He demands, though it comes out more softly as he knows she’s in a vulnerable state.
“Fine.” She whispers, voice hoarse as she sits up from her position. He shifts his body to allow her to stand up. The pink tailed man stares at her as she walks toward him. He observes her intently as she releases his restraints, including the cloth around his mouth causing her eyes to slightly widen as she notices the scars shaping his lips. She also notices the blood staining his wrists from when he cut himself. He sits up as they face each other. She yelps as she grabs his wrist by reflex when his hand wraps around her throat and pulls her in.
He inhales her scent deeply as he breathes heavily, revealing his sharp teeth as blood rushes to his face. She watches with concern, kneeling as he pulls her once more. His nose reaches the side of her neck as he takes in more air. It’s only in this instance that the feeling of danger comes back, as she is now alone on this boat with these man-eating creatures.
She removes his hand gently as he allows her to before standing back.
“I have to leave so everyone just needs to get off this boat so I can.” She sniffs, wiping her eyes as well as her nose. She hears a muffled shriek as she turns to the end of the boat where the other three mermen float. Her body tenses as she sees faint blood dripping from the corner of the black haired one’s mouth, his dark eyes boring into hers. Seemingly, at the same time the three men inhaled the air before the blonde and black haired man on the left opened his mouth, indicating his singing as she could hear a muffled hum through her ear plugs.
“No, you can’t eat me.” She growls, pointing to her ears as her eyes narrow. “Haven’t you had enough anyway?”
She eyes the faint colors of their tails, two of them being a matching purple while the middle blends in with the darkness of the ocean, a little darker indicating that it’s black. She turns on her heel as she begins to walk to the wheel, luckily having the knowledge of driving this kind of boat. After hearing the water swish, she hears footsteps behind her, she turns quickly, hoping it to be another human. Her breath hitches as her eyebrows raise when she sees the men climbing on the boat with their newfound scaly legs, a pale hue that matches with their individual tail colors, though shimmering as they walk. Her eyebrows furrow at the nakedness, quickly looking away as her face warms. To the side, she sees that the yellow and pink tailed men are now standing on their own pair of feet.
How could I forget that the most powerful of mermaids can shift their tails to walk on land? They’re also the same type to even use their voices as a weapon. They even have tattoos that symbolize their royalty! What did we get ourselves into?
She internally gulps as they all stand intimidatingly across from her. She looks around for any weapon near her, unfortunately one not in her eyesight whatsoever.
“Shit.” She whispers. All she could do is stand alert as she watches them, attempting to cover her evident fear as she eyes the murderous creatures standing in front of her.
She eyes them as she notices all inhaling intensely, furrowing her brows when she observes through her peripheral how their bare cocks erect the more they inhale. Besides the very light hue of their normal tail colors covering their erections, it looks human for the most part besides that and their size. Nothing too big but bigger than the average human.
She shrieks as the blonde and blue haired man and his black haired twin run full speed towards her, grabbing her arms before she had time to move. They hold her arms, long nails slightly piercing her skin as they grip her, all forcing themselves on the ground to kneel as they force her to sit on her bottom.
She breathes heavily as she watches the other three get closer. She struggles harder as she yanks her arms. One of the grips actually uses his claw to scratch her skin, splitting it slightly as he leans to her ear.
“Stop it!” The blonde and blue haired man hisses, giving her a painful squeeze as the blood drips down her arm. She yelps as she stops pulling.
“Big brother, what are we going to do with her?” The pink man asks, her eyebrows furrowing at the differing language that consists of croaks and low shrieks.
“Take those things out of her ears.” He answers. The black haired twin listens as he uses one hand to take out both ear plugs and throws them to the side, causing her to gasp.
“Get away from me!” She yells.
The short man walks forward before crouching in front of her, kneeling and crawling half way on to her body. His cold skin drips with water as it falls on her. He inhales her scent once more as his palm holds her cheek. She sits frozen in fear, not anticipating what comes out of his mouth.
“Mate.” He states in her language. Her eyes widen as she pulls back.
“N-no! Humans don’t have mates!” She exclaims.
“Mate.” She hears the others whisper.
“No, absolutely not!” She shakes her head, frowning at the creatures surrounding her.
“Sanzu, Kazutora, secure her legs.” They comply by grabbing her legs and pulling her to lie on her back as the other two secure her arms down.
“What are you doing?” She questions, anxious thoughts forming as the worst case scenarios appear. He climbs higher as his hair drapes over both of their faces. His dark eyes staring at her with intensity and determination.
“Mikey.” He says, wanting to hear his name from her lips. She pauses as she hears his words.
“Mikey, please get off of me! All of you, just go away! I want to go home!” She exclaims in frustration, wanting privacy and peace to mourn before having to contact their facility about the deaths.
“Home?” The older brother on the left asks, his purple eyes observing her as he points over to the ocean. “O-our, no…. y-your home.” He nods.
“No, no, no that is not my home! I am not your mate! I’m not anyone’s mate, I’m human!” She reasons, hoping to get that through their heads. She yells in pain when she feels a harsh scratch on her leg, blood oozing from the wound.
“Y-you are mate!” Sanzu hisses, his nail paused against the end of her wound with his other hand wrapped around her ankle. Kazutora grips her other leg tighter as a frown falls on his face to the rejection, his eyebrows furrowing. The twins glare at her as they also give her a warning squeeze, involving the tip of their nails. She breathes heavily as she tries to ignore the pain.
“N-no, I’m not! I can’t be because I’m -!” She’s cut off by cold lips smashing on hers, Mikey gripping her chin painfully as he roughly combines their lips. His other hand grabs her shoulder as his naked chest is pressed against her clothed breasts. His erection pressed in between her legs.
The two brothers above her bend their bodies to gain better access to her neck as they satisfy their taste buds. Nipping and sucking as they bruise her skin. Sanzu licks the blood of her wound, slowly savoring the taste. Kazutora purrs as he caresses her other leg, removing her shoe and sock, throwing them to the side. Sanzu does the same so he can smell more of her sweet flesh.
“Rin, let’s release the stimulant.” The oldest twin says. He nods his head as they both bare their sharp teeth, piercing her skin as they release the venom. She let out a scream as the pain was sudden and prominent.
“Oh, God!” She exclaims against Mikey’s lips as the feeling becomes unbearable, the throbbing in her neck reaching all over her body.
“Ah.” She breathes out as the feeling turns into an intense sensation, tingling and arousal surrounding her body as her nipples harden and clit gains a heartbeat. Wet slick forms, beginning the breeding process her body has been forced into. Her chest rises and lowers as she breathes deeply, her eyelids heavy as her body yearns to be bred.
“Fuck, n-no! L-let me go.” She whines, sobbing as her reproductive system takes over, her clit pounding as her hips slightly buck against Mikey’s erection. She shivers as they all smile in content, smelling her heat as her pheromones fill their nostrils, turning them on even more.
Rin rips her shirt open, revealing her bra as she yelps. Mikey grabs her hand from the other twin as he wraps his lips around her finger, slowly suckling as he sits himself on top of her torso, using his other hand to trace from her chest to her stomach, lightly scraping his nails against her skin. Both twins rip her bra apart, revealing her diamond hard nipples, her gasping at the cold air hitting her breasts.
She begins to struggle against their holds, only to regret it as Mikey pulls her finger out and chomps on her hand as a warning, drawing blood. She cries out, tears falling as her mind conflicted with the sensations all over her body. He returns to suckling her fingers and tracing her skin, licking the blood up as well. The twins move to grab her breasts as both use their tongues to lick her nubs, Rin roughly pulling and nibbling her as his brother gently sucks and kisses her other. She could only breathe heavily as they continued their assault.
Kazutora and Sanzu tore her pants, spreading her legs as far as they could while gripping her thighs with one hand. Both men position their heads between her legs before using a claw to slice her panties off, leaving her wet and bare for them to see. Her head falls back as her clit throbs, anticipating contact but only bucking her hips against the air.
Kazutora leans in as he gives a slow and light kiss on her clit, her twitching at the contact. She bites her lip to remain in control, not moaning out or begging for more. Sanzu retracts his nails to a normal size, using his finger to scrape her juices and wrap his lips around his own finger, quietly moaning as her taste reaches his tongue. Kazutora takes her whole clit in his mouth, sucking her clit as he bobs his head slowly.
“Oh my god.” She whispers, the sensations becoming overwhelming as she feels Sanzu gathering more slick and entering a finger into her vagina. Mikey takes the opportunity to lick all around her hand and wraps her fingers around his cock. She attempts to pull back but his hold is tighter.
“P-please? N-need it.” He says softly. Although she’s almost blinded by pleasure, she wants to end everything as fast as possible. She begins to move her hand up and down at a steady pace. He moans as he thrusts back into her hand.
“Feels good, Mikey?” He teases.
“Shut up, Ran.” He whispers as his head falls back, thrusting a little harder as his cock pulsates. He grabs her wrist to balance himself. Her head is pulled to the side as the blonde and blue haired man eases the head of his cock to her mouth. She shakes her head and attempts to turn away. He keeps his hold on her head as he grabs her nipple roughly.
“B-bite off.” He growls, threatening her as his cock throbs in her face. He releases her nipple when she nods and opens her mouth. He shoves his erection all the way to the back of her throat. He grunts as he pulls back and enters again. She whimpers around his cock as she feels two fingers hitting her g spot as a tongue flicks her clit. She grinds her hips subconsciously, seeking more as they continue to stimulate her.
Both Rin and Mikey moan as they thrust into her, eyes rolling in the back of their heads as their hair flops against their back. Ran reaches for his own cock as he plays with her nipples.
Suddenly, an idea popping into his head, he restrains his thrusts as he gives her hand to Ran. He positions his cock between her breasts and squeezes them together. Mikey thrusts her chest as he purrs. Ran takes the opportunity to wrap her fingers around his cock, essentially the same idea with Mikey a minute ago.
Kazutora and Sanzu stop their motions, their dicks tense and in need of assistance, dripping as they throb.
“Guys, readjust so I can get behind her.”
They ignore him until he lets out an ear piercing shriek, causing her to groan in pain for her ears. This gets everyone’s attention so he repeats himself. Everyone readjusts so that he she lies on top of him, her ass rubbing against his abdomen.
Mikey stays sitting on top of her in the same position and fits his cock back in between her breasts. Sanzu sits behind Mikey, positioning his cock to her entrance. Rin reconnects his erection with her mouth as well as Ran using her hand.
She cries out when Kazutora and Sanzu shove their cocks inside of her until they reach the end of her walls, deeply stuffing themselves inside of her slowly. Kazutora grips her hips as Sanzu grips her legs. Both men pull back as they slam back in, the slick coming from their cocks moisturizing her up enough to enter, besides her own slick.
She grunts loudly as they fill her up, her body being used every which way as her nipples are pinched occasionally. The men’s beautiful moans echo in the middle of the ocean, enticing her as she feels nothing but intense pleasure. The wet squelching sounds of their cocks connecting with her skin accelerate as they move faster.
Her own walls tighten around Kazutora and Sanzu’s cocks, pulling them in as they push, sinking deeper into her as Sanzu hits her cervix. The feeling of her body bouncing with movement was enough to send her over the edge as her body is very sensitive from the stimulant.
“Mm, s’ fucking good.” Kazutora whispers as he takes her ear into his mouth. His grip tightening, leaving indents in her skin. His thrusts are steady and hard as her asshole grips him.
Mikey breathes hard as slight moans draw from his lips occasionally, almost slamming his cock against her chin as he relentlessly thrusts his hips. Sanzu moans as he leaned over her lower body, thrusting hard as he bites his bottom lip.
“Good fucking girl. So fucking good for me.” Rin’s head falls back as he fucks her mouth. He holds her head in place with both hands as he rises closer and closer. Ran releases breathy moans as his jaw falls slightly open, gripping her wrist tightly as he gets close.
She moans loudly as she releases, the men following behind as Sanzu and Kazutora cum deep inside her, semen falling out of her holes as there was too much to fit all of it. Mikey’s cum reaches her chin and chest as Ran hits the side of her head. Rin cums in her throat, forcing her to stay in the same place.
After taking a moment to breathe, everyone removes themself as she lies there with tears in her eyes, worn out as she breathes heavily.
“We should change her now and then breed her when we’re home.” Ran states, leaning back against his arms as he sits on the ground.
“No, we should mate her and then change her.” Rin argues.
“No, sex now and then we mate her. I want to breed her.” Mikey pouts.
They continue their argument, Kazutora and Sanzu joining in as Y/n watches the brothers argue weakly.
“How about we mate her, breed and then change her.”
“It wouldn’t make sense to breed her up here.”
“Fine, let’s mate, change her and then finish breeding.”
She would’ve used this opportunity to escape if the stimulant hadn’t weakened her body. She can barely shift on her own comfortably. A hand rubs her forehead as it caresses her cheek. Tears fall as she mourns her brother, coworkers, and life before this moment. She couldn’t even fight as she lay in despair, awaiting her fate to live in the ocean and be tied to these creatures forever.
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alientee · 4 months
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brb imagining ozzie with a chubby girl
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He loves all your curves. Every.Single.One. He doesn’t tolerate body shaming. Not from anyone else and especially not yourself anytime you’re having doubts about your body, he’s tying you up until he has you crying and exhausted promising to never talk down on yourself again (enough said)
He listens to your cry’s and whimpers as fat tears run down your pretty face. You beg him to stop the punishment but until he’s satisfied he won’t let up.
“Let me hear you say it pretty girl. Don’t want your punishment to last longer do you” you stutter out the words you know he wants to hear, your at your limit. “I’m beautiful and perfect just the way I am” “that’s my good girl”
Now you know he’s smacking your ass every chance he gets. Don’t you bend over don’t let him catch you working out or seeing you reach for something. He’s going in for the kill. He’s the sin of lust he can’t help it. Literally gaslights you “well baby if you weren’t so sexy I could keep my hands off ya.” “So you got thick thighs and a fat ass and I’m not supposed to grab it? You see how crazy that sounds babe.”
You bend over getting the food out of the oven knowing Oz would be home soon from work. You suddenly feel a sting on your ass. “Ouch!” You turn around to glare at the culprit. “Dammit Ozzie! I was pulling something out the oven.” “I’m sorry baby couldn’t help it. You know whenever I see you bent over it’s all fair game. Wanna smack my ass back?”
Literally uses you as a body pillow. He doesn’t care if he’s bigger. When he’s coming home from a long day at work he pulls you close to him and falls right on top of you. Loves motor boating your tummy even if you find it embarrassing. Kisses every part of your body he can reach. Likes you to sleep fully naked so he can fall asleep on your breast.
Do not wear a sexy outfit around this man….. for your own safety don’t. You will not be able to move tomorrow.
Asmodeus comes home tired from all the paperwork and meetings he had to deal with. He walking into the bedroom seeing you in a latex body suit with stockings gloves and a collar. You blush trying to hide in the closet. “It was supposed to be a surprise!”
“Sweetie come out here”
“No! It’s embarrassing”
“Would you rather wear it at Ozzie’s tonight?”
You come out the closet a pout evident on your face. Asmodeus chuckles at your behavior. “guess I gotta fuck the attitude out of you huh” After it’s all said and done he’s cuddling you close leaving kisses all over your face. Making sure he wasn’t too rough with you. “Your gorgeous you know that” you giggle in return “you never let me forget it Ozzie” He pulls you closer to his chest rubbing your hips. “And I never will sugar, now you ready for round 2?”
He’s basically the same Ozzie we all know and love, he’s just more grabby than usual.
His nicknames for you are chubby bunny, bun-bun, sugar.
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solurae · 9 months
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four eyes (more to love underneath the frames) : prologue
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nerd!miguel o’hara is the talk of the town and i wanna put my own spin on it :D sooo expect a little bit of everything hehe :DDD - HAHA AS I WAS WRITING THIS I REALISED I GOT TOO INVESTED SETTING THE SCENE SO I MIGHT MAKE THIS A SERIES! i’ll just say this is a prologue hooray
IF YOU WOULD LIKE A SERIES PLS INTERACT!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK TOO TO SHARE YOUR MIGGY THOUGHTS AND I WILL HAPPILY INDULGE US BOTH :3
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a distinct pair of black, rectangular glasses were adjusted by miguel’s middle finger before it glided across the pages of notes he wrote from the lecture for his genetics class. a class that you both happen to share, but neither of you knew that yet.
miguel o’hara - a man so deep in his books that he might as well be the dean of the dean’s list - payed no heed to anyone or anything that could hinder his focus. the furrowing of brows indicated further analysis rather than the annoyance towards second year business majors. no, he wasn’t the annoying, stuck-up person who would ask more questions than give answers. he thinks they’re wasting their time anyway. he was always the last person to leave the lecture theatre. miguel would be huddled by the professor, covering the whiteboard with punnett squares or outlining control variables for the next lab.
he was only person in your genetics class that had a real chance of passing the course, the scowls of your peers and your friends could attest to that.
you wouldn’t say you were on the same boat as everyone though, your friends were always nagging you to help them but you couldn’t even figure out how you understood some of the content. this specific course was an integral part of your degree and the best chance of impressing the school, you had to give it your all.
you would be lying if genetic sequences and chromosomes weren’t the only things you had memorised. you loved the hue of brown locks that would shine from the tall windows of the theatre, the curls which your eyes would follow forever if he happened to sit in front of you. the pout of his lips as he’d scratch his hair in response to a lab practical that didn’t make sense, only for him to make sense of it hours later.
his eyes were red. it was his most defining feature, and a key factor to why - to your advantage, if you really think about it - people steer clear of o’hara. as much as it increases your chances of befriending him, let alone being with him, your classmates and other students weren’t so quiet about their dislike for the irish-mexican spectacle.
he’s so quiet. too quiet.
he looks like a freak! look at his eyes, bro. what is he some fucking vampire or something?
no wonder he’s on the dean’s list because he isn’t on anyone else’s for sure.
god he’s just so…
weird.
miguel was extremely fit, which was what confused a lot of people when they found out he wasn’t a copy-paste jock that still thinks they’re in highschool like most men of his stature were. his build put them to shame regardless. after being bombarded by women and men of every cohort - only for miguel to ignore them or coldly decline - word spread like wildfire and soon enough people were disappointed that the former heart-throb of first and second year turned out to be a major loser. some people would go out of their way to show how much they don’t like him, and these are people miguel’s never even spoken to. they would “crash” into him walking across campus, try and trip him over and even go as far as sitting on the other side of the room if it wasn’t so clear already.
but he didn’t mind. he was always at the library, the lab or the cafeteria closest to the lab anyway. it bothered you to see him alone and quiet unless he had a question or an answer, you genuinely wanted to be friends with him.
but as the story goes, it’s always these type of men that have a part of themselves they keep under wraps. you just know that there’s more to his brooding and stoic nature, the carnelian shades of his eyes lured you closer as opposed to keeping you away.
you decided to do honours for two reasons: a better resume and the fact that miguel unsurprisingly decided to do it too. you had a thesis in your head and you had all year to test it out.
miguel o’hara was more than just some nerd and you were gonna need more than glasses to prove it.
🩷 — PART ONE!
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adore-laur · 3 months
Text
WINDS OF CHANGE
— here’s an update on dad harry & the fam <3 please reblog/comment, or i will haunt you
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——
You've been dreading this day since March began.
Every time you passed the calendar on the refrigerator, you averted your eyes so you didn't see the specific date circled with the words "Lovebug's First Day" written inside it.
Time ticked by in an unyielding manner. Like an apex predator lying in wait, it crept up on you and pounced, leaving you disoriented, helpless, and wounded. You couldn't mentally process the breakneck speed of reality sprinting straight at you. When you merely blinked in a daze, another month unfurled, leaving no chance to recover.
The day arrives with a strong western wind and a brilliantly bright sunrise that mocks your low spirits. You're awake before anyone else, which is rare. Sleep evaded you last night, your eyes rejecting the heaviness that always comes with sleeping in Harry's warm embrace. The restlessness was paired with a fierce ache clutching your heart and holding on tight until the early morning.
At almost four years old, your eldest daughter is attending preschool today. After being a stay-at-home mom since she was born, you're finally setting her free to grow somewhere new. It was always in the cards, considering you would like to get back to working part-time to help provide for the family. You love bonding with and nurturing both your girls, but you're eager to put your brain to use in a different environment. It's time to return to other identities besides being a mother and a wife.
You begin brewing coffee, then open the kitchen curtains to allow the sun to pour in. For some odd reason, the atmosphere feels different. It feels like your first day of school all over again, where there's that nostalgic zest in the air fused with an underlying fear of the unknown. It's impossible to describe lucidly, but its presence is strongly felt nonetheless.
Today will forever change your family's routine, and it will make you want to rip your hair out and also burst with pride. There's a tug-of-war match taking place in your heart right now. Your nerves feel frayed; anxiety's merciless hands are harshly plucking at the threads. It's like fighting a biological battle with no shield—your brain is futile against all the attacks.
The sound of the wooden stairs creaking dissolves your whirlwind thoughts. Harry appears, wearing a snug black sweater and athletic shorts. He yawns, the sparkling sunlight accentuating his face gorgeously. The neatly trimmed scruff on his jaw he kept throughout winter. The tired shape of his eyes. The wispy way his hair curls after his morning shower. It's a blessing to be able to see the serene side of him that just woke up and isn't burdened by stress.
"Hi, sweetheart," he says, taking the mug of black coffee you prepared for him and sipping with an appreciative hum. "Both kids are still asleep."
You simply nod, afraid that if you speak, your poise will crumble instantaneously. Your hands distract themselves by lighting the wick of a sandalwood-scented candle. A part of you falsely hopes the comforting aroma will calm you down, but you know nothing will break through the full-body anxiety you're currently experiencing.
"No cuddles in bed this morning?" Harry asks curiously, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He smells like his sage and citrus body wash. "I missed you. Thought we'd have a little cry session before leaving."
Did he really have to mention the elephant in the room? You force your tears to save their arrival for later and say, "Sorry. I'm just trying to avoid crying as much as possible today."
His sigh is weighted with emotion as he sets his mug down and massages your shoulders. "I'm losing my composure already," he admits, laughing weakly.
At least he's in the same boat as you. Being a father has cracked him open in the best way possible—he's more softened than ever, and these parenting milestones always make him tenderhearted.
You rest your head against his chest and say, "This is harder than I thought it'd be." Every outcome you predicted involved an aching heart. Now, in the thick of it, you're defenseless.
"Remember our first night at home with her?" Harry asks, applying pressure with his thumbs to get rid of the muscle knots in your shoulder blades.
"Yeah. You woke me up because she had the hiccups."
He groans into your neck, almost like he's reliving the panicked moment. "I was so scared something was wrong."
You recall opening your eyes in the dead of night, the mellow lamplight illuminating Harry's troubled expression. Your baby, so small and precious in his arms, had harmless hiccups leaving her mouth. While you were half asleep, you reassured him by saying it was probably because she fed for too long. He agreed, yet still brought her to bed and gently rubbed her tummy until they were gone. You two were learning and tag-teaming through pure exhaustion. It was tough, but the rewards came in refreshing waves.
"Then she threw up on me," Harry adds, shaking his head fondly.
You turn around and slide your palms under his sweater, feeling the gloriously warm skin of his sculpted stomach. "Remember when she said her first word?"
He smiles reminiscently. "Mama."
"You started crying, if I'm not mistaken."
"Because she recognized you. It was special."
"Are you surprised she didn't say Dada first?"
"No, considering I talked about Mama all the time around her." His knuckle strokes under your chin. "Still do."
You hum thoughtfully, welcoming the pleasant memories that replay behind your closed eyelids. "Our girl is all grown up now. What are we going to do?"
Harry tilts your head to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear. "You and I will be okay. It'll take time, but we'll eventually sink into this new normal."
"You think so?"
"I know so. Our love is steadfast, and nothing will ever change that." He hugs you in an all-consuming way—it's intimate and infuses you with safety, warmth, and a hopeful spark that everything will patch together the way it's supposed to.
——
When the preschool comes into view, you get slammed with immediate sadness.
You toured it with Harry months ago, ensuring it was where you wanted your daughter to be during the weekdays. The curriculum focuses on outdoor learning and is nestled in a safe neighborhood only ten minutes from the beach house. The teachers, classrooms, and overall energy of the place made you less anxious, but now it's back with a vengeance, eating away at your calm facade.
Kids linger outside the building, the sun shining on the blacktop that's scribbled with chalk drawings. A few participate in supervised hopscotch, while others twist their bodies nervously. A gated playground area is off to the left, with colorful swings, slides, and seesaws. To the right is a woodsy area with a large sandbox and flower beds. The stone pathway is decorated with little handprints that must have been dipped in paint. It's darling.
In the rearview mirror, you watch your daughter kick her legs in excitement and hug her tiny ladybug backpack, all ready to go. She woke up happy as a clam and impatiently scarfed down the big breakfast Harry had made her. After that, Harry braided her hair while sitting on the front porch, the March winds and briny air bringing the spring season with them. Pictures were taken, hearts were broken a bit more, and then you all were off to part ways.
Harry to the restaurant; you to your part-time job. No babies to look after, just an empty house waiting to be filled with love again.
Your youngest daughter, who's ten months old now, sleeps peacefully in the car seat. She's getting bigger every day, and it's a double whammy to see both of your children become more cognizant. You want to curse time for being such a thief.
She'll be dropped off at the nearby daycare center next, which will further twist the knife. It's possible for separation anxiety to occur, and while you can handle it, your baby girl's reaction will be a mystery. You sincerely hope the transition from home to somewhere unfamiliar will be smooth sailing.
Harry parks the car and looks over at you unwaveringly. "It's now or never," he whispers.
You draw in a deep breath, then exhale slowly. "Let's go."
Stepping out of the car, you open the back door and let your daughter hop out. You'd walk her to the door, but you want to stay near your youngest.
As she bounces with anticipation, you open her backpack and double-check that she has everything—her lunch box, a change of clothes, sunscreen, and the comfort blanket she's had since she was born. You zip it back up and then unhurriedly help her arms into the straps, trying to stall what happens next.
Harry, never the one to procrastinate, kicks things into gear by crouching and cradling her head. "You have the best day, all right? Be kind, make friends, and have fun. I'll be picking you up later."
"Can we eat ice cream after?" she asks, clasping her hands and standing on her tiptoes. "And play on the beach?"
He kisses her forehead. "We can do whatever you want, lovebug."
You can envision it now. Harry will bring the girls home, exhausted from work. He'll make dinner and wait for you, then you'll all sit at the kitchen table and attentively listen to her talk about her day in great detail. Then, as the sun sets, he'll entertain her by the shore until he insists on bedtime. Come tomorrow, he'll do it again with the same steadfast devotion because that's what good fathers do.
"We love you so much," you say, petting her braided hair.
"Love you," she replies distractedly, eagerly glancing at the front door. "I gotta go now, Mommy. Bye, Daddy."
She turns, ready to break free, but Harry stops her and says, "Not so fast, little lady. Give us some love to get through the day."
She shyly hugs him. She's growing out of her clingy tendencies and becoming more independent, and you can tell by Harry's sad smile that he recognizes it too. She briefly hugs your leg before running to the front door, where teachers are waiting with enthusiastic expressions and name tag stickers.
Harry slowly stands, never taking his eyes off her. He's more adjusted to not seeing her as much during the week than you, but you know the sentiment of her starting school still weighs heavy on his heart. After watching her disappear, he slings his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the car.
Inside is where you fall apart. The first cry that escapes has Harry blowing out an unsteady breath and embracing you. Against your neck, he sniffles, letting his piled-up emotions finally fall to pieces. He's not much of a crier, but when he does, it's a raw sight to see.
"Reservation for a cry session? Table for two?" he says humorously, rubbing your back and lightly scratching it.
"We're so lame," you whisper, gripping his sweater like a vice.
"God, I know. I even packed tissues." Harry takes an on-the-go pack out of his pocket, plucks two tissues out, and wipes both his and your tears with them.
"Eventually, we're going to have to do this again," you say. From the passenger seat, you peek at your baby girl and shoo away the thought—you still have more than enough time with her before she starts school.
Harry kisses your cheek. "One day at a time, honey."
Undoubtedly, this routine will get easier. It will become second nature, and you'll discover the exquisite simplicity of watching your children grow before leaving the nest and soaring through the sky.
They came into this world like a soft spring breeze, carrying seeds and dispersing them into your life. The roots emerged from under your home and flourished into a bountiful garden. Each day, there are new blossoms to admire and appreciate. And each day, you aim to help them thrive with support from Harry's sunshine.
Try as they might, the winds of change won't cause harm. Your family's roots are firm in the ground.
——
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wenamedthedogkylo · 1 year
Text
I already said this in my other post but this really deserves to stand on its own and honestly I'm crying over it so it has to get written down somewhere, but when Bor'Dor took a pull from Ashton's pipe, the smoke turned into an image of him shooting a Fire Bolt at the janky, creepy, lovingly set up dummy that the Hells had made for him. The target that his own targets made out of admiration for him, out of affection, out of genuinely wanting to see him grow his potential.
Ashton's pipe showed that the greatest, most heroic moment of Bor'Dor's life was casting Fire Bolt at that target, and getting to celebrate it with the rest of the Hells. It was feeling accepted for the first time in his life. Feeling respected. Feeling like he belonged, like he and his magic belonged and weren't some horrible, dangerous thing that they would fear him for or would have a temple come and cart him away for.
These people—who he somehow either followed across an ocean or luckily ran into—who he specifically stayed with because he intended to kill them for sabotaging the Ruby Vanguard's plans. For killing "his friends" in Marquet.
These people were the ones he finally felt accepted by. Not the Ruby Vanguard.
He gave Ashton the first piece of mental relief and relaxation they'd felt in years, maybe ever. He gave them jerky, and made them fruit leather, and caught a little fish and had Prism Enlarge it to make sure they could eat. Was he telling himself it was just to ingratiate himself to them, to get closer so the knife would be easier to twist? When did ingratiating himself become "I wanted you to like me"? Did he have to keep convincing himself it was all part of the plan, that he didn't really like them, that he didn't want to keep them alive but he had to to get his revenge, that he could let them die at any moment and this wasn't just him getting attached because how could he get attached to people he meant to kill?
Did Bor'Dor realize, in the moment that he decided to try killing them in that cave, that the Vanguard had only ever seen him as a weapon? That his "friends" who'd died in Marquet (he'd watched Ashton throw some of their bodies out of the Hole just days ago) wouldn't have sought revenge for his death the same way, because he was nothing more than a tool for one man's schemes? Did he realize he had more in common with Orym who'd lost all his loved ones to Ludinus and Otohan and the Vanguard—with Laudna and her myriad of terrifying, beautiful magical gifts and her desire to do good with them—than he'd ever had in common with anyone in the Vanguard?
Is that part of why he just tried to run?
It didn't have to be this way!
Bor'Dor healed most of the group right after fighting the Taker. He knew that his Vitriolic Sphere probably wouldn't kill all of them, that they had health potions and could recover. He just needed to get away. Get away so that they couldn't come after him, and he didn't have to see how he'd hurt the only people who'd welcomed him into their hearts in years, and he could tell himself that maybe they did die and he'd fulfilled his mission, and could tell himself too that maybe they didn't die and he hadn't actually killed his only real friends in the world.
I saw you! In Marquet! You murdered my friends!
Was he really still angry at the Hells for killing Ruby Vanguard members? Or was he trying desperately to fight back against how much they cared about him? How much they had genuinely reached out and taken him in? How much it was going to hurt him to hurt them? Was he trying to cling to his original purpose, so that he could ignore how much it hurt to kill the first people who'd seen his magic and said "you're amazing" and meant it? Who'd said "can I try something", "what else can you do", "it's nice to know I'm not alone, because you're in the same boat as me"?
And when he gave up... when he didn't try to fight back... when he begged for the end because there was no point anymore...
The Vanguard wasn't enough to stay alive for. And he'd just betrayed the only people who'd ever completely accepted him. There was no point anymore. No point in fighting. No point in living. He was done. He'd had enough.
Bor'Dor Dog'Son deserves his peace. I'm glad he got it.
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coffeewithcocoa · 3 months
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Hi💕
Can I request male reader x Alastor were they are enemies by day and lovers by night? If you can thank you💕
:0 THIS ONE! THIS ONE RIGHT HERE IS BEAUTIFUL!
Playing Pretend
Alastor x Male Reader
Warnings: Fluff//Romantic Relationship//Female DNI
Sorry if it’s not perfect or too short😅
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You and Alastor hated each other. No, Correction. You guys pretended to hate each other. It’s not for the reason you think but it’s just because he wants to keep his, ‘big, bad, scary, overlord’ self. He’s actually a big fat softy when and behind closed doors.
He’s been like this since you’ve joined the hotel, as bad as that may seem when it’s clearly not. Like said before, behind closed doors this man’s a big fat softy. Giving you, hugs, kisses, cuddles and much more. The only time you guys fought was in the morning. Why?
It’s so that he wouldn’t show weakness to the blind sinners eyes. Alastor thinks they’re clueless and don’t deserve to see an overlords soft side. Plus he still has Vox to worry about. Showing a soft side around him would cause everyone In pentagram city to see him as a damn joke. So when you guys got into an established relationship he made you swear to only show him love at night, in private, when everyone’s asleep.
It worked for you perfectly though since you weren’t the one for touching anyone who doesn’t have a good bond with you. That’s kind of why Alastor fell for you in the first place. The moment he laid a finger on you when you were knew you almost blew his head off, almost.
You’ve changed, sure, but you still would do that if you didn’t crave or want touch in that moment. A subtle noise made you snap from your thoughts. The jazz noises that filled the room now being mixed in with your boyfriend’s return from working that night.
Charlie has been making him up and down with more and more ideas for the hotel, hoping that it would get more patrons. “Good evening, Cher.” He showed his true voice towards you. It was tired and craving a break.
“Evening.” You replied. Knowing he wants a break but he wouldn’t get one till he allows himself for one. You went back to what you were doing before he arrived in your room, reading. Silence came between you as the room was still filled with the jazz you’d left on. Your voice breaking the short silence, “Charlie I’m assuming?”
“As much as I care for the doll she’s just a little too talkative Cher.” Alastor answered with a small hum. His lovely grin, that covers his face everyday, faded as he moved further into the room. Your head turned, placing the book down to stand up. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” You asked going over to the radio that played the genre that your lover enjoyed when he was alive.
“Hm. Just your presence is fine.” The smile he had finally gained confidence again. Going back to its original bright self that everyone is familiar with. Alastor’s hand was focused on his dress coat. He may need it for when he was working or when it was morning but wearing such a thing around you felt weird. Yes he likes being neat and tiddy but he just wants a break.
Your foot steps being further away from him when he started and you being right in front of him when he finished made his gaze turn to you. A small smile placed into your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I hate waking up.” Alastor knew the answer to that and he on the same boat as you. “I know Cher. We do it because it’s to protect an innocent, handsome, sinner such as yourself.”
He has a way with words. And you hated it. Thats the only thing you really hated value him though. Everything else was something someone wanted really bad but he happened to fill up the categories perfectly! “I understand but why in front of all the others?” It was pretty obvious as to why the others didn’t know about the relationship going on between you too, but wouldn’t they be the first to know?
“Ha! They would be the last ones to know about such a thing Cher.” The speed that he can change moods scares you quite a bit. Even with it being as simple as him being tired to him enjoying the presence he brought to the room.
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Sorry that it’s quite short. I’ve been tired and busy and nothing exactly came into mind once I got to this point, hope you like it though!<333
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sopiao · 10 months
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can i request headcannons with the 141 and konig during a road trip? like a looong ass road-trip. nothing for a mission, just a little trip or vacation.
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ooh i just got back from a 10 hour long road trip too!
(Callsign will be ‘Shark’)
Price would be the one driving, Soap in the front, Shark, Ghost, and Gaz in the middle row, while König gets the back all to himself. Sometimes it would cycle who would be in the front with Price since they all wanted to take turns sleep.
Since König is the big bitch he is, he gets the whole back row to himself. He can ‘shooonk’ and ‘mi mi mi mi mi’ all he wants. With his pillow and pink jaguar blanket someone lent him cause he forgot his (most likely Soap’s). While Shark is stuck in the middle, stuck between Ghost and Gaz.
Price would have first dibs on the aux since he’s the driver. He’d only play songs that no one knows. Y’know the classics and his personal faves. No one gave him the aux since.
Soap would play songs that he likes, regardless of what anyone else thinks. ‘Shut up and drive’ by Rihanna, ‘Talk dirty’ by Jason Derulo, ‘Treasure’ by Bruno Mars. Will literally blast the volume at his favorite parts.
Occasionally Ghost or Gaz would yell at him to shut up, his only response being to turn the music up even louder.
“I’ve got to go to the loo..” Soap asked. Price gripping the wheel and taking an audible and long breath in and out through the nose.
“We just left THE FUCKING STOP”
During stops to restock on gas stations snacks or fill up on gas Gaz would get drinks he never finishes, it just piles up in the back. Shark got a bag of chocolate marshmallows, they later played basketball with it, Ghost’s mouth being the hoop.
Price would 100% do the dad-snack-hand from the drivers seat. While König got a whole tub of ice cream to eat in the back, just because he felt like it.
Soap actually got left at a gas station once. The car ride back to get him was quite.
Shark’s gasp made everyone turn to attention since it was so quite and their gasp sounded so alarmed. Shark leapt across Gaz’s laps and looked out the window.
“Cow!” They pointed out towards the field of cows minding their business.
“Cow?
“Woooaaah”
“COW”
König gets motion sickness very easily. Which is why he spends 60% of the car ride sleeping. But the times where he is awake, half the time he’s throwing up in a paper bag. Ghost having to throw it out while Gaz and Soap try not to gag. Shark is rubbing him on the back and giving him water to feel better :).
Gaz would sleep against the car door, a pillow between him and the door, one leg would be across Ghost and Shark’s lap and the other would be on the middle console of the front. Sometimes Soap would have to nudge his dinosaur socks out of the way.
Ghost would claim he’s not tired at all, but is always the first one to fall asleep. Arms crossed and head back while he snores like a motor boat. First time this happened Price freaked out that he was dying, choking or something, and had Shark punch him in the chest.
He didn’t feel like sleeping after that.
Eventually when he does he’d be in the same position as Gaz, but both of his legs would be across Sharks and Gaz’s lap. Hitting the opposite door.
“Would you rather fight 100 toddlers or—” Shark asked of the first thing that came to mind.
“A hundred toddlers” Soap interrupted them, no hesitation.
“I didn’t even finish the question—”
“Those kids are getting CURB STOMPED”
“No—”
Going down a long path in the middle of the night. Practically in the middle of nowhere as the only thing keeping them company was yards of grass and mice that hid in little holes for the night. Everyone was fast asleep until they felt the car shift to a stop. They all immediately looked at each other after seeing where they were stopped.
“Let’s stretch our legs, been a while” Price explained, being the first to get out, turning the car off and the key out of the ignition. They were all still confused why they stopped suddenly, but they understood that hours of driving does no good for the legs.
Price made sure to turn the head lights off too. The rest of them thought that they’d just but in the middle of nowhere in the dark but they were frozen in amazement when they saw how bright the sky is, despite it being 12 midnight.
Without all the city lights and street lights to pollute the sky the night looked so bright. Stars that were barely visible, only a dot in the sky, were now shining and bright. In the city you could only see 6-7 stars 10 if your lucky, but right now it was like you could see till the end of the galaxy.
Not a word was spoken the entire time they were out. It was beautiful but also so surreal and bone chilling seeing how much space there is beyond this world. Every star a sun and every sun had at least 5 planets. There had to be at least one other life form.
Those 20 minutes were the most quiet but calming 20 minutes of the trip. Something they shared and saw together.
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