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obaewankenobis · 5 months

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born to die ; finnick odair

pairing: finnick odair/reader (afab but i don't think i use pronouns? also no use of y/n)

word count: 6.8k

part 2: find here!

summary: having just finished your victory tour, you, the winner from district 4, are forced to confront the reality of winning the games. luckily, you know someone who's done this before — finnick odair.

warnings: mentions of violence, death, nightmares, blood, sex trafficking, i mean... it is the hunger games so read at your own risk! mutual pining, slowish burn, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it ), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, idk it's not that bad. minors dni!

a/n: sorry to everyone who followed me for my star wars content... anyways here is my first finnick fic cause my friend made me watch the hunger games a month ago so here i am. i was super interested in the cashmere/glimmer theory so i kinda used it here. i have a prequel and a part 2 planned so lmk if you want that <3

There were things nobody ever told you about winning the games, things you wished you would’ve known before you tried so hard. Before you’d clawed your way up a cliff of desperate survival and emerged on top. Before you’d killed people — other children — to be able to stand here now. Your father, a former Victor himself, hadn’t told you about this side of things before he died. With a pang, you realized how badly you wanted him beside you, and how impossible that was. How you were now confined in shoes so tall you thought you might wobble over, in a dress so thin you were beginning to shiver, and a hairstyle that pulled uncomfortably at your roots. It all tied in for a look that was clearly meant to have all eyes on you. It was your victory party, you tried to reason as you slipped into the dress and noticed just how much of you would be on display. They wanted all eyes to be on you. It was okay.

You just wanted to feel beautiful again, to not be plagued with the feeling of revulsion when you looked at yourself in the mirror. The outfit wasn’t the problem, it was perhaps the most stunning thing you’d ever worn: a loose dress with billowing sleeves that fell off your shoulders and opened around the stomach, the silky material melting from transparency to a solid, pale purple around the parts that clung to your breasts and hips. The opalescent color, meant to mimic the expensive pearls commonly found in District 4, shimmered in the moonlight, threatening to turn even the solid parts translucent and expose every part of you to the Capitol.

Not that they’d mind, you thought, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth that threatened to rise to the surface, breaking through a perfectly painted smile and tugging your blush lips into a frown. You couldn’t help but feel that was the point, with all the oogling that no one was trying to hide. And that feeling… that is what kept you from feeling anything but beautiful. You felt used, and exposed, but not beautiful.

A hand on your arm startled you out of your bitter thoughts, your skin immediately crawling with disgust as your gaze traveled to the face connected to the hand still placed possessively on you. While not particularly ugly, the man in front of you was pushing fifty, and the lewdness dripping from his gaze as he leered at you, an eighteen year old girl…

“There you are,” his lips curled into an unpleasant smile; he was close enough you could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath, almost overpowered by the sheer amount of cologne that clung to him. “I must say, my sponsorship has paid off… handsomely. I mean, look at you! Such a stunning addition to the Capitol, I just cannot wait for you to become—”

“Excuse me,” a new voice — a familiar voice — cut through. “I think your wife is looking for you, Quillon.”

Of course he knew this man, he seemed to know everyone. And of course the man — Quillon — listened, his eyes widening as he immediately removed his hand from you, leaving an unpleasant dampness from his sweaty palms. He backed away until he had disappeared into the crowd and it was just you and him.

Him. Finnick Odair, Capitol Darling, youngest Victor of the 65th Hunger Games, the most insufferable and obnoxious boy you’d ever had the displeasure of encountering. You were sure he’d never liked you from the beginning; you’d tried to introduce yourself to him at fourteen when you accompanied your father to the Capitol to train the new tributes, only to be brushed off without a second glance.

That dislike had only seemed to grow when you had been Reaped the year your father had been killed (the rumors of the siblings and children of Victors being chosen so often finally making sense to you), and Finnick Odair, master of the Games, expert of the field, had all but ignored you.

“You!” All of the rage you’d pent up about his mentoring skills — or lackthereof — were coming out in full force, though even you were surprised by the venom in your words. With a jab of a finger in his chest, you finally began to let it all out. He seemed to have sensed that you would come at him swinging, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to a quieter corner of the party, beneath a small pergola weighted with vines that crept up the sides and wove inbetween the planks on top.

“Look, I know you must be upset — ” No. You wouldn’t let him talk, not before you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. You took a step closer, until your nose was brushing against his, and tried to keep your voice as level as you could.

“Nice of you to finally fucking show up, Odair. Didn’t think you’d see me again, huh? Not after you all but fucking abandoned me during training week. I mean, I know we never really got along, but seriously? Is that why you left me with Mags and I never saw you past the first day? You hoped you’d train Kier—” the breath caught in your throat as you finally uttered the name of your fellow District tribute for the first time since… well, that wasn’t important. “—and then I would be out of your hair, is that it?”

Finnick, however, took this as an opportunity to spit his own words out, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he looked down at you. “I was trying to help you.” He was so close you could feel his breath fanning your lips, almost making you want to close your eyes.

“Help me?” A laugh escaped your lips, one that could’ve almost been seen as genuine because of the honest disbelief that coated it. “You think I’d be better off dead?”

He didn’t respond. Couldn’t even look you in the eyes, choosing instead to fixate on a tiny rose growing from within the depths of the ivy layers. That was basically a confirmation of what you’d just said, but for some reason he couldn’t even admit it to your face.

You weren’t sure why, but hot, angry tears were beginning to form in your eyes; you tried frantically to force them down. He couldn’t know how much he’d hurt you with his indifference. “You were supposed to be there for me, you were supposed to teach me how to survive, and you fucking left me to die!”

Had you done something? You replayed all of your interactions with him, coming up short with a conversation that would make him hate you so much he wanted you to die. Sure, you’d been a bit annoying when you’d trailed behind your father, and maybe you had been a little relentless to pursue his attention when he moved next door to you in Victor’s Village, but this? The way he couldn’t even answer you? The way he was just standing there, his gaze in some far off place? It made you angrier. How dare he be so indifferent, how dare he act as if he was doing you a favor?

There was a moment of hesitation before Finnick sighed. “It’s not like that. I was trying to protect you. Look— has Snow talked to you yet?”

This left you truly at a loss for words. “Snow?” You words were less harsh and more curious. “Why would Snow want to talk to me? You know what — don’t try to spin it on him, this is about us! About you—” You stabbed at his chest again, and this time he let you. “—about you abandoning me in that arena, when it was your job to fight for me! To keep me alive!”

“There’s a lot you don’t understand right now,” he began again, hesitantly reaching out to grasp the hand that had struck against his chest, and that was the final straw snapping; you were done.

With a scowl and a tug of your hand, you yanked it free of his grasp and whirled around, the flow of the dress whipping around from the sudden gust of wind. “Whatever, Odair. I’m done. If you can’t even admit what you did was wrong, then… then just leave me the fuck alone from now on.” You didn’t bother to look back, missing the way his jaw hung open and his entire face crumbled. If only you had any idea.

You found out soon enough.

“You’re quite popular now, if you didn’t know that already. Although you’re quite perceptive, I can’t imagine you don’t.” Though he sealed the compliment with a smile, it did little to soothe the unease stirring within your belly.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve noticed. Is that a bad thing?” You hated how weak you sounded, your voice faltering slightly at the end of your sentences, hanging uncomfortably in the air and weighed down with uncertainty.

“I knew you were a smart one,” he finally tucked the envelope in his hands into his pocket, his undivided attention now on you. “You see, with how desirable you are… there are certain expectations that come with that. We wouldn’t want the Capitol to be unsatisfied, now would we?”

When did attention turn into desire? When were there suddenly expectations, and why was it suddenly your responsibility to keep people satisfied?

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.” A hollow, empty statement, but a genuine one.

“Well,” it seemed Snow was particularly delighted by your response, as if it allowed him to explain something that pleased him greatly. “Victors have their place in Panem, just as all the Districts do. What would Panem be without Eleven’s grain, or Five’s power?”

Realizing it was not a rhetorical question, that he really wanted you to answer, you stumbled through a response. “Well, I— I suppose it would topple the whole structure. We… we can’t survive without eachother.”

“You’d be correct. The same thing applies to the Capitol. Without everyone doing what’s required of them, the Games fail to run smoothly. With no… incentives, shall we say, people… sponsors… become uninterested. There are things you, as a Victor and a mentor, need to do to ensure that interest remains. Do you understand me now, my dear?”

You did, oh how you did. And that was the worst part.

That was how you got here on the rooftop of the Victor’s apartment complex, wrapping a thin robe around the once pretty, now torn chemise that did little to hide your body. You barely survived the first night, there was no way you could spend the rest of your life doing this. No amount of hot showers and scrubbing your skin raw until it bled could free you from feeling so dirty. Tears glistened on your cheeks, highlighting your face in the pale dawn light and exposing your true emotions to anyone who could see you. Luckily — or perhaps unluckily — you were all alone in the Capitol, your family safe and sound because of what you’d agreed to, but so far away.

With slow movements, you hoisted yourself onto the ledge of the roof, telling yourself you wanted to get a better glimpse of the city skyline as the sun crept higher into the sky, not wanting to admit the real reason why, even to yourself. The wind whipped all around you, tearing the robe from your body and splaying your hair in different directions, but you felt as close as you could to freedom. If you just— took another step, or stumbled forward and fell, maybe you would truly be free in the entire sense of the word.

“There’s a forcefield. They wouldn’t let you get away that easily,” the all too familiar voice of Finnick Odair startled you out of your thoughts.

“Did you know?” You had to ask, but couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head and look back at his features, because you would surely crumble if you saw the look on his face.

To his credit, Finnick didn’t bother to sugarcoat it. “Yeah, of course I knew. That’s why…”

“That’s why you wouldn’t train me. You wanted me to die, so I wouldn’t end up like this—” you whirled around sharply to stare straight into his eyes for confirmation as you guessed what you were going to say next. “—like you. Because he makes you do this too, doesn’t he?”

Finnick was never an easy person to read, always hiding behind dimples that indented in his cheeks when he flashed one of his dizzying smirks. But now? You felt like you were staring at a statue, his gaze unable to leave yours but also unable to say anything in return.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, allowing the cold caress of the breeze to take hold of you. If only you could fall back, if only…

“I tried to protect you,” his voice cracked, finally pushing something past his lips and drawing you away from the dangerous thoughts fighting in your mind. “Don’t you see it now? It would’ve been better if you’d died in the arena, you wouldn’t have to do this,” he spat out the word like it was hot tea burning his tongue, but you noticed the crack of defeat in his voice. The way his shoulders slumped, the way his sea green eyes were fixed on his shoes. “And I… I wouldn’t have to see you like this.”

You did see it now; there was a fate worse than death. “I should’ve listened to you, Finnick.” His first name felt foreign on your tongue, as if you were speaking an intimate language only known to the both of you. “I— I’m sorry. I had no idea, I…”

He let your apology hang heavy in the air, flicking his eyes over your shoulder to the waking Captiol, evident by the honks of car horns and the chatter of thousands turning into a dull buzz.

You couldn’t stand silence, it reminded you too much of what followed your father’s execution, what followed when your name was called from the Reaping Bowl. So with a huff, you jumped down from the ledge and hoped he wouldn’t notice your disgruntled appearance.

Not that you cared what he thought of you. But one look from him and you were a goner; your lips began to quiver and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Finnick, I… I don’t know how to do this,” a choked sob escaped you, and then it was all over and you were crying, shaking violently as you tried and failed to regain your composure. That seemed to snap him out of the haze he’d been in, his eyes flickering over and fixating on your figure, deep frown lines etching themselves on his face in a worried expression. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he didn’t hesitate to surge forward as you began to sway, the lack of sleep from the night before becoming evident in the dark circles beneath your bleary eyes, cracks in your skin holding onto tears that had long since been shed. He placed a careful hand near the small of your back, hovering over your skin before you fell back into it, like he was uncertain if you would be okay with touch. It reminded you of two nights ago, where he’d been so close to you but still kept his distance, not wanting to invade your space. His reluctance to touch you without your explicit permission made sense now, it all did.

“I just— I don’t—” Your body convulsed with gutteral sobs that sliced his heart in two, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you into his chest, allowing fresh tears to stain in the wool of his white sweater. “I don’t…” you tried again, wanting to continue despite the hiccups, “I just don’t… don’t… know what to do.”

You could feel his lips moving against your hair from where they rested on top of your head as he answered. “You don’t have to do anything. Not right now, at least.”

Time passing was the last thing on your mind as you remained in his embrace, soaking up everything about him, relishing in the comfort his closeness brought to you. How when your mind began to wander, the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat brought you back so you could listen with your ear against his chest. How when your body expelled the last of its shudders and gasps from your breakdown, you could feel his arms flexing, squeezing you a little tighter. How when you pulled back from his embrace, he traced the red indent on your cheek, left from one of the buttons on his sweater.

“When was the last time you slept, sweetheart?” Finnick asked in a tone so gentle it brought fresh tears to your eyes; perhaps it was the sleep deprivation this time.

“I— I can’t go to sleep,” you began to panic again, digging your fingernails into his clothed arms. “I just close my eyes and I keep reliving it over and over again, I can’t do it again, I can’t—”

“I get it,” he stopped your rambling with a simple sentence, and you finally felt like you didn’t have to explain, he just understood. “Just… come with me, okay? You can trust me.”

Wordlessly you nodded, allowing him to guide you gently through the long corridors of the various penthouses until you arrived to one that had been occupied by none other than yourself. No, I can’t sleep, you wanted to shout at him, but remained silent. Trust him.

You allowed him to go through the motions of a bedtime routine, paying no attention to the fact that it was probably breakfast time. Pulling back one side of the blanket, he patted the uncovered space, motioning you to come lay down beside where he sat.

“Finnick, I can’t…” I can’t sleep.

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trust me, okay? Come and lay down, you don’t even have to sleep.”

Reluctantly, you threw the robe off of you and on to a chair, trying very hard to ignore the fact that the nightgown underneath did little to hide your body, reaching just past the tops of your thighs and exposing most of your legs. But Finnick didn’t even seem to notice, watching just your face as you settled into bed beside him, laying stiffly on your back until he motioned for you to roll over on your side, facing away from him.

“What are you—” you were shushed yet again and tried to comply, feeling a bit odd facing away from him when he was supposed to be distracting you.

You suppressed a shiver as his finger came into contact with your back, the thin silk of the nightgown doing little as a barrier and feeling more of a second skin. He began to trace a pattern— wait, were those letters?

“Finnick, what are you doing?” You forced back the beginnings of a smile, the first time you’d genuinely wanted to in what seemed like forever.

“Just relax, okay? Sometimes it’s okay to just… let yourself be distracted,” his voice trailed off, differing from the confidence you were used to, replaced by something much more vulnerable. “What am I drawing now?”

“I…” you frowned in concentration, trying to piece together the light strokes of his finger just barely gliding over you. “The sea, no! Waves?”

“Woah, that was fast. Didn’t know I was such an amazing artist, but it doesn’t surprise me—” The teasing tone had returned to his voice, no doubt an effort to continue to distract her

“Can you just continue drawing?” You rolled your eyes knowing he couldn’t see, but there was a slight humor to your voice that let him know it was working, that he was distracting you. His fingers continued their roaming, dancing so delicately and so dangerously close to your bare shoulder.

Finnick traced a moon, a star, and even a fish before he switched over to words, indenting each letter in your back with featherlight strokes of his fingers.

At first it was people, places. Your name. His name. District 4. District 1. Then it transitioned to phrases, which proved to be much more difficult. ‘You should sleep’—

“—Hey! I thought this was supposed to just be a distraction,” your words were finished with a heavy yawn that caused a chuckle to vibrate within his chest, and a feeling of warmth spread through you like wildfire. You couldn’t help it, in a moment you had flipped over onto your other side, wanting to see him. You could hear him, small chuckles passing from his lips and the slight rustle of the sheets beneath his body; you could smell him, a comforting, clean scent that instantly relaxed you, but nothing compared to actually being able to see him in all his glory.

You studied the high of his cheekbones, the straight edge of his nose, the golden glow of his skin that matched his bronzy hair dishevled from its place against your headboard. You studied the way his hair curled around his ears, the way you could faintly see the indents in his cheeks from where his dimples would appear if he were to smile, how the white of his two front teeth would poke out from his lips if he flashed you a smirk. They were full and pink, and, with a pang of jealousy that rocked your entire body, you wondered how many Capitol women had been blessed with feeling his lips on theirs — then swallowed that thought down with a shudder of disgust. He hadn’t wanted them, any of them, it was all a facade made up from by the Capitol, and you needed to realize that.

And while hearing him, and smelling him, and even seeing him was great, all you wanted to do was touch him. Not like that; no, you just wanted his arms around you again like they had been on the rooftop, shielding you from the cruelty of the world and finally allowing your body to feel safe enough to sleep. You wanted to reach out and trace the sharpness of his jawline, trail your fingers down to explore the planes of his chest, draw letters and shapes and meaningless patterns over his shirt like he’d just done to you. He watched you through sea green eyes that were glassy with sleep or emotion, which one you couldn’t say. His breaths came out short and shallow, hitting your face as you stared right back. You wondered if he could feel your breath fanning his face, or the warmth radiating from your body as you could from his.

He was close, so, so close, like that night you’d first seen him in the Captiol. You were wanting, just about begging for him to say something, something that would snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

It wasn’t fair that he could be so close, mere inches away on the bed, but be so unreachable.

But, as Snow had so graciously reminded you, fairness was a luxury you were not blessed with. So with great effort you tucked one arm under your pillow, using the other to pull the covers over you. Much to your relief, Finnick made no attempt to leave, saving you the embarassment of asking him to stay.

“Finnick?” You asked after several moments in a hushed whisper, not wanting to wake him. You felt guilty enough to have kept him up until mid morning.

“Mmmm?” Was the response, thick with sleep.

“Thanks for staying with me.” You fell asleep before you could hear his response.

Blood. Red and warm and sticky.

Heat. Blistering your skin and parching your throat.

A knife. Glinting in the sun, slicing straight through skin and muscle and bone.

A scream. Bloodcurdling and drawn out and all too familiar.

A scream escaped your lips, mimicking the one in your dream to an uncanny degree until you realized it was your scream. The sheets were tangled around your limbs, suffocating you and rendering you paralyzed as you fought with them, sweat drenching your forehead and leaving your hairline damp as you struggled for what felt like hours, though it was probably only a moment or two before your disorientation faded and you realized you weren’t back in the arena. Two hands were on your shoulders, strong and grounding, and you realized someone had been calling your name.

“You’re okay. You’re safe, it’s just— it’s just me,” Finnick’s voice was soothing to your ears, a calming melody against the screams and sounds of sliced flesh that were assaulting your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, chest heaving as you sucked in as much air as possible, needing desperately to occupy your mind with something else, anything else. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up—”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off; his hands moved up from your shoulders to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and you realized you’d been crying. “I get it, you don’t… you don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

His arms wrapped around your body until you had been tucked into his side, your head resting in the crook where his neck met his shoulder, and allowed steadying inhales and exhales to relax you as he resumed tracing patterns on your back. You cried, for everything you’d lost in those games, mourning the person you were before, and he just stayed there, cradling you against him, wanting nothing more than to take your pain on as his own.

“I— I— I just— I can’t—” you hiccuped, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as memories from your Games kept crashing down, how your District partner had protected you and you’d killed him—

“Please, what do you need?” Finnick squeezed his hands a bit tighter around you, trying desperately to bring you back to today. “Just tell me, and I can get it for you— liquor, morphling, anything, just—”

“Finnick,” you croaked out, hating how your voice sounded so weak, so broken. “Can you just…” your eyes flickered down to his lips, and despite every cell in your body screaming at you not to ask: “Kiss me.”

His eyes widened like it was the last thing he expected you to say, “I— okay— are you sure?”

You answered his question by surging forward and capturing his lips with your own, telling yourself it wasn’t his lips that you craved, but that you just needed something to get you through the night. He reciprocated immediately, matching your desperation with his own, like the two of you were trading blows as he pulled you fully under him, settling himself between your legs. You felt the hardness in his pants and couldn’t help but roll your hips up to meet it, pressing your own desire up against his. That — the feeling of his cock straining through the material of his sweatpants — made everything a little too real, and you suddenly found yourself needing to justify your actions. Why you felt this way was a mystery, perhaps you were protecting yourself, scared he wouldn’t feel the same if you were honest, but you truly had no idea, it just slipped out.

“I just… can’t think about it anymore,” you panted out. He didn’t have to know that you’d been pining after him since you were sixteen, didn’t need to know you hid your wanting behind sharp jabs and petty slights. “I don’t want you to think— this doesn’t have to mean anything, okay?”

Maybe you were imagining it, but Finnick’s eyes flickered with something you’d never seen before, clenching his jaw for a moment. “Okay.” He didn’t sound okay. “This means… whatever you want it to mean,” his voice was husky with a mix of something that sounded a little like… well you weren’t really sure, and you soon forgot to ask him as he stole your lips in another kiss.

You swore you would never get used to the feeling of Finnick’s lips on your own, even if you kissed him every day for a thousand lifetimes. Because each time his lips met yours, the world as you knew it was set ablaze with the same fuel that set your whole body on fire. You could never get enough of him, the way his lips were so soft and gentle, the way his breath mingled with and matched your own until it was like you were breathing as one. The way his tongue slid into your mouth but didn’t invade it while his hands roamed your body, squeezing the flesh around your hips, your sides, not being able to keep them contained to one place.

They finally settled on the sides of your thighs, squeezing around the area where your nightgown stopped, fading into a lacy trim and then disappearing completely. With tentative hands, he gripped the bottom of your nightgown and slowly began to hike it up your body. You helped him slide it up your legs, your stomach, your head, until it was completely discarded and you were left in nothing but underwear, having not worn a bra to sleep and leaving your chest completely exposed. Before you even had the chance to cover yourself, he was pressed up against you and his lips were on your neck, nipping at the sensitive spots under your ear and near the base of your throat, soothing the sting of his teeth with the swirl of his tongue.

This continued for a bit without any talking or shifting around, until you decided you weren’t content with being the only one practically naked, and reached for the hem of his shirt. He got the hint pretty quickly, leaning back and sitting on the backs of his thighs before tugging the shirt over his head. His biceps flexed in the process as he revealed a body sculpted and shaped into what you could only describe as perfect, not a single flaw to be seen.

Sitting above you, your legs spread around him and almost completely bare before him, this was the first time he was truly able to take in all of you, his green eyes nearly black with how wide his pupils had been blown out. His cheeks were so flushed they nearly matched the red of his lips, swollen from the constant attack of your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” Finnick whispered, so quietly you thought you imagined it. He didn’t leave much time for the compliment to settle in before he was back on you again.

His lips trailed down your neck, sucking and licking a path of hot, open mouthed kisses down past the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and not leaving an inch of skin untouched. You let out a little whine at the loss of contact when he suddenly pulled away, stopping his kisses just by your hip bone. You opened your eyes to see him searching them for any trace of unwillingness, finding none.

You nodded, desperate to have his mouth on you, and involuntarily shivered as a finger hooked around your panties and rolled them down your legs. You couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as he was met with how eager you were for him, evident by the growing wetness between your thighs, and instinctively pressed your legs together to shield yourself from his prying gaze, despite being completely bare before him.

“You don’t have to hide, it’s just me,” he said as gently as possible, gripping your thighs and slowly spreading them apart, “Are you really sure about all of this? I don’t want you to think that’s why I stayed.”

God he was so good, you realized with an ache that rocked your body, shooting straight to your heart as you stared at him, met with only sincerity that made you want to cry again, because you could never truly have all of him.

He was doing this as a favor, as a distraction, not because he had any real feelings. But you were so desperate for him you’d take what you could get, which was why you nodded fervently and said, “Please, Finnick, I’m sure, I need you, just… touch me.” And as soon as the last words slipped past your lips, his mouth was on you, and you knew in that moment you were utterly fucked.

Finnick, on the other hand, knew he there was no coming back the moment he came into contact with your clit and tasted you with his tongue. He wanted you, all of you, and chanelled that into the expert motions of his tongue as he dove it deeper in you, continuing at an agonizing pace until you were trembling, practically begging for release. Your fingers raked through his hair, tugging him closer to you, his groans vibrating against your folds whenever you pulled a little hard.

And then, he stopped altogether, and you let out a frustrated groan at the loss of contact, but he was quick to make his way up your body again, peppering kisses along the way before swallowing your whine with another kiss, your mouth opening to let his tongue inside and tasting yourself on him. He broke away for a moment, just in time for you to cry out his name.

“Finn—” you barely had time to whimper again before he suddenly sunk a finger in and kissed you at the same time. His mouth never left yours as he continued, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips as you parted them with a gasp. And he swallowed that with the kiss, too, like he was hungry for every part of you that he could get.

Desire ignited every part of his body, reflected in the way he began to pump his finger in and out before adding another, wanting you to be ready enough for his cock that he so desperately wanted to sink into you.

But Finnick had waited so long for this moment, he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. No, he needed to relish in every moan elicited from your lips, every clench of you around his fingers. He needed to memorize every dip and valley of your body, kiss every square inch, memorize the taste and feel of you, in case he never got the chance to again.

He broke away his lips from yours and reattached them to your neck as his thumb began to trace a pattern against your clit. His pace quickened as your moans grew louder and more frequent. Your walls squeezed his fingers tighter, until you were practically undone, as he reveled in the sting in his roots and on his back as as you pulled his hair even tighter and your fingernails dug little crescent moons into his otherwise perfect skin.

“I’m gonna—” You were cut off as he sent you over the edge with the slight curl of his finger, pure bliss blinding every other sense until all you could think of was Finnick. It took you a moment to come down from your high, realizing it did little to satiate you because you still wanted him, all of him.

You reached for his bare torso, feeling each of his abs flex individually as you trailed your hands down his stomach. You stopped just above the waistband of his pants, not only wanting to feel him, but wanting to hear him say he wanted it just as badly as you did; but it seemed he was thinking the same thing and beat you to it, shucking off his sweats and boxers until he was also bare before you.

“Tell me you want me,” his chest heaved with each word, demanding you say just what you wanted to hear from him, tearing your attention away from everything else. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Want you so bad,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you inside me. Right now, just… please.” If you could get drunk off of the word please leaving your mouth you’d be wasted by now, almost wanting to laugh with how often you’d said the word.

“Whatever you want,” the way he said that made your spine tingle, the purr in his voice causing you to border on ferality.

This caused you to laugh and hook your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with the intention of kissing the smirk right off his mouth until you felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, making this feel a little to real once again.

“You sure?” He halted your movements, both hands resting on either side of your head as he remained hovering above you, repeating his question from earlier.

The vigor in your nod caused him to throw his head back with laughter, though not before you asked for confirmation of his own.

Mimicking your move from earlier he answered with a kiss, this one so sweet and quick it was more of a peck. Before he had time to overthink, he was inside you in a swift motion, a moan tearing from your throat as he paused, waiting for you to adjust to the sheer size of him. Your fingernails dug into his arms as he held still, waiting for you to give him the go ahead before he started moving.

“Just— move, please—” that was all it took before his hips snapped against yours and he was inside you fully, biting back a groan to match yours as you clenched around him.

After a while of slow strokes, you were starting to grow inpatient with how gentle he was being. Not because you didn’t like it, but because then you had the chance to slow down and remember it was actually Finnick, and not some nameless man you wouldn’t remember in the morning. He seemed to pick up on your growing disinterest quickly enough, and began quickening his pace until you were crying out. His thrusts soon became wild and erratic, signaling he was just as close to finishing as you were.

“It’s okay,” he crooned, his lips brushing your ear as his hand reached down to circle your clit once again. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

You weren’t sure whether it was his command, or the pet name, way his lips felt against your ear, or even his thumb pressing against your clit, but you came hard and fast, your body spasming and clenching around his cock until he followed soon after. He collapsed on top of you, his chest shining with sweat as he continued to press kisses on you shoulder, up your neck, behind your ear. The weight of Finnick pinning you to the mattress was oddly comforting, grounding you and effectively keeping you from wandering back to thoughts of your Games. The distraction had worked, you realized as he eventually rolled off of you and up into a sitting position.

You wondered tiredly where he was going, but he had left and returned before you could even ask where. A damp towel in one hand, he cleaned you up with gentle movements, slowing when you gasped from sensitivity and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead while whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ear. The whole interaction was so domestic you actually felt nauseous as you remembered this was just a one time thing, and you’d never experience any of this again. This was just a favor done by someone who wasn’t even really your friend — a familiar stranger who knew more about you than most.

Finnick oh so desperately wanted to know what you were thinking. He would ask, but the look in your eyes kept his mouth shut as he fell on the mattress beside you. He itched to pull you close to him, to be able to fall asleep with the security of you in his arms, but couldn’t bring himself to make any first moves. Had he not slept here before you two had just fucked, he’d be questioning whether or not he should remain or go back to his room.

If only he knew you were craving his touch just as much as he was craving yours. So the two of you fell asleep shoulder to shoulder, with so many words left unspoken.

And when you woke up the next morning, you tried not to let your heart sink completely into your chest as you reached over and felt nothing. He was gone.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut #the hunger games #thg #finnick imagine #the hunger games smut #the hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair angst #finnick x reader #finnick odair fluff

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keerysfreckles · 2 months

Text

time after time — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve's longing glance to y/n makes him decide to stay at the hawkin's middle school snow ball.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, steve being a goofball, STEVE FLUFF!!!!!!

a/n: thanks cindy lauper for writing time after time and for my pookie wifey @keerysbrowneyes <3

masterlist !

꒰ა �� ໒꒱

steve harrington had a very interesting fall of 1984. he never thought he'd fight off inter-dimentional monsters again, and especially didn't see himself becoming friends with five middle schoolers.

so he wasn't too surprised while driving dustin henderson to his eight grade winter formal.

"you're gonna go in there," steve starts a pep-talk, "looking like a million bucks."

dustin nods in agreement, before flipping the passenger side visor down, examining his hair once more.

steve grunts while flipping the visor back up. he continues his pep-talk quickly, and makes sure to remind dustin to keep the lion purr out of tonight's vocabulary.

just as steve was about to pull out of the school's parking lot, a figure caught his eye. y/n l/n's figure to be exact. her light purple dress with slightly ruffle sleeves made steve's heart swoon. of course she was wearing her very worn out chuck taylor's to chaperone the dance. steve couldn't remember the last time he saw the girl wearing heels.

he watched for another moment as y/n handed two drinks to two younger girls. steve smiled when y/n did, and he knew he had to do something about it.

the whole time as he was parking his car and walking towards the gym entrance, he made a pro and con list of the decision.

pros; y/n might actually want to see him after he ignored her for a whole week, maybe he'll get to kiss her, and he just wanted to see how pretty she looked up close.

cons; she'd punch him in the face (again), she might not be ready to be face-to-face with the brunette, or she'll simply laugh once steve walks in the double doors.

what could go wrong? he thought, just as he opened the door and walked by mr. clarke.

an upbeat song was playing over the speakers while steve walked under the blue and white arched balloons. to his left, jonathan was taking pictures. in the middle were all the students, either milling around the sides, or dancing in more crowded area. and to his right, was y/n standing at the punch table.

steve felt his heart skip a beat before his feet drug him over to the poorly decorated refreshment table.

he looked over y/n's appearance once again before he was fully in front of her. her purple dress stopped just above her knees, and her hair was pulled back out of her face with a few pieces framing her soft features.

"steve!" y/n smiles once he walks up to the table, "where have you been? i haven't heard from you in a couple of days."

steve chuckles while hiding the truth, "yeah, it's just been pretty busy with senior year."

y/n nods in agreement before steve speaks again.

"how's the drink table going? anybody try and spike the punch yet?"

y/n lets out a laugh, "it's going, and i haven't seen anyone with a hidden flask yet."

a moment of comfortable silence passes before a slower song blares over the speakers and into the gym. most students grab a partner and start slowing swaying back and forth. a lightblub appeared above steve's brown hair.

"do you want to dance?"

the question immediately caught y/n off gaurd. the steve harrington, the boy who she has liked since third grade was asking if she wanted to dance with him.

"i- uh- what about the drink station?" y/n's face grows hot as she stammers out an answer.

"nancy's got it," steve gestures his head behind y/n, making her turn to see nancy walking up behind her.

"go have fun," nancy talks softly after patting y/n away from the table and towards steve.

she lets out another laugh as steve simply holds out his hand. she gladly takes it, and her heart skips at the feeling of his skin on hers. his warm hand encasing her cold one.

steve leads y/n out to the crowd of seventh and eighth graders. she can't help but laugh at how out of place she seems in the middle school gymnasium, but she couldn't care. because she was with steve harrington.

"cmon don't go all stiff on me l/n," steve teases after putting his hands on her waist. the girl's face only grows a darker shade of red while placing her hands on his firm, broad shoulders.

at the same time, the pair subtly look over each other. steve looks over y/n's simple makeup, just blush and mascara. he didn't know how she looked even more beautiful than before. y/n chuckled slightly at his attire, consisting of a red longsleeve, jeans, and of course his red nike's.

"i'm sorry i haven't reached out this past week," steve admits.

y/n shakes her head, while the two were now slowing swaying in circles as the song continued.

"it's okay steve, really. i get it, senior year has been stressful for everyone."

steve wishes he could tell y/n the truth. but he doubts she'd believe him if he said he fought of monsters the past two years, got his ass beat by billy hargrove, and became close to dustin henderson.

steve and y/n both got lost in each other's eyes. she could look into his chocolate brown eyes for hours on end and not get bored. her eyes drifted to his other features. the small creases around his eyebrows while he seemed focused on something, she wanted to run her fingers over the skin to smooth it out. the freckles on his cheeks and moving down his neck, she needed to kiss every single one. the slight smirk he always had adorning his lips, she wished she could just kiss the smirk off his face.

y/n got lost in her daydreaming, she could've sworn steve was leaning closer to her than before.

she didn't want to believe it, but she was leaning in closer as well.

"steve," y/n's voice is quiet, she fears no sound even came out of her mouth.

steve's lips were now centimeters away from y/n's. their foreheads were almost touching, and the thought of steve kissing her only made her dizzy.

however, she knew steve would catch her, feeling as his grip hardened on her waist. he leaned even closer, touching his lips to hers.

his lips were softer than y/n ever imagined. her hands move to the back of his neck, running her fingertips over the soft curls while her thumbs were on his cheeks. steve's hands held y/n so tightly, even if she did fall, she wouldn't have noticed. he held her close, deepening the kiss slightly before pulling away.

both of their lips were a darker shade now, and both teens were slightly out of breath.

to try and seem cool about the whole ordeal, y/n leans forward to place her head on steve's chest. she could hear his heartbeat, as it seemed to pick up slightly at her action.

steve smiled to himself. he actually kissed her. y/n l/n, the girl he's adored since the fifth grade formal actually kissed him back.

steve kissed the top of y/n's head, and internally thanked his younger self for the growth spurt, now making him at least seven inches taller than the girl in his arms.

the song was coming to a close, but steve didn't want this moment to end.

"do you want to get milkshakes?"

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #steve harrington st #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things imagines #stranger things headcanons #stranger things netflix

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

Text

Dirty Girl

Negan x Reader

18+ ONLY / Requests are: OPEN

Summary: Negan fucks you up against a fence.

CW: daddy kink, gags, public sex, p in v, no pronouns but the reader has femme anatomy, use of 'good girl'

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You knew it was wrong. You knew it was, but you also were not the kind of person to get hung up on something if it wasn’t actively hurting someone. And the thrill of having Negan- public enemy number one balls deep in your cunt was too good to pass up. And he knew it too.

“Yeah, you like that, baby, huh?” The man in question grunted into your ear, each word punctuated with hard thrusts up into the spot that makes you see stars. “If you can’t be quiet I’ll have to gag you, doll,” he growls, making you clench and another barely contained whimper escape you.

Negan had you pressed up against the cool corrugated fencing, your hands splayed out in front of you as he bent you over and pressed himself inside you over and over again. Your cheek pressed into the dust on the fence, absolutely smudging across your skin. Knowing how dirty this was, and how your face was now smudged with evidence of your acts sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“Oh, you’re such a dirty girl, huh?” Negan grunted, wrapping his hand around a fistfull of your hair and yanking you back closer to his face. With your mouth agape from pleasure, it took no effort for Negan to reach around and shove his red bandana into your mouth, laughing as you garbled a response through the fabric. “Oh, such a dirty girl for daddy, baby,” he laughed, releasing your hair with one last tug.

Your head dropped forward, the muscles in your neck giving out with the pleasure. Negan wrapped his hands around your hips and gripped tight. You were sure they were going to leave bruises by the afternoon, never mind the morning. But you’d love them anyway, deep purple reminders of a good, hard fuck.

Your fingernails scraped against the metal of the fence, your jaw starting to ache around the bandana. And all the while, Negan continued to growl filth from behind you. How you were the one being the problem was beyond you when he was the one who couldn’t shut up. Not that you wanted him to, of course.

“Not such a Chatty Cathy now, are we?” He asked, squeezing hard on your left him and pounding his cock into you. “No, see? Now you’re being a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy, baby girl.”

You whimpered around the gag and he chuckled hoarsely.

“Oh, what’s the matter? I just can’t seem to hear you, doll. What do you need, huh?” One of his hands trails down around your hip to lightly press against your clit. “What, you need daddy to rub your pretty little clit, baby?”

Your eyes squeezed shut at a particularly rough slide of his hips and he gave your cunt a slap, causing your hips to jerk.

“Uh-uh, I do believe you’re ignoring me, darling. And that- is not on.”

You look over your shoulder to glare at the man. He knows full well you can’t answer him even if you wanted to. He just liked to torture you, the bastard. You press your ass back against him just to revel in the groan it pulls from him.

“Oh-hoh,” he grins. “Fuck, you are dirty, aren’t you? Taking daddy’s dick from behind like that? Knowing that someone could just come around that corner and see you taking it like such a whore.” He lets go of your hip and lands a hard slap to your ass, causing your head to jerk and you to cry out against the gag. “Fuck, I felt that, baby- do you want someone to catch us? You do, don’t you. Mm, daddy’s learning all sorts of things about you tonight, doll.”

Your arms begin to shake as he gives in and starts rubbing your clit hard and fast. You’re not going to last long, and you both know it. He rubs over the spot on your ass he slapped in a small mercy. You whine, and your hips buck forward towards his hand on your clit and away from the sting..

“My, oh my, you’re desperate for it, aren’t you,” he says, gripping the globe of a cheek and sliding two fingers up and down either side of your clit. “So close for me.” A statement of fact, and not a question.

Your head drops forward in a nod, unable to form speech. Not that you could verbalise it anyway. He laughs and plows his hips so hard into you that his balls slap up against his hand.

“Cum for me,” he orders. “Right now. Cum for daddy, baby.”

One, two, three more thrusts of his cock into your g-spot is all it takes before you’re cumming around him, walls spasming and knees buckling with the effort of holding yourself up. He laughs, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You whimper, and your hands slide down the fence.

He fucks you through it, thrusts turning sloppy now that you’ve reached your orgasm. You know he’s close, and you clench your cunt around him rhythmically to get him there.

He surges forward and presses you flat up against the fence, arms around your torso to hold you in place. He fucks you hard and fast, hot breath against the back of your ear and groaning into your neck.

And then he finally cums, biting down into the meat of your shoulder and fingers pinching at your nipples. His hips stutter up into you and you feel his release spurting inside you, filling you up.

You let out a satisfied groan, wiggling your hips against him to milk him for all he’s worth. He chuckles lowley in your ear and presses a soft kiss to the bite he’s left on your shoulder.

Once he’s spent, Negan pulls out of you, admiring the way his seed drips out of you with a growled “fuck, baby.”

You grunt around the gag and he laughs, spinning you around to face him. He presses up against you, running a hand over your clothed tit to give it a squeeze.

“Oh, I'm sorry, darling. How rude of me,” he grins and places a thumb on your lower lip. “Here I am, putting myself back together and you’re standing here a whole mess. Open wide for daddy.”

You stretch your jaw open just a little wider and he pulls the gag out, grinning when you smack your lips and grimace at the cottony taste.

“Oh, there you go. Okay, baby, lets get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get us some of that damn good lemonade. What do you say?”

Your lips spread out into a smile, and you agree with him. Negan steps aside and allows you to start back towards the building you called home. He gives one more appreciative grunt at the sight of your ass in that dress, and wraps his arm around your waist, the two of you walking back home.

And if the guards noticed you had a little bit of a limp, then that was no one else's business but yours.

#one shot #the walking dead #negan #negan msut #negan smith #negan x reader #negan smith x reader #negans thirst squad #the walking dead fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #lemon

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x-doing-ur-mum-x · 4 months

Text

John Price x Virgin!Reader

Hey babes I do take requests 24/7 so send anytime 😚

Warnings: smut with some plot? She/they pronouns/fem!reader, no protection (Use protection nasties.) P in V sex mentions breeding, virginity taken, couch sex, slight overstimulation, no use of Y/N, Reader is 20-25.

NO MINORS PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!!

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You're sitting on prices lap in a passionate kiss on the couch of your shared home, both of you have been dating for a while first meeting each other when he picked you to be on task force 141, working by his side slowly gaining feelings for him you wouldn't ever say it or even pay attention to it, that was til he had asked you out on a date. You never told him that you were a virgin, you found it a bit embarrassing that you're in your early 20's and haven't lost your virginity yet, you didn't know how he would respond. He's always respected you and made sure you were ok with everything he did making sure he didn't take lingering touches too far or passionate kisses more than that, he didn't mind that you weren't ready as long as you are comfortable is all that mattered the most to him.

You pull away from the kiss trailing your hands on his chest a bit nervous you wanted to tell him but didn't exactly know how. Price caught up on your nervousness holding your hand with one of his as his other hand remains on your waist rubbing soft circles while stealing a soft kiss from your hand.

"What's on your mind dove?" Price asks, as he continues rubbing soft circles on your waist trailing down to your hips

"If you want me to stop I will, hun" Price says reassuringly as he steals a kiss from your forehead.

"No, I want you to continue. I've just never done this before…" you softly mumble the last part feeling even more embarrassed. He smiles softly kissing your red cheek.

"We can always take it slow, love. As long as you're ok with it." He says, slowly putting both hands on your hips.

"I'm ok with it" you reply, trailing your hands on his chest again.

"Atta girl" he says as he presses his lips against yours slowly trailing his hands on to your ass, as he presses kisses to your neck and collarbone leaving variations of deep purple and red marks on your skin.

His hands leave your ass and reach up to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside to be forgotten about. Price leaves soft kisses to the top of your breasts before ripping your bra off to leave more pretty red and purple marks on your body. Softly massaging your breasts he puts one of your left nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking it loving how red your face is, staring into your eyes admiring the bite marks in his provisual vision. He stops sucking your left nipple and caresses it with his big hands rolling your nipple between his pointer fight and his thumb making you bite back some moans and whimpers.

"No one's around, dove, I wanna hear you make those pretty noises, my love…" Price whispers into your neck kissing it and softly biting it making sure he doesn't hurt you, making you whimper a bit when he leaves another red mark on your skin. Hearing you whimper made it more tempting to just fuck you right then, of course he wanted to take it slow for you making sure you remember how much pleasure you got from him. He knew he had to fight back the urge to fuck your pretty little brains out and breeding you till all you can think is how good his cock makes you feel. His self control was strong, the only weakness he had was you, you always have been. Small stolen kisses turned into heated make out sessions, you always could make him fold so easily even just your presence in the room or you taking care of him after missions or just long days of paperwork. Pulling you back into a passionate kiss as he slowly lays you on the couch making sure your lips stay connected to his. You both break away for air as Price puts on a show taking his shirt showing off his abs, the scars on his abdomen and the hair on his chest while rubbing circles on your waist with his thumb “Do I have consent lovie?” He whispers into your ear.

You simply nod, as your heart starts racing faster "I need words hun." He simply states.

"Yes.. you have my consent john.." you say just above a whisper. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down, tossing it to the other side of the room to be forgotten about along with your shirt and bra. He starts kissing and biting your inner thighs making sure it matches with your chest he looks up at you once more

"What's the safe word, dove?" Price asks

"Asteroid" you simply reply softly

Price kisses your clit before he starts to give it a few kitten licks earning a few whimper and whines from you as you start closing your thighs a bit. Price wraps his hands around your thighs so he can continue his meal although he wouldn’t mind having your thighs squeezing his head, he’d love for you to do it he'd even encourage it, he’d die a happy man being suffocated by your thighs but right now he just wants to see your face how good he can make you feel by just his mouth. He soon enough attaches his lips to your swollen clit sucking harshly to bring you closer to your first orgasm of the night. Price softly rubs small circles on your thighs as you come down from your high

"Good girl" Price mutters the praise soothingly as he scratches your thigh with his beard before pulling away from your heat, leaning up to kiss you again as you take rushed breaths to come back from your high.

"You alright, Lovie?" Price asks gently before kissing your bruised neck again massaging your waist with his big hands

"Yeah…" you quietly respond trying to slow your breathing down

"You're such a good girl, aren't you sweetheart?" Price softly whispers into your ear

"Only for you" you breath out

Price chuckles as he pulls you into another deep kiss slipping his tongue into your mouth claiming his dominance once again. After a few moments price pulls away

"Are you absolutely sure, hun?" Price asks once again while lining up to your heat

“Positive.” You confirm once again reassuring your boyfriend that you wanted this, Price kisses your cheek before slowly entering his tip into your warmth making you moan softly.

“Good girl..” Price praises again moving his hand to hold yours as he slowly pushes himself more into you, by the time he was halfway inside of you you squeezed his hand starting to get a bit overwhelmed from the stretch of your walls. Price immediately notices and stops moving so you can adjust to his size “Good girl, so good for me, honey…” Price coos into your ear kissing the side of your face he continues holding your hand reassuring that you're doing good for him “Can I move again hun?” Price asks again.

“Y-Yeah please move baby…” you whine out almost begging for him to move again Price starts moving the rest of himself inside of you, once he's fully in your heat he stays still once again making you can adjust to his length “Tell me when to start moving doll face” after a few minutes of peppering your face and neck with kisses you move your hips trying to get some form of friction between you two "John please move…" You whine out needy, John chuckles kissing your neck once again moving out slowly and back inside your warmth again keeping the slow pace for a few thrusts before going faster "Just tell me when to go faster Lovie'' Price says kissing your jaw keeping the same pace so you get used to how big his size is, after a few seconds he grunts into your neck feeling you clench around him making him buckle hips slightly, you clench around him again hearing a low groan in your ear from the man above “Please move faster, John…” You whine into his ear bucking your hips into his. Price chuckles moving his hips into yours faster making sure he goes deeper into you “This good, baby?” Price asks moving one of his hands to caress your face “Y-Yeah amazing, John” you whimper as he hits that one area of bundle of nerves inside you, Price notices immediately moving his lower half to aim at your sweet spot trying to make you come to your second orgasm for the night. You wrap your legs around his waist starting to get lost in the pleasure "Fucking shit, you feel so good, my love" he groans into your neck quickening his pace a bit, feeling the familiar warmth in his lower abdomen bucking his hips into yours throwing himself a bit off pattern. Price moves the hand caressing your face down your neck then your breasts, slowly stopping at your abdomen feeling himself rutting into you making him groan before moving his hand down to your clit rubbing and pinching it lightly to get you to your second orgasm of the night "C'mon, baby cum for me. Cum all over my cock, wanna feel you, baby" He mutters in your ear as he softly bites your earlobe quickening his pace and making sure this is the best orgasm you've ever had. "Oh fuck- John!" you whine arching your back whimpering his name as if his name was a prayer as you squeezed his cock releasing your second and final orgasm of the night "Squeezing me so fucking tight, honey" he pants against your ear "Where do you want me to cum, doll?" He asks on the verge of his release.

"Inside me please, I need to feel you." You whine starting to feel overstimulated bucking your hips once again. As soon as those words left your lips he buried himself in you as deep as he could letting the coil in his stomach snap, cumming inside of you trying to keep his cum safe inside of you as groans your name under his breath.

Price stays like that for a minute before pulling out slowly not wanting any to spill out "Good girl, took me so fucking well, didn’t you, love?" He says as he caresses your face, kissing your cheeks "Let's get you cleaned up." He says before picking you up bridal style carrying you to the shared bathroom placing you on the toilet seat kissing your lips softly "So proud of you, my precious girl" He says before leaving a quick peck on your lips turning back to the bathtub starting to run the water. "I'll be back in a minute, ok?" He says before leaving the bathroom door.

You hum exhausted as you lean against the back of the toilet seat waiting for him to return. Price leaves the bathroom changing the sheets and putting your favourite pyjama set on the bed before going down stairs getting you a snack and water.

"Love, I'm back." He says, giving you the glass of water and snack "Don't want my pretty girl passing out on me" he chuckles, kissing your forehead before going to the bathtub making sure the water is warm enough, turning off the taps. Price picks you up bridal style once again placing you in the bathtub sitting next to you on the floor "John, get in with me please" you say caressing the side of your boyfriend's face.

"How could I ever say no to such a perfect girl like you, love?" He chuckles getting in behind you kissing the back of your neck pulling your body closer to his "So proud of you, baby. I love you so much" Price murmurs in your neck scratching you with his beard probably leaving you beard burn for the morning to deal with.

"I love you too, John," you say smiling, moving your hands up and down his arms that are wrapped around you massaging them softly.

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z3nitsusgf · 2 years

Text

cw: fingering, afab reader, she/her pronouns (used once), womb tattoo, teasing

a/n: the lack of good black butler fics makes me sad, why can’t I have freaky hot sex with Sebastian or Claude or the Undertaker??

Making a pact with Sebastian, only later realizing that the place to chooses to display his mark is above your womb. A pretty glowing purple at makes you tremble and burn, it’s like you’re a cat in heat. Sweating and clawing at the pillows, mewling out when he doesn’t help you.

“Sebastian please,” you sob, hips twisting in the sheets as the feel the inside of your walls pulse and drip. It’s like a red-hot throbbing that makes your eyes go white and you absolutely wail when he presses his palm down on it. The skin on skin is so good, so hot, so- natural.

“My, look at you. So debauched.” He actually laughs at how you nearly cum from it. His palm smoothing over the burning hot mark over your navel, he traces it with painted nails. Watching how you quiver under him, chest heaving as you look at him with wide expecting eyes.

“You’re acting very depraved, darling.” He mocks, flashing you a pretty smile to make you flounder. And it works.

Sebastian knows it’s improper to play with his food but he can’t help it, there’s a certain air to you - he needs to see how far he can push before you tip over the edge for him. His hunger is inevitable, inescapable, rapturous.

He leers over you, looking over your trembling body. Your cunt drips and flutters around nothing, knees knocking inwards to try and relieve the pressure on your clit. His other hand grips your ankle, keeping you from squirming away. Though it’s not like you’d be able to escape him anyway.

“Please Seb-“ the words are plucked from your throat as the demon presses down on your navel again. You sob, legs kicking the bedsheets, twisting out only to be stopped by his grip on your ankle. He hasn’t even fucked you yet and it feels like too much. The mark making your insides feel lit aflame, the nerves so sensitive you think you’re going crazy.

“Ah, there we go,” he chuckles at your reaction, patting your hip as you pant and leak streams of slick onto the sheets. Oh, his eyes sparkle in profound amusement. The way you so vividly react to his hands makes him all the more ravenous.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Sebastian doesn’t slow down for a second, pushing your thighs apart. Marveling how sticky and glossy your pussy is, clit shiny and pulsing in the air. It makes him flash his fangs. He’s going to have to much fun ruining you.

He pins your legs with ease it makes you remember how strong he actually is. He could snap you apart with the flick of his wrist. You shiver under his hold.

Sebastian drags a finger up the wet slick, keeping a firm hand at your hip to keep you from bucking away. You moan, the nerves twitchy. He watches you through dark strands, circling your puffy clit with the pads of his fingers.

You choke on your saliva, hands gripping the lacy pillows above you to ground yourself. The burning above your abdomen doesn’t cease, growing and flaring with each of his small movements.

“Need more, ah,” You grind your hips onto the tips of his digits, trying to get him to push them into your cunt. He simply watches as you struggle, too amused with your torture. He waits for you to whimper, for you to grow desperate and slick under the tips of his digits.

“Of course you do,” he says, his hair falling over his ivory skin, sharp fangs poking from his lips.

“Always have been such a greedy little thing, haven’t you?” He coos, pushing three of his fingers knuckle deep into your sloppy cunt, hooking them up towards that gooey ribbed spot. You’re mortified by his gaze, pinned down by some unforeseen force.

He prods that it with precision, fingers rubbing back and forth over your velvet walls till you clamp your thighs around his wrist. Greedy walls clamp over lithe fingers, sucking them in. Drool slips from your lips, thick moans leaching from your mouth.

“You’re so sensitive.” He mutters, his thumb brushing over your puffy clit. Your thighs jump, stomach dropping in want as you feel the mark flare in need and you sob. Tears leak over the sides over your flushed face and Sebastian has half a mind not to lean over and lick them off your cheeks.

He works harder, curling his fingers up to punch the pads into your g-spot while his thumb rubs tight circles on your swollen nub.

“Sebastian, feels so good.” You feel like you’ve drank too much wine, head clouded and muddled. Your body is on fire and your muscles ache. Another slick palm climbs up your belly, resting on the curled purple mark above your womb. Your eyes widen, lashes smeared in dripping tears. You shake your head, “Wait-“

You catch the curved smile on his jaw before it’s curtained by the raven strands of hair. He doesn’t let you relax when he presses down on your navel, perfectly catching the pressure of his fingers prodding your gooey spot. You absolutely loose it, knees knocking together as you gush down his wrist.

You’re wailing, trying to kick the demon back from you as he fingers your sensitive pussy while pressing down onto your womb, but all he does is laugh and press down harder.

“There we go, there she is. Give it all to me.” It’s messy and slick with your cum, and you shake in the aftershocks. When Sebastian pulls his hand away his fingers are coated in a glossy coating of your slick, and he makes a show of pulling his fingers apart to parade the sticky webs of cum.

You pant, remnants of tears drying on your cheeks as you watch the butler take his slick fingers into his mouth. When he finishes he makes sure pull you down the bed by your thighs, leaning over with a too bright smile and saying, “Darling, did you think we were finished?”

#val.writes ❦#black butler.★#black butler smut #black butler x reader smut #Sebastian michaelis smut #Sebastian michaelis x reader #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji x reader

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lu-vin-it · 1 year

Note

could I request Carl Grimes soulmate au where their marks/works/whatever you choose shows up at a certain age and his soulmate is like Daryl's sister or some kid he took under his wing and he's Living when it happens?

Sweet on You

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Pairings: Carl Grimes x Reader

Pronouns Used: None mentioned

Word Count: 1164

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you to @yesland for proofreading! Ihy! Also, R calls Daryl “Daddy” because as a southerner, I wouldn’t dream of calling my Dad anything else to his face (even when I visit his grave I call him Daddy 💀) and it isn’t mentioned whether or not R is biologically related to Daryl!!

Up until you were 12 you only really had your Dad, Mom, and Uncle Merle. Your Mother homeschooled you and that was that. When the breakout first happened, you were terrified, clinging to your Dad no matter what. You and your family barely escaped your town, and it wasn’t until a couple hours after you all were on the road that your Mom admitted to being bit. Your Uncle Merle took her down to the woods and shot her at her request.

You guys came across a camp at a quarry and quickly came to the decision to stay there for a bit. You liked it there. You made friends with the other kids there, and overall, had a good time.

But now it’s years later and most of the people from the quarry have died. You still have your best friend, Carl, and you have a few other friends that you met when you arrived at Alexandria, though.

Over the years, you lost count of time, you weren’t sure how old you were, or more importantly, when your soulmark would show up. You knew your birthday was September 27th thanks to your Dad having it engraved in his mind, but you had no way of knowing when that was.

You also knew that Carl’s birthday was three weeks before yours, so when his mark showed up, you’d know that it’d be soon.

And his finally did. It was a messed up heart on his wrist, it was green, his favorite colour, and purple, coincidentally, your favorite colour.

You counted down the days until your birthday. It drove your Dad mad.

“Why the hell are you scratching up the walls?” He asks as he walks into the kitchen and sees you carving a line into the wall with your knife.

“To keep count of how many days till my birthday.”

“Just do it in your head. Ain’t no need for all that.” He says with a chuckle.

“If I do it in my head I’m bound to lose track! Not everyone’s got the memory of an elephant, Daddy.” You tell him, placing your hands on your hips. “‘Sides, I already told Rick and Michonne. They were fine with it.”

“Mhm.. How old you gonna be? Sixteen?”

“Yup!” You grin.

“Big age. Excited to get your mark?” You nod. “Yeah.. It’s a big day. Hey.. uh.. maybe you and I go do somethin’ together? For ole’ times sake?” Your heart soars.

“Course we can, Daddy. Wanna go campin’ like we did for my fifth birthday? We can do it just outside the fence.” He nods.

“I’ll get the supplies ready. When is it?”

“In about two weeks.”

“Alright. You tell me two days before and I’ll get everythin’ ready.” You nod in agreement and walk over to your Dad, placing a kiss on his cheek before going upstairs to yours and Judith’s room.

The night before your birthday came around quickly, and you and your Dad spent the entire day getting ready for your camping trip. At about noon, you both left Alexandria, and set up camp. You set up a fire and then sat with your Dad, talking about your Mom and what she would think of all this. Your Dad didn’t talk about her often, so you soaked it all up.

You both stayed up until midnight, and when the moon was finally in the center of the sky, you and your Dad stared at each other, just waiting for the burning sensation.

“Daddy, I think I feel it!” You looked down at your wrist, and sure enough, a messed up heart was appearing on your skin. He rushed over to look at it too, and you both watched in awe as the mark was finally there. Wait. What? Your jaw drops.

“That.. Ain’t that the same mark Carl has?” You nod. Your Dad breaks out into laughter.

“What’s funny ‘bout that?”

“Nothin’.. Just that you two have been attached at the hip since the farm.. makes sense is all.” You thought about it for a second, yeah, it sure does make sense. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved that it was him. Now you wouldn’t have to look for your soulmate, you’d just go home and show him and everything would be fine. Right?

You barely slept that night. You were terrified that Carl would be upset that it was you. How would you even tell him? Just.. walk up to him? Show him your wrist and say “Haha looks like we’re soulmates!”?

The next morning, you were quiet. Your Dad noticed it. He kept trying to tell you jokes, or show you a bird, or something. But you didn’t really budge.

“Okay kid, what’s got you so.. down?” Your Dad asks as you guys walk home.

“Hm? I’m not down.”

“You are too.”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not down.”

“Y/N.. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known yourself. I know when you’re down.” You sigh.

“I dunno.. I just don’t know how he’s gonna react.” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“He’s gonna be over the moon. Why wouldn’t he be? Shit, he’s been sweet on you for years.” You stop and look at him.

“What?”

“You didn’t know?” You shake your head. “Didn’t know I raised a dumbass.” You smile and punch his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up.” You start walking again. “And never say ‘sweet on’ again. You sound like you’re a thousand years old.”

When you get to Alexandria, you take a deep breath before going inside. Carl and Enid were waiting for you at the gate.

“Show us!” Enid yells as her and Carl jog up to you.

“Show you what?” You ask, feigning ignorance.

“Your mark, come on!” Carl grabs your wrist. They both see the mark and you anxiously rock back and forth on your heels.

“Say something.” You say with a nervous chuckle.

“Don’t your marks match?” The brunette girl asks. Carl nods.

“Yeah they do. We’re soulmates?”

“Looks like it.” You take your wrist away and look at your feet. “Um.. I better go put my stuff away.” You walk off before they can reply.

You do end up putting away your things, and as you’re putting away your blankets, Carl barges into your room.

“Why’d you run away?” He asks, panting.

“I.. why are you so out of breath?”

“I asked first.”

“You seemed.. upset. I don’t know. I wanted to give you space.”

“Well I don’t want space.”

“Well how was I supposed to know?”

“Well you didn’t really wait for me to say something so you didn’t know.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m listening now.”

“I don’t want space.”

“Yes.. I think we’ve established that.”

“Ever. I’m happy you’re my soulmate.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

“I’m happy you’re my soulmate too.” You say with a smile. Carl breaks out in one as well, and before you know it, he’s walking towards you and kissing you.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader

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riiwriting · 1 year

Text

Conflict of Interest | Solomon (Obey Me)

summary : you should have known that an apprenticeship under your best friend would bring nothing but trouble. keeping relationship strictly platonic was difficult enough in itself, so it was inevitable when your additional time together drew you into one another's arms. the only issue with falling in love with Solomon was that you knew nothing would ever be the same.

no pronouns / second person pov

warnings : explicit language, no actual smut but pretty direct allusions to sex, mildly toxic relationship

very loosely inspired by the Bright Eyes song Lua (and the Mac Miller cover of it on soundcloud) :

and i know you have a heavy heart / i can feel it when we kiss

me i'm not a gamble / you can count on me to split / the love i sell you in the evening / by the morning won't exist

what feels normal in the evening, by the morning, feels insane.

To say that you and Solomon weren’t on good terms would be an understatement.

It hadn’t always been like this – in fact, until very recently, you had held no one closer. Your close friendship had only gotten stronger once you officially adopted the role of being his apprentice. You had always been apprehensive about mixing your professional and personal lives, but you knew there was no one you trusted more to help you hone your magic than your white-haired friend. And after everything the two of you had been through together, no one else understood you quite as well.

The two of you had more than proven that you made a good team, both as friends and sorcerers. After months of spending nearly every moment together, there was no one you felt safer with – no one you cared for more deeply – than your mentor. There came a point where you couldn’t fathom anything, not even fate worst’s punishments, threatening the bond that you shared.

Then Solomon made the very mistake that you had sworn you would never make.

He sashayed across the invisible line drawn so thinly between you – the line you had been pacing frantically along for months. It was inevitable; you’re sure you would have caved and made the same error if he hadn’t. Drunk on excitement and a little too much wine, there was no better atmosphere to destroy everything the two of you had so carefully built together.

The inevitability of it all was painfully obvious by the way you melted in his hands when he touched you, pulling your hips against his with an unashamed grin. It was obvious when your eyes fluttered shut on instinct at the sensation of his cold fingertips grazing your warm cheek. And it was obvious still when he desperately covered your lips with his own, and you realized that this was what you had truly been waiting for, all this time.

It was the beginning and the end of it all. You spent that evening, and many more just like it, disregarding all common sense in a frenzied haze, desperate to scratch an itch that had been burning in both of you for far too long. Nothing about it warranted any conversation between you, as it never felt necessary.

In such moments, he was as eager as you were restless, the glide and feel of his bare skin against your own seemingly the most normal thing in all of the three realms; like you were destined to fall for him. As though he wouldn’t rest until he had come to know every inch of you, his intentions rarely clear and almost never pure.

You knew from the conditions of it that the depth of your emotions were not reciprocated. You had avoided it for so long because you knew he would ruin you, and you were of the impression that he most likely knew it too. It was common knowledge that he couldn’t love you, but when his head was between your thighs, watery eyes shining up at you in near worship, it sure as hell felt like he did. And if your desperate cries of his name weren’t enough to show him how you felt, you hoped the pretty purple marks you painted along his collarbone did the trick.

The unfortunate thing about time, of course, is that evenings always come to an end. Sometimes, waking up in the morning is a beautiful thing. Other times, waking up in the morning, deeply sore with a pounding headache, means facing the unfortunate reality that you made a mistake.

That’s always what waking up in Solomon’s bed meant. The same bed, yet miles apart – at arm’s length, if he was still there at all. He had wanted you so fiercely just a few hours ago. You had known all along that you didn’t want this – you didn’t want to put yourself through this – and now you had. The blame fell equally across the two of you. You each had sins to repent.

You’d think you would learn from your mistakes, but you didn’t. Not a week later, when you found yourselves alone together in a train cabin on an uncomfortably long trip in the human realm. Or two weeks after that, when he called you in the dead of night just to hear your voice, begging you to come to him. While you typically did quite well with your lessons, you seemed to be having a hard time learning this one.

You didn’t care to know what his purposes in nocturnally pursuing your heart were. Perhaps you were simply convenient, or maybe you were just someone he was comfortable with. You doubted anything more. But you believed with aching decision that you would keep running this race however long it took. He was still, at the core of everything, your best friend. You craved consistency from him, but you were content with whatever cards fate decided to play. You would’ve been content with anything, as long as it was him.

Now you could hardly stomach the sight of him.

Yet here you were, reliant on him once again.

Lost in past, there was no one else you could contact who might be able to help you figure out what the hell was going on. It just so happened that he had been looking for you too, apparently unsatisfied with the way you left things.

“Well when you suddenly disappeared, I had to come look for you,” he said earnestly, as though his concern was genuine. As though this was nothing more than another adventure for him in the Devildom.

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Funny, how quickly you worry when I’m not at your convenience.”

You watched as his face shifted from concern to frustration. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re also my student and friend,” he said sharply.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting against the anger that flared in your stomach. “Also?” you repeated scaldingly. “What exactly is the first thing you think of when I come to mind?”

He rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from snapping at you. After he had gone through all this trouble, practically cementing himself in the past with you, still unsure of a way back, he was infuriated that this was how you chose to greet him. As much as he tried to fight it, he was also frustrated that you wouldn’t believe him when he said he had been worried about you. He knew things had changed, but he had never thought you could believe he didn’t care about you.

You were expecting an answer, and it took him a moment to work out how to properly articulate one. “I was speaking in reference to which of our relationships you clearly value the most,” he spoke apathetically.

His assumption seared at your chest, and you had to dig your fingernails into your palms to resist the urge to curse him. You knew he’d be stronger than any curse you could conjure anyway, especially in your current state of mind. You opted for non-magical words instead. “It’d be in your best interest not to assume you know how I feel,” You cautioned.

When he simply raised a lazy eyebrow, your frustration reached a fever point. Trying to collect your anger to formulate a rational argument, so it was inevitable when you threw your hands up, your eyes threatening tears.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The air of Cocytus Hall grew still. For a moment, Solomon wasn’t sure if his anger was fading or growing worse. Regardless, his composure hardly changed. “Then why do you?” he asked.

You wanted to scream. “You know why,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

His expression flickered briefly, his cool expression drifting into a soft look of shame. It was only a matter of moments before he was back to his normal self, quietly admitting, “I do know why.” He let a silence fill the air, unsure of how the hostile look in your eyes was making him feel. After a breath, he dared to say, “I want to hear you say it.”

Only he would be pompous enough to make demands in the midst of an argument. As a mentor, his arrogant insistence was welcomed, but when he got like this…

“Why?” You began your interrogation, your voice raising against your will. “Why must I always lower myself for you? Why do I always have to be the one who’s vulnerable? Who’s at your convenience?” By the end of it, you were shouting, and you had nearly cleared the room, putting yourself directly within arms reach of Solomon.

You wouldn’t hit him, of course. You’d never do such a thing, not even in your worst of tempers. But you could feel your anger bubbling through your veins, like steam rising from your skin. You wanted him to be able to feel how much you hated this. How much you hated that you were stuck here with him. How you hated the way you felt about him.

“You’ve never said it,” Solomon simply answered, his demeanor unfazed by your new proximity. If anything, he used your movement to his advantage, straightening his back to perfect his posture, a silent reminder of who exactly you were talking to.

Still, he knew well that you weren’t one to shy away quickly, not even from him. “Why would I?” you countered, your eyes narrowed and dark. “I do respect myself, Solomon.”

“I see it in your eyes every time I take off your clothes,” Solomon hummed in a low voice, his gaze still holding an argumentative heat. “I feel it every time you kiss me, every time you ask me to stay a little while longer. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, MC, yet you’re too damn stubborn to admit it to my face?”

At that point, your anger bubbled over into embarrassment, which bubbled into helplessness. You didn’t understand why he was being so cruel. “Why do you insist on making this so painful?” you asked, at this point, seeking mercy.

What you were seeking found you. Solomon’s eyes softened, the expression different from his usual lustful gaze. He let his passive façade slip, exposing a gentle vulnerability I hadn’t seen from him in quite some time. “Why can’t you just admit that you’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice thick with repressed emotion. Your gaze faltered, and it was his turn to push back. “What is so terrible about your attraction to me? Why are you so ashamed?”

“This is why!” You snapped quickly, your anger returning. “Because you know exactly how I feel about you, and you hold it against me. You use is to your advantage, for your entertainment!”

A sudden look of desperation flashed across his face as he finally understood how you truly saw him. “You think I want you any less?” he asked in a quiet plea. Suddenly, the thought of you thinking such absurdity reignited his anger. His voice raised as he pressed, “This isn’t just some game to me.”

A slight scoff slipped past your lips on instinct, causing his shoulders to tense. When he peered at you with burning curiosity, you finally voiced your deepest thoughts. “Solomon, you’re using me! You’re using how I feel about you!”

His initial instinct, of course, was to say absolutely anything he could to prove to you otherwise. He had meant every drunken whisper and lustful remark, every desire for you he had ever had. He needed you just as dependently as you had ever needed him. He had lived for centuries and never encountered anything that compared even remotely to you.

He longed for you achingly, but knew that the two of you had a lot of things to balance. You had a lot of roles to fill. He had always figured that there was simply a time and place.

Now, hearing your devastating beliefs, he wanted to argue, fight, plead – hell, the man was ready to drop to his knees. But as he turned over the entirety of your statement in his head, he suddenly couldn’t focus on his need to reassure you. His mind fixated on your vocabulary, and the way that even now, even after everything you both had said, you still had not said that you loved him.

It was driving him mad.

A wave of anxiety had him running a hand through his shaggy white hair, tugging almost painfully at the roots. When he withdrew his hand, his hair was a tousled mess, and the sight of it made your breath catch. His eyes settled on you in a silent plead.

You don’t know what it was, or what about it was so compelling, but you seemed to be able to read his expression fluently. Something clicked in your brain, forcing you to the conclusion that maybe this was something Solomon needed.

You were pleased when tears didn’t settle into your eyes. Maybe you had been doing a good job getting over it. “I just don’t understand why, Solomon. Why are you doing this to someone who loves you so much?”

There it was. The word left your perfect lips and strung Solomon up by his throat, forcing him to completely freeze into place. He had been directly asking for it – begging for it – but he admittedly wasn’t sure you’d ever cave. Even then, he didn’t know if it would have the impact he hoped.

It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t exactly a whole, intended confession. It left him wanting, aching to hear you repeat it a little more clearly. The more he thought about it, the more he discovered the he wanted to hear you say it over, and over, and over…

Your heart fluttered at the genuine desire that clouded his grey eyes. For so long he had wondered if fate had simply decided that being loved was not in the cards for him. Of course, he had heard false declarations in his lifetime – insistences and sweet nothings thrown his way from demons and humans alike in an attempt to get something from him. He had on many occasions been consumed by lust, left to wonder if anyone could ever truly long for him in such heady exasperation.

He had dismissed such musings long ago, deciding within the first few centuries of his life that he had nothing to gain from dwelling upon his condition. He had become one of the most powerful sorcerers – one of the most powerful beings – in all the realms. Certainly, his energy was better exerted onto other things.

Yet now you were here, eyes flared indignantly, the words he always found so far out of reach laying on your lips. At long last, the one quality he thought he was truly incapable of possessing. The lone piece missing from his immortal soul. Years ago, accepting Diavolo’s terms of an exchange student program, Solomon never would have thought that what he had been seeking for so long would turn out to be you.

But when your eyes finally gave way to tears, your jaw quivering in a fight against your frustrated sobs, there was no doubting it. “Are you happy now?” Your voice shook as you questioned him, your watery eyes squinting against the weight pooling against your lashes. “You win, Solomon. I love you, and I’ve always fucking loved you, and you’ve never once deserved it.”

Something in his brain snapped. His words caught in his throat, his body too far stimulated with the simultaneous relief of hearing your confession, and resentment at your regret. You accused him so easily of being cruel, yet freely stood before him, assaulting his pride with the most shattering contradiction imaginable. He should have reminded you of your fault in this, held the mirror to your eyes as you accused him being indecisive with your feelings.

But he couldn’t blame you. Nothing about his flippant ways warranted being loved by you. Not the way he disappeared for weeks, sometimes months on end, withholding a menagerie of secrets from you. Not his cocky demeanor every time you caved and admitted you needed him, nor his snarky remarks whenever you genuinely sought out his comfort.

He couldn’t help who he was – what he was – but he had so often proven that he really did possess the ability to treat you properly. He knew you better than anyone else. For so long, he behaved as though he would do anything in hell and creation to keep you safe; even now, he was clumsily putting himself into harm’s way to bring you home. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t see that.

“I don’t feel like I’ve won,” he eventually admitted in bitter reverence. “I feel like I’m very much losing something very important.”

A pressure weighed on your chest as your shoulders heaved an exhausted shrug. “We can’t keep doing this,” you finally surrendered.

As soon as the words began to leave your mouth, Solomon began shaking his head. “MC, please,” he begged, his eyes glossy. “I need you.”

His voice was gutted with his admission, the most sincere you’d ever heard it – or possibly the best performance. You shook your head at what you assumed was his final futile attempt to keep you from walking away. To you surprise, when you turned to do just that, the sorcerer bolted in front of you, blocking your path to the door with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Solomon…” you warned, your tone sharp.

He held his palms out in a signal of peace. You understood the expression on his face as a request for one final chance to tell you how he felt. When you didn’t move, he let his hands fall to his side. “You don’t understand. I have never needed anything but my own talents. I have hundreds of years of experience, and yet I don’t think I would know how to move on from you leaving. All this time, it was as if I’ve been missing this piece of myself. Then one day, there you were, and…”

He trailed off, his eyes adverting from yours as he let out a deep sigh. After a moment to compose himself, he returned his attention to your awaiting gaze. “Neither of us are perfect, me particularly less so,” he admitted bashfully. “But we can’t change who we are. I am, and will be for as long as the earth turns, so deeply sorry that my actions ever led you to believe that I do not love you. I never intended to inflict any of this misery on you. But you have to understand who I am.”

At first, your frustration stabbed at you, insisting pessimistically that he was simply making excuses. The longer you gave yourself to steep, the more you seemed to understand the expression drawn across his handsome features. He had rarely, if ever at all, spoken about past relationships or flings. You had never allowed yourself to assume one way or another, but his testimony seemed to be proving to you that he was so desperate for you to love him because he had never been loved before.

It then dawned on you that he really wasn’t asking you to continue allowing him to carry things on as they had been. He wasn’t asking to use you. His eyes were begging for you to simply be patient with him. You loved the man he had been when you were friends, on those warm evenings, and he was quietly promising to become that man permanently, if you would just stay.

You hated the way your resolve crumbled when his fingers tentatively reached for your wrists, gently pulling your hands into his. You knew that he should have run out of chances by now, but you had to admit that neither of you had exactly been clear in your communication before. You were inclined to give in just because of that.

The problem lied in the nature of Solomon’s words. He was speaking the truth, as you knew, but his admission was not the promise of quick change that admittedly was ideal. It was a request of commitment – and, in fairness, an alleged vow of the same. He was asking for you to be with him, to help him become someone worthy of your devotion. It was no small ask, but his hands had moved to settle on your waist, and you found yourself relenting.

“I’ll stay,” you conceded quietly, absentmindedly stepping further into his reach. One of his hands moved up your body to caress your cheek, his eyes burning with relief and desire. You allowed him to press a soft kiss to your lips, but pulled back as he tried to deepen it. Catching his desperate gaze, you reiterated, “I will stay for now.”

Solomon’s eyes flickered. You knew he was already thinking of future ways to prove to you that he was worth it. The thoughtful expression quickly disappeared, replaced by a look of admiration that you were becoming quite familiar with. “I’ll take any time you’ll give me,” he confessed feebly before regaining control of the situation, kissing you fiercely.

This time, there was no pulling back. Not as he kissed you hungrily against the mantle in the living room that had just moments ago been a battle ground, his thigh braced between your legs as you moaned his name against his mouth. Not as you felt him press against you, every excited muscle of his body fighting desperately against his clothes. Not as he led you stumbling down the hall to the room he had claimed as his own, telling you between kisses that it was your room now, too.

You didn’t pull back as you allowed yourself to succumb to the familiar comfort of being with him. It was different this time, your minds and bodies freshly fueled by the emotions you had shared earlier. This time, when his haughty gaze told you he loved you, you believed him.

And when you woke up in the morning, anxiety pooling in your stomach at what you had yet again done, you found yourself being kept warm and safe by the protective arms of your mentor. Feeling you stir against his chest, he pressed closer against your back, kissing you lightly on the back of your neck. “Good morning, darling,” he murmured, the words casting a slight breeze across your skin.

There were no feelings of insanity as you turned in his arms, your heart burning at the sight of his half-asleep smile. When you dared to press a kiss onto his lips, he fell right into it, his hand against your lower back holding you close. When he finally released your lips, your head was in a daze. Belligerently, you murmured, “I love you.”

His body tensed against you, still not used to being on the receiving end of those words. His reaction instilled panic back into your chest, as you worried that he was going to end up regretting his vulnerability after all.

You were well prepared to scramble away from him, until you felt his lips brush against your skin; first your forehead, then from your temple to your cheek bone, dotting a purposeful line down your jawline until he paused over your lips. “I love you,” he repeated back to you. “So much that I can’t stand it.”

And when he kissed you again, his lips moving perfectly against yours, you finally understood what he meant about being two parts of the same whole.

#obey me otome #shall we date? obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me / reader #obey me oneshot #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon obey me #solomon x reader #obey me angst #solomon angst #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #nightbringer solomon

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years

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of magic and men | daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader

Description: When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; madness and greatness. Who said that they couldn't be both?

Your uncle Daemon fights a war with the Crabfeeder and whispers tell you that your father favors his son, Aegon. Which leads you towards a dark path – one of the blackest magic. (requested by @izzybella016) (she/her pronouns used) (TW: creepy behavior, manipulation, blood magic)

Featuring an original character

Being a woman meant laughing at men's jokes, even when it came to your expense. Being her father's heir, meant being the joke. As a child Y/N Targaryen knew how weak her father way – how incapable he was of ruling, and despite all of those facts, she still chose to love him.

A child's love for their parent is insurmountable – but not infinite. It has an end – a breaking point, and Y/N was sure that her father had far exceeded his limits. He chases down the newest thing – his newest son, and tossing away little old Y/N.

"There's no one here for me," she chuckles while turning to look at her sworn shield, Ser Alvaro. He was her only friend in the entire kingdom – everyone either wanted something from her, or wanted to get rid of her. He was constant, he was her rock.

He stands behind her – the darkness only illuminating his features. He places a hand on her shoulder, "All of them are vultures, seeking to gnaw on your bones" he replies while she nods in agreement.

"I feel unsafe here – was it a mistake? Returning here?" she asks for his opinion as he settles his sword down on the table, sitting beside her and placing a hand on the small of her back. "Do you truly seek for my opinion?" he questions sarcastically as she rolls her eyes. "What do you mean?" she turns her head and he shrugs.

Ser Alvaro was wise as he was strong. His opinions were one of the most important things to Y/N. "Well you never truly listen to what I tell you – you'd always prefer listening to Princess Rhaenyra and your uncle" he states the obvious as she frowns.

"I'll listen to what you'll say now" she enunciates as a sigh escapes from his lips. "I'll say the truth – nothing but the truth," he promises as she agrees. "Of course" she replies as he leans a little forward, his lips barely touching her ears.

"His majesty, King Viserys and Lord Otto – they seek to replace you. They favor your brother, Prince Aegon. I – I tried to convince them, but they would not listen to me" he announces as her frown deepens. Her doubts were correct! Her father did not love her anymore, he favors his son with the broody queen.

She gasps as her eyes began to form beads of tears. "What do you mean?" she queried as he wipes a tear away. "It is not yet written in stone, my princess. There are other ways to make sure that your father doesn't remove you as heir" he confirms as she chuckles bitterly.

"It's not like we could kill my brother, Ser Alvaro." she rolls her eyes as she slumps against the wooden chair. He pauses and she raises an eyebrow. "That is exactly what we should do!"

---

Alvaro enjoyed tainting the princess – teaching her magic far beyond the comprehension of this world. She was a wonderful pupil, dedicated and obedient. He enjoyed teaching her.

Ser Alvaro lusted over her – imagining her porcelain skin and her ivy complexion writhing underneath his warm body. But she wasn't an easy catch, every step came with defiance – but now he knew that he could trust her – heck he could love her now.

He traces his hands on her naked skin, carefully counting the days until he could have what he wants. "Ser Alvaro" she breaks him free of his thoughts as he turns to look at her.

His eyes – entranced by her feverish purple eyes. "Yes, my princess" he whispers – the taste of her, yet to leave his mouth. She smiles, and traces circles on his unclothed chest. "My father tells me that you and my uncle will fight in the tourney. And I wonder who I shall give my favor to" she ponders as he chuckles loudly.

After all this time, the princess should know, who her favor belonged to. "My princess, you offend me greatly" he jokes as he closes his eyes in mock hurt. She presses a kiss on his cheeks, giggling at his childishness. "I was jesting, my knight" she retorts – closing her eyes in tiredness.

She yawns, "Do you really think that killing my brother is the right thing to do?" she asks him and he hums in return. Well – it wasn't the right thing to do, but it would benefit Ser Alvaro – which made it the best thing to do.

"Yes – it is the only way"

---

Daemon's eye searches the red keep for any signs of his beloved niece. Confusion befalling his face as he realizes who she was standing with. It was Ser Alvaro – previously of the gold cloaks until he was banished for dipping into dark magic – blood magic.

He grabs her arms, and her body turns sharply towards him. "Uncle" she mutters in confusion as Daemon glares at her knight. "Prince Daemon" Alvaro smirks as the prince glares at him further. "May I speak to the princess alone?" he requests as Y/N dismisses her knight.

"Is everything alright?" she asks as Daemon's frown deepens. A million thoughts ran through his head – how long has Ser Alvaro been in The Princess' service? What was the man plotting?

"Who was that?" he interrogates as she looks at the knight's direction. "He is my sworn sword" she explains as a chuckle escapes from his lips. He had just escape war, he didn't realize he'd be coming back home to it.

His eyes darkened as she frowns in return. "And I assume that your father appointed him! That idiot" he rambled off as she places a hand on both of his shoulders. She couldn't understand why he was acting so panicked, when Ser Alvaro was an ally.

"Yes? And what of it?" she questions as he groans, "What has he done to you? Does he hurt you?" he interrogates placing a hand on her chin and inspecting her face deeply.

She shoves his hands away. She felt offended by his notion – she loved Ser Alvaro and he would never do anything to hurt her. "Uncle – I apologize but I cannot understand what you're doing. And perhaps I should not be telling you this, but what me and Ser Alvaro have is different. He cares for me –" she remarks but was quickly shut down by Daemon.

"Cares for you?" he defenses as she nods. "Yes – and he's the only one whose been in a while" she adds while walking away. He pulls her back and corners her on the wall.

"He has preyed on your vulnerability – I warn you now, my princess. He has done the darkest of all magics and he will stop at nothing to have what he desires" he yells as a strange realization befalls upon her.

A few months ago, rumors were spread around court about Queen Alicent and Ser Alvaro. They said that they both had an affair and that the child The Queen was pregnant with was sired by him. That was around the time – Ser Alvaro placed a seed of doubt in Y/N's head.

If Prince Aegon died – and presume that Y/N would be caught red handed. The Queen's child – one that was allegedly sired by Ser Alvaro would become heir.

She gasps and places a hand on her mouth. "Oh no"

pt. 2

A/N: Was really playing around the idea of dark magic, Part 2??

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader

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gingerjunhan · 8 months

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fashion show - oh seungmin

synopsis: after showing your boyfriend what felt like a countless number of dresses, he finally helps you pick out “the one”

word count: 594 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: reader wears dresses, reader is called “beautiful,” not proofread (who’s surprised), lmk if I missed any

“Okay, what do you think about this one?” You ripped open the curtain to your dressing room to reveal yet another dress to your boyfriend.

“Hmm,” Seungmin began, “it looks good, but I still like the purple one the best so far.”

You had a wedding coming up in a few weeks, and you needed to find something to wear. So, naturally, you turned to the most fashionable guy you know for help. Seungmin gave you his honest opinions on all of the dresses, and you were slowly narrowing it down by process of elimination.

You had started to grow frustrated. As much as you loved hearing Seungmin tell you how pretty you look over and over, you just wanted to find your dress and get this over with. You’ve been shopping for hours, visiting multiple different stores, and you were getting ready to give up.

You let out a yawn, “Okay, I have one more to try on. If I don’t like it, I’m giving up for the day. Modeling is tiring.” Seungmin laughed a bit at your comment as you turned around and walked back into the dressing room.

“If you don’t find a dress in a store, I can help you look online.” Seungmin offered to you from the other side of the dressing room door. As you considered his offer, you put on your final dress of the day. You tried your hardest to zip it yourself, but the zipper was just out of your reach.

“Seungmin,” you called out to him. “I can get this one zipped. Can you help me?” Seungmin replied with a happy mhm! and entered the dressing room behind you.

You watched in the mirror as Seungmin shut you both into the small dressing room. Wordlessly, he turned to you, his hands finding their way to the small of your back as he fiddled with the small zipper. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his hands as he tugged the zipper upward- ever so slightly grazing the skin of your back with his knuckles on the way up. Seungmin looked at you in the mirror once he finished zipping you up. “Oh baby.”

The dress you had on was a dark, emerald green. It had a strap that went over one shoulder, and it ended around your mid thigh. Seungmin rested his hands on your hips as he scanned his eyes over you in the mirror.

“You look so beautiful.”

Despite having heard similar words from him all day, the close proximity of the dressing room somehow made this time around feel different. The way his hands rested gently on your hips, feeling their warmth through the fabric of the dress. How the two of you made eye contact in the mirror, and noticed the no-so-subtle rosy tints that covered both of your cheeks. It made you shy, like you were hearing him say those words for the very first time.

“You really like it?” You probably liked this dress the most out of all the ones you had tried on today, but Seungmin’s praises were definitely the cherry on top.

“Of course I do,” he confirmed with a smile, wrapping his arms around you now. “Modeling may be tiring, but you make it look so easy.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek and now it was your turn to laugh at his usage of your joke. “I’ll unzip your dress so you can get changed and we can go pay.”

“Sounds good,” you yawned again. “This model needs a nap.”

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #ode x reader

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yourebeingsobrave · 6 months

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(She/Her Pronouns)

The Jotun are storming the planet. All Y/N can see is blue. All she can feel is cold. All she can hear is war. Fear fills her as the Jotun approach her family’s hiding place. The guards are slaughtered before Y/N’s eyes and tears well up in her face- she knows what happens next. Right before the moment the Jotun reaches Y/N’s parents- the dream stops.

Y/N sits up in bed with a gasp. Her face is sweaty, she can feel herself on the verge of a panic attack. Her hair falls in front of her face and is frazzled. Y/N tucks her hair behind her ear and gets out of bed.

Although she had lived here for years, Y/N was always amazed by how stunning Asgard was at night. The palace lit up under the stars of the nine realms in a beautiful glory. Y/N often had nightmares of the destruction of her home planet. Although it happened time and time again, she always woke up in a panic.

The palace garden was her favorite place to go in times like this. So that is where Y/N went tonight. The garden was stunning under the stars, the hues of blue and purple enchanted the garden. Y/N spent a while admiring the garden’s life. She then sought to relax on one of the many golden benches in the garden.

Y/N looked up at the sky. The stars had to be her favorite part of this planet. She continued to be in awe of them. Y/N admired the sky and did not notice Loki approaching her in the garden.

Once Loki got close enough, Y/N felt his presence. It wasn’t a threatening presence, Loki had always calmed her. Loki and Y/N had been friends for years now, and she had grown comfort in his presence.

“Loki, why are you awake?” Y/N asked softly. Her voice was sleepy.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Loki replied in a low voice. He sat down next to Y/N on the bench. He didn’t look at her, he just looked straight ahead- as if he was nervous. This didn’t make sense to Y/N, they had known each other for what felt like eternity.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N turned her attention to Loki and tilted her head at him. Her eyes filled with concern towards her friend. He was usually such a confident and charismatic god.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Loki still refused eye contact, but he reached for Y/N’s hand on the bench. He took it hesitantly- gently. Y/N was flustered by it. His touch was so soft. This was something she was not used to from him.

“Of course I’m okay… are you okay?” Y/N asked gently. His actions were concerning her. Loki was not the type to share his emotions like this- he kept them buried away for his reputations sake.

Loki had nightmares of his own tonight. Nightmares of Y/N’s death. When he had awoke- the depth of his love for her was made known to him. She was so much more than just a friend to her. He felt the overwhelming desire to protect her, to care for her.

“I love you, Y/N.” Loki finally looked at her, his eyes filled with fear of what she would say next.

“Well I love you too Loki, you’re such a good friend and” Y/N’s words were interrupted by Loki’s hand over her mouth.

“No. Y/N. I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I always have been.” Loki looked more confident now, there was a dominance in his eyes she had not seen directed to her before. Y/N liked it.

Suddenly, the words hit her. Loki loved her? Y/N loved him too of course. She had shut those feelings away for so long. Y/N feared the end of their friendship if she ever confessed her feelings. But these words… he loved her too?

Loki released his hand from Y/N’s mouth, and she finally had a chance to respond. But she had no words for him. No words that could match her actions.

Y/N threw herself into Loki’s lips- and they crashed together with the passion of a thousand suns. She felt Loki’s hands creep onto her waist- his touch was cold as ice, a perfect contrast to her warm skin. Despite her past with the Jotun race, Y/N loved every single bit of Loki. Even the part of him that was of Jotunheim. Y/N gripped Loki’s night shirt with intense desperation. This is a moment she had only dreamed of.

Loki only wanted more once he had finally gotten a taste of Y/N, her lips so soft, her skin so warm, her hair so soft. Her skin was glowing under the stars.

When the kiss broke, Y/N smiled and a small blush grew on her face. “I love you too.”

#loki #oneshot #marvel #loki x reader #asgardians

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arsontisticallyinfernal · 2 years

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▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ 𝒯𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁

ミ★ 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 ★彡

Summary: What if Yuu/MC snapped, lashing out at everyone for not even being thanked or asked how they are about the overblots and more.

Content warnings: Bottled up frustration and trauma, swearing, overblot mentions, characters are most likely ooc, yelling, traumatic experiences from the overblots, overbloting[random student] and minor blood

Genre: Angst, no comfort, oneshot

Fandom: Disney: Twisted wonderland

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek

Pronouns: They/them reader, He/ him Ace, He/him Deuce, He/him Epel, He/him Jack, He/him Sebek

Edited: hell nah ddfjhsdk, there will be grammar mistakes.

Writing time: On and off for four hours [multi-tasking]

꧁༺….༻꧂

It was a normal day at NRC, the first years made trouble and Yuu was ready to bail them out of shenanigans like always, though right when the sun was starting to set, and everyone started calming down, an overblot happened. It was a random Scarabia student, that of course like everyone else, was facing some mental issues and needed a therapist. Like always, Yuu banded together the rest of the first years and went to Scarabia to face the overblot, it was tricky like most of them, but everyone worked together and defeated the overblot, saving the student's life.

After the overblot, everyone that witnessed the fight was thanking the first years, all the first years besides Yuu. Yuu was laying on the ground, wounded and tired from the fight, exhausted from working too much.

They ran their fingers through their hair and let out a loud sigh, Yuu's eyes were lifeless and there were dark circles underneath, dirt and sand smudged across their entire face, sweat clung to their clothes and skin like a leech and blood trickled down their forehead, unlike the rest of the group that was defended by their magic, Yuu...wasn't. This left them defenseless and the main target, so they just became bait, they distracted the blot the entire fight, running around while the others attacked.

Yuu shakily stood up, and looked to the first years, the Scarabia students crowded them with apologies and thank you's. And yet Yuu was left there, bleeding and covered in dirt, without them the overblot wouldn't have been defeated, along with every other overblot. Yuu frowned at this and tightened their hands into fists and gritted their teeth, their knuckles turned purple and their face red with anger. The prefect quickly left the scene with a scowl, tears pricking at their eyes like thorns in their side.

Yuu arrived back at campus, walking back from the teleporter with tear streaks down their face. "Yuu! Wait up!" A familiar voice called out from behind, causing Yuu to hurriedly try to wipe away the tear stains, turning around and giving Ace a smile, behind him they see the rest of the first year squad treading behind. "Hey guys" Yuu greeted, giving an uneasy and sour-looking smile. "Where'd you run off to after the fight?" "Well obviously here-" Deuce gave a snarky response to his dormmates question, earning him a jab in the ribs, so Jack spoke up. "You okay, Yuu? I noticed how beaten up you were" the beastman asked, concerned. "You know it was foolish of you to do that!" Sebek scolded, mentioning when you were distracting the blot monster. "I know, I know. But how else would you guys fight that thing?" "Well, we didn't need you distracting it, we're strong enough to fight on our own, we've done this plenty of times!" Ace huffed, crossing his arms. Everyone gave him a warning glance, but it seemed that this was Yuu's last straw.

"What the fuck do you mean." Yuu's face fell into a grimace, their hands balled into fists, and they spoke in a threatening tone. "Say that one. more. time." The magicless student spat, their tone venomous with bottled wrath threatening to spill onto everyone. Epel tried to speak up but he was cut off by Yuu's piercing voice. "I did...everything! Without me the overblots wouldn't ever be defeated! You'd all be dead! I'm the one that suffers from the overblots the most, I'm the one that has to deal with them! I'm not even from this fucking magical world! I'm still waiting for our stupid headmage to find me a way to go home!" They yelled, hands reaching up to their hair and pulling it, their eyes were wide and they looked at the squad with a look that showcased nothing but rage. "Yuu..." Jack whispered in pity, his tail hung low and ears pinned to his head, they all looked shocked, wide eyes and mouths agape. "Yuu...we're sorry" They couldn't tell who was speaking anymore, their eyes filled with tears and everyone sounded the same. "I'm done. That's it. I'm going back to Ramshackle. If no one is thankful for what I've done then there's no point in doing a thing."

That night the squad was left speechless, it was unusual for them all to be this quiet, especially Sebek. They could only pray to the great seven they didn't lose Yuu, not yet. The only way they all got info on Yuu was through Grim, yet they had to bribe the feline with tuna to even get an atom worth of info, but that was enough, that was good enough even if Yuu never spoke to them anymore, for now.

꧁༺….༻꧂

Requests are always open

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r4zberrygirl · 10 months

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I don't want you like a best friend

hinata shoyo x gn reader, post timeskip/brazil arc, fluff, 1k+ words

cw: suggestive but no explicit sex, bars/drinking, reader wears a dress and is shorter than hinata

an: this might be my fav one so far! brazil!hinata just does smth to me man he's so ! i definitely wrote this with she/her pronouns in mind but still no pronouns and no physical description of reader :) -raz

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dress

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

From his broad build to his tanned, freckled skin, it was clear to you that it had been a while since you last saw Hinata Shoyo. Shoyo had been a close friend of yours since you met in your second year of highschool at Karasuno. However his enthusiasm to play beach volleyball in Brazil swept him away from you like fallen leaves to a harsh wind. You could never resent him for leaving Japan to follow his dream, but it was hard not being able to keep in touch due to your busy schedules, yours with school and his with sports. But here you are, two years since graduating and finally in the same room as the one you missed the absolute most.

Daichi and the other previous third years had planned a team reunion as soon as they heard everyone would be back in town. And you, being the manager that Kiyoko trained to work alongside Yachi, were of course invited as well. Daichi and Suga had gone out of their way to rent out a room in that bar in the middle of town. You had been before, but the men inside were never able to leave you as breathless as the one you were looking at now. You hadn’t yet gone up to speak to Shoyo but even from a distance you could notice how his career shaped him, physically I mean. His shoulders were wide and you could tell his back was toned through the white tee he was wearing, you think that you could spend all day ogling his arms but alas you’d have to speak to him at some point.

You stand behind him as he finishes up a conversation with Tanaka, itching to reach out and tap him for his attention. Your hands clam up when he spins around to greet you. “_____,” Shoyo breathed out. You're certain everything around you went silent when your name left his lips. Not one for handshakes, he pulls you into a hug as soon as your mouth opens to say hello. You can't complain about his move though because it gives you the excuse to feel his hard chest. “Oh my god it’s been forever! How are you? How’s school going?” Shoyo casually interrogates you.

“Hi Sho! I’ve been doing okay and school is boring but it’s going well! And it really has been a while, I mean look at you! You look like a totally new person. Well aside from your hair, just as ginger as always,” a short laugh escapes you as you think of his hair when you first met. A long fluffy mess, it worked when he was young but when he reached his third year of highschool, he switched to a shaggy undercut and never looked back.

“Me? Look at you! You look beautiful and so grown up! I finally got taller than you though. But this dress! It looks incredible on you,” Shoyo flatters you and your cheeks heat up as you push his arm. You would be lying if you said you hadn't picked it out with him in mind. You purposefully chose one you thought he would like, and the sweet purple mini that adorned your body seemed to do the trick. Shoyo and yourself had been eyeing each other the whole night and the tension between your stares was thick enough to cut, but somehow the rest of the team stayed completely oblivious. His eyes were blazing and you decided in that moment that you would tell him how you felt by tomorrow.

It didn't take much convincing for him to agree on spending the night at your apartment. In fact he was eager to leave the second you suggested it. You both went home slightly more than tipsy, kissing and messy, and you both clambered off to your bedroom the second the door was unlocked.

You awoke hours later in bed next to a sleeping Shoyo who wore nothing but a pair of boxers at this moment. You watched him breathe, his tanned back rose and fell calmly, freckled from all the hours he spent in the sun. Even with the events that happened only a few hours prior, your anxiety spiked the same way it did when you first saw him in that room. What if he woke up and didn’t remember anything? What if he planned on going back to Brazil and you were just a distraction during his days off? You decided you didn't care when his eyes fluttered awake and over to your form, glancing down enough to see you in just his white tee from the night before. “Hi,” he whispered, eyes closing again and smiling. You laugh softly and whisper back, “Hey,” while smiling as well. You thought about what you were going to say until he breaks the silence again. “Should we… talk about all this. Or are we just gonna go back to how things were and keep this between us?” You think you saw a glimmer of sadness flash in his eyes when he said that last part.

“I’ve liked you since highschool,” you admit with one hand holding his face. There was no going back now, “I was so excited you were coming back. You know I picked that dress out just for you. I figured you would like it,” you giggle slightly embarrassed. You sigh, “I don’t want to be just friends anymore Shoyo. I missed you so much when you went away I can’t take it if you leave again.” Your confession was sudden but you figured the worst outcome was rejection, but even then the pain would have been dulled after your bliss from last night. Your hands begin to shake and you retract them to yourself.

“____…” Shoyo trailed off. Once again your name caused a ripple of silence to come through your mind, but your heart began to beat harder in your chest as you prepared to hear the worst.

“Please don’t feel pressured to say something it’s really okay if you don’t feel the same way-” You were cut off suddenly by his lips smashing against yours. Your hands went to his hair as his found a spot on your waist. You groaned into the kiss a little as he went to pull away. His bare chest was now leaned against your body and he held his weight with his arms at your sides. The eye contact you shared was intense. “Do you remember when we first met? You had just switched schools after moving and you needed help finding your classroom. You had that silly haircut that you always hated but I secretly thought was pretty cute.” You looked down, flushed. He continued, “We were only second years, but since then I always knew you were what I wanted. I never could see the girls in Brazil the way I saw you. You were just.. I don't know. Magnetic? Even when you got homesick and missed your old school. You kept lying and saying you were okay but I could see right through you. It upset me seeing you upset. And now we’re here, laying together, and you're telling me the feelings I felt for years are actually reciprocated.” He laughs after that last bit, slightly embarrassed. You kept quiet, not sure what to say. Good thing he always knew what you needed. “_____, can I take you on a date tomorrow? I know we've sort of fucked up the order of this stuff, but I’d love to catch up from these past two years.” He asks while rolling back onto his side of your bed, still looking at you. You snuggled closer to him, “I’d love that.” He wrapped his arms around you and neither of you made an effort to move. He notices a reddish mark under your jawline and smirks, he must've put it there in his haze last night. “So… about this dress…” he teased as you groaned and put your head into his chest, you knew you should've left that bit out.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x gn!reader #hinata x reader #hinata fluff #hinata shoyo #raz.writes #Spotify

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aquamarine021109 · 15 days

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My dsmp headcanons 😊

Tommy: biromantic demisexual (AMAB) (he/him)

Tubbo: gay and trans guy (AFAB) (he/him)

Ranboo: gay and non-binary (AMAB) (he/they)

Wilbur: pansexual and bigender (AIAB) (he/she)

Dream: bisexual (AMAB) (he/him)

George: gay and non-binary (AFAB) (he/she/they)

Sapnap: bisexual and ambiamorous (AMAB) (he/him)

Karl: homoromantic greysexual and ambiamorous trans guy (AFAB)(he/him)

Quackity: bisexual and ambiamorous (AMAB) (he/him)

BBH: gay (AMAB) (he/him)

Skeppy: gay (AMAB) (he/him)

Antfrost: gay (AMAB) (he/him)

Sam: bisexual & prefers men (AMAB) (he/him)

Ponk: gay (AMAB) (he/him)

Techno: aromantic asexual (AMAB) (he/him)

Dadza: straight ally (AMAB) (he/him)

Jack: bisexual trans guy and a cyborg (he was created by niki as a 'female' robot but transition to male) (he/him)

Niki: bisexual (AFAB) (she/her)

Foolish: bisexual (AMAB) (he/him)

Purpled: unlabeled and agender, also an alien (AMAB) (he/him)

Callahan: Unlabeled and knows sign language (A?AB) (any pronouns)

Fundy: gay and trans guy (AFAB) (he/him)

Puffy: lesbian (AFAB) (she/her)

Eret: bisexual and genderfluid/genderqueer (AMAB) (any pronouns except it/its)

Aimsey: lesbian (any pronouns)

Eryn: gay and unlabeled, also part demon (AMAB) (doesn't care what pronouns you use for them)

Schlatt: gay (AMAB) (he/him) (I also headcanon him to be c!tubbo's dad)

Tina: unlabeled (AFAB) (she/her)

Boomer: gay (AMAB) (he/him)

Punz: gay and non-binary (he/they)

Alyssa: pan or bi (she/her)

Drista: I have no idea if irl her is fine with headcanons, so im not going to put anything.

Mexican dream: straight ally (AMAB) (he/him)

Girl dream: bisexual and trans woman (AMAB) (she/her)

Conner: I've heard he doesn't like cosplays of him, so he probably doesn't like people headcanoning his character.

Hbomb: gay (AMAB) (he/him)

Hannah: bi or pan (AFAB) (she/her)

Charlie: Unlabeled (A?AB) (he/him) (he's a slime so I dont know what his AGAB would be.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Extra headcanons to give the characters more depth.

SBI is canon: wilbur came out as pansexual to tommy and techno in the pogtopia arc, wilbur came out to phil via letters during the pogtopia arc. wilbur came out as bigender after he was revived (to everyone on the smp because he wanted people to use the correct pronouns for her.) tommy came out originally to phil, wilbur, and techno as bisexual before the dsmp but later figured out he was a biromantic demisexual when he first joined dsmp (and of course told phil, techno, wilbur, and tubbo). techno casually came out as aroace to phil, tommy, and wilbur, when they were all sat around at the diner table before they joined dsmp. Also of course everyone was accepting. Wilbur and tommy have wings, but tommy lost his during exile because dream cut them off so he couldn't run away (im sorry for the angst but oh well) and wilbur never lost his. (And the reason you cant see wilbur's wings in my fanart of him of a long time ago is because one: im lazy and its hard to draw wings, and two: he can retract his wings in his back)

Jack is a robot/cyborg: I personally like the idea of jack being a cyborg/robot, probably because im a fnaf fan, I also like to think that niki made him and thats why they were so close (before the smp he came out as trans to niki and she supported him of course) I also like the idea that he looked really human but because of his canon deaths his skin was damaged so you could see the robotic side of him, Also if you cant remember his first canon death was by wilbur, he was burned to death by him and I like to think the fire damaged the skin on his arm and thats how everyone found out he was a cyborg, his second canon death was by tommy on accident, tommy pushed jack in the lava in the nether and from that, thats why you can see his right side all robotic like because the lava burned his skin off. He also came out as bisexual to niki before the smp. (Also can people stop sleeping on jacks character because he is literally one of the coolest characters.) Also his third canon death was by techno, he and techno were having a dual during doomsday, and because of that he lost his right eye and had to tell niki to make another one, of which looked really robotic because she didn't have the resources to make a human looking eye. Jack also went to hell and had to complete different challenges to be revived which is canon btw. (And sense he didn't get revived by the revive book, I dont think he would have a white streak in his hair, and i know that jack doesn't have hair but you can still dye it, take irl billzo for example)

Tubbo's related to schlatt: I like to think that schlatt is c!tubbo's biological dad because both of them are ram/goats, and that schlatt thought he was straight, (thats why tubbo is schlatt's son even tho I headcanon schlatt to be gay) schlatt was also homophobic and transphobic and thats why tubbo when he was 15 he ran away from home (because he told schlatt he was gay and trans but schlatt didn't except him, tho later on schlatt was more accepting of him and actually used the right pronouns and stuff) later on phil found tubbo in a box and basically adopted him, also something cute I'd like to add to the clingyduo headcanon is that tubbo before he met tommy wore a green handkerchief while tommy wore a red handkerchief but when they met and became friends they switched their handkerchiefs so even when their far away from each other they would still remember each other😊.

Lazer, vikk, corpse, pokimane, lilnas x, ninja, ksi and Michaelmcchill will be excluded from this because they logged on there like once. And for anyone wondering AMAB means a person that was born male; AFAB means a person that was born female; AIAB means a person that was born intersex. I chose a question mark for c!Callahan's AGAB because we basically know nothing about their character and their irl self.

Also as a reminder these are CHARACTER headcanons and NOT content creator, do NOT speculate actual people's sexualities and gender identities!!!

(Also its kinda sad to know that most of these people I dont even watch anymore, really the only ones I watch now are wilbur, dadza, techno, tommy, charlie, jack, and on rare occasions i watch the dream team, eret, tubbo, and quackity but even then I rarely watch tommy now, maybe its because im getting older? I honestly dont know why :( )

#i miss dsmp #dsmp #dream smp #dream smp headcanons #dsmp headcanon #dsmp headcanons

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demoneyecandy · 1 year

Text

When the Rain Washes You Clean, You'll Know - Part 2

Continuation of this fic

WC: 1.9k Relationship: Satan x Reader, Satan x MC AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and some gendered terms for reader Warning: Explicit, Minor Hurt/Comfort

Satan knew he would suffer for his antics later, but for now he was going to enjoy indulging in some good old-fashioned carnal sin with his new lover and giving his oldest brother an aneurysm. He was just glad she thought it was as funny as he did and was totally willing to roll with it.

They had settled on a pose where the blanket was covering her chest, her head turned to the side to display the many, many bruises littering her neck, and her hair fanned out on the pillow behind her like a halo. Her eyes were closed and her mouth just slightly parted, as though she had passed out after their encounter. To be fair, that wasn’t so far from the truth - she hadn’t felt this relaxed in ages. It was like his mouth had somehow removed all of the stress from her body. Satan was sure to save that image to his DDD for later. He was fairly certain they were together now, and he wanted nothing more than to have a souvenir of their first night together.

Maybe he’d even make it his screensaver.

The second he’d sent the picture to Lucifer, his DDD started ringing. Perfect, just the reaction he wanted. He could almost feel Lucifer’s anger flowing all the way from his study. He made sure to triple check that the door to M/C’s room was locked, and grabbed both his and his partner’s DDDs to mute and shove in her bedside drawer.

Suck it, Lucifer

Content, he settled back in to his position as the big spoon to M/C’s little spoon. When she felt his skin on hers, she sighed and relaxed back into his chest. They laid there for what felt like ages, just listening to each other’s breathing and appreciating the closeness after ages of letting their feelings go unsaid.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, gently stroking her hips with his thumbs.

“Better than I’ve felt in a long time. Thank you”. She turned in his arms to face him, placing one hand on his chest and using one to cup his face gently, bringing him in for a tender kiss.

As the kiss turned hungry, the human removed her hand from his face to trace down his body. She took a brief detour to play with his nipple. He sighed, and she made a mental note of his sensitivity for another time. Continuing downwards, she gently teased the V of his hips that she’d so admired earlier in the night. Tracing the outline with her nails, she drew small red lines and her demon seemed to melt into her. Her hand continued even further, grasping his neglected erection. The head was already leaking an impressive amount of precum, and it made her weirdly proud that he had gotten this hard from eating her out and stayed this hard just being near her, like her body was just that irresistible to him.

As the human’s grip got tighter and her strokes sped up, the demon was coming undone beside her after being denied for so long. It took all of his self-control to pull away from her mouth, guiding her to his neck.

“Mark me up, please. Bite me”.

How could she deny him when he asked so nicely? M/C did her best to oblige, kissing and licking and worrying red and purple marks all up and down the column of his throat. As she marked him, she kept steady with her pace on his cock. From the way his breath was quickening, she knew he was close.

“Did you still want to cum while you’re fucking me?”

“Yes… please… need you” the fourth-born wasn’t holding back, his moans filling her bedroom. He whined softly when she removed her hands from him and tried his best to get his breathing under control and come back from the brink. M/C wasted no time, getting up to pull a box out from under her bed.

“Would you mind wearing a condom? I was paying enough attention in biology class last semester to know you can get humans pregnant, and I’m not quite ready for that”.

“Of course” Satan’s heart quickened at the last bit of her request – not quite ready. Was he into that? He didn’t think he was into that. Well, that was something to examine later, and not when his lover was crawling across the bed to where he laid.

Handing him a condom, she watched with rapt attention as he removed the wrapper and rolled it down his length. Though she was plenty relaxed from her earlier orgasm, she really didn’t want to deal with microtears down there, so she passed him a bottle of lube as well. He eagerly popped the cap and stroked himself, more than happy to do anything that would make it easier to be inside of her asap.

“How do you want me?” she asked, and he didn’t hesitate to ask her to lay down on her back. He had plenty of fantasies where one or both of them was twisted up like a pretzel, but he needed to see her face when he pushed inside of her for the first time.

As she settled into a comfortable position, he waited with a barely contained excitement.

“You’re practically vibrating, I didn’t think you’d be this excited to get laid” she laughed.

“It’s not that I’m getting laid, it’s that it’s you I’m with. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this, M/C”. His voice was kind, and he stared at her with so much adoration it almost made her uncomfortable – she still wasn’t used to having someone’s undivided attention like this. It was intense, but she wanted more.

Leaning over her, he kissed her cheek and then sat back on his knees. The human spread her legs for him, eager to feel the man’s thick length inside of her.

“I hope you know I’m probably not going to last very long, you’re very good at teasing”. She laughed a little, loving the idea that she’d gotten one of the Lords of Hell this worked up with a handjob. It made her feel powerful, and all of her earlier sadness had long since disappeared. There was only her and Satan. Her smart, articulate, weirdly shredded prankster of a …boyfriend? Lover? Partner? They could sort that out later but she was certain that this was not a one-time thing. She had gotten very good at reading him in their time together, and she saw in his eyes that this meant something to him.

“You can make it up to me next time”.

“Bet on it”. Satan grasped his length to line it up with her hole. After looking up for some kind of go-ahead, and receiving a nod, he slowly began to push into her. He watched her face contort in pleasure as she felt the pleasant stretch of his cock, feeling her body pushed to its limit in the best way. M/C couldn’t help but moan at the sensation.

“Satan, you feel so good inside of me. Put it all in, I can take it – fuck me”. It took all of Satan’s self-control to not just slam inside of her in one thrust, but he wanted to savor this moment. That, and M/C had a habit of biting off more than she could chew, and he wanted this to be a good memory for both of them.

He continued at his steady pace, finally bottoming out. The human was overwhelmed, able to feel nothing but his dick so deep inside of her she felt like she might break, but she loved it. The fullness, the growing knot in her stomach, she couldn’t imagine how good it would feel when he started moving.

“Please” she whined out, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him down to kiss her. He was more than happy to oblige. His thrusts were hard but slow to start, hitting the spot that made her nerves light up. As he got lost in the kiss, his thrusts got harder and faster, until M/C was holding onto him for dear life. Both of them were beyond being able to focus on anything besides what they were feeling, breaking their kiss and letting loose every sound they’d been holding back. Moans and gasps filled the room alongside the wet slapping sound of Satan driving his cock into her as hard as he thought her body could take.

“I love you, please tell me I can cum, please” Satan let the admission slip but he was beyond caring. He was imagining the condom wasn’t there, and that he was going to fill her to the brim with his seed. He wanted to see it dripping out of her, hear her disappointed whines as she tried to keep it all in but just couldn’t. He needed to claim her, to watch her body grow and change to birth his child. To show everyone she was his and he was worthy of her, able to give her anything and everything she wanted, including children.

Well fuck. He thought. I guess that is a thing for me.

M/C was just as lost as he was – “I love you too, so much, please cum for me, make me yours”.

He could swear he felt his heart explode in his chest.

“I’m yours, Satan, please, I need you”.

That was it for him. The demon thrust inside of her one last time, as deep as he could, filling the condom and wishing he was filling her. He moved a hand down between them, rubbing her clit until she came as well, screaming his name into his ear.

The two of them held each other as they came down, gently soothing each other with praises and further declarations of love.

Eventually, Satan got up to throw away the condom and to get a washcloth to clean the two of them up. Once they were clean and the bed was covered in new sheets, they curled up together and slowly drifted to sleep in each other’s arms. No words were necessary – they could all wait until tomorrow. For now they just wanted to be together.

Very late at night, or early in the morning depending on your perspective, Satan awoke briefly from the best rest he’d had in decades. Flipping over, he opened the bedside drawer to make sure his alarm was set so they wouldn’t miss breakfast. Unlocking his DDD, he was confronted with notifications showing 113 missed texts and 57 missed calls, mostly from Lucifer but a few from Mammon and Asmodeus. They hadn’t exactly been quiet so he wasn’t particularly surprised. What brought a smile to his face though, was the preview of the last text he’d received from Lucifer.

Lucifer: I hope you know you’ll be spending the better part of this week hanging upside down in the foyer. Maybe I’ll give Mammon a bat so he can treat you like a pinata.

He turned to look at the human in bed next to him. Her face was soft, relaxed. He could see glimpses of his handiwork from under her messy hair. He gently brushed some of it away from her face, and he received a gentle sigh in return. Turning his focus back to his DDD, he sent one last text before he would go back to holding his love in his strong arms – the sound of the ongoing storm lulling him to sleep.

Satan: Totally worth it

#Bee's writing #obey me satan #obey me smut #obey me nsft #obey me satan smut

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modelbus · 1 year

Note

o3o May I request c!Tommy x protective!reader who uses she/they pronouns? (Platonic, please!)

Reader arrives at the same time as Eryn and finds out how badly Tommy has been treated for the past few years, decides that she's going to make sure he doesn't have to go through that again. - 🍜

My first C!Tommy writing! You'll have to tell me if it's horrible and if I should give up on writing C!Tommy :D I did some digging on the timeline and Eryn joined before Dream's escape, so keep that in mind.

Pairing: C!Tommy x She/They!Reader (platonic)

Just a Kid

Most people told you to leave Tommy alone.

You had seen him around a few times, building random towers and collecting materials. He never seemed very happy about whatever he was doing though.

Before joining, you had only heard rumors about everyone. Technoblade, the ruthless warrior. Philza, the man who survived hardcore and earned wings. Tommyinnit, the kid who was so full of energy that it was infectious. If those rumors were true, then Tommy had changed. Gone was a kid full of energy, replaced by an empty shell of a person.

In a way, it was scarier than anything you've ever seen. What makes a person look like that? He would check over his shoulder, a white-knuckled grip on his sword. Always gripping a sword. His clothes were constantly dirty, and his eyes were practically gray. Under his eyes were eyebags that were miles deep, a dark purple against his pale skin tone.

"What happened to Tommy?" You decide to ask Ranboo. Although Ranboo didn't seem to remember much, he was always willing to help.

"Tommy? He's... he's changed. I think. There was this stuff with Dream? Sorry, I- you might want to ask someone else."

Dream. That was a name you knew hardly anything about. The very owner of the server, missing from it. Someone had told you that he was in prison, but that didn't make sense. How did the owner of the server end up in jail?

Eret was the next person you ask. He seemed pretty levelheaded, so he had to have some answers.

"What happened before I joined? With Tommy and Dream and all that?"

He pauses in his building to turn his head towards you. His glasses are too dark for you to see past, but you assume he's looking at you.

"It's a long story. Tommy and Wilbur tried to create a nation called L'manberg and Dream didn't like that. There was a war. Tommy ended up losing in a duel, losing the war. But Dream still gave L'manberg their freedom. There was an election, Wilbur and Tommy lost which turned L'manberg into Manberg. There was another war."

"A lot of war." You huff.

Eret smiles. "There is. Tommy lost a cow and started a war somewhere in there I think. But he didn't lose the war against Manberg. Instead, Tubbo became president. Tommy got exiled. Nobody really knows what happened to him, but he came back... different. Changed."

"Nobody?" You push. That didn't seem right.

"Nobody apart from Dream and Ghostbur. But Ghostbur is long dead, and Dream's in prison. Anyways, there was a war in which L'manberg was destroyed. Completely. They tried to rebuild it a little. Wilbur died and got revived, it's... it's a long story. Complicated. But Tommy died too and got revived after getting stuck in the prison."

"Holy shit." You wouldn't want to get stuck in that prison. Just looking at it was scary enough.

"Kid's been through a lot. Lost a lot. Seen a lot. We all have."

"Like him?"

Eret's look turns more thoughtful. "Not like him. Not as much as he has."

Right then. It was decided. Nobody was going to hurt Tommy ever again. Grief and loss were something you were familiar with, but he was just a kid. A kid with a haunted look in his eyes, an exile nobody knew anything about.

"Thank you."

"Of course. I'm making a history museum, after all." As you leave, you can hear him talking to himself. "She's digging up skeletons meant to be buried."

If skeletons were meant to be buried, then why were two revived people walking around on the server? You might not know much but messing with life and death sure couldn't be good. If you were here, you might as well try your best and bring some peace to the server.

So, you go against the advice given to you. You talk to Tommy.

“Hey! Tommy, right? What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t trust you, but he has no reason to. With a suspicious look he angles himself away from you but still responds. That’s something, right?

“Getting supplies.”

“I can help! What are we gathering?”

“I don’t need help.”

“I didn’t say you needed anyones help. I’m just offering.” Your grin never wavers. “Bored and willing to help out.”

“…wood.” He reluctantly answers. “To rebuild my house. Oak wood.”

“Great!” You grab out your netherite axe, only to spin it around and offer Tommy the handle. His axe was iron and you had a diamond one you could use. “Here, I’ll use my spare diamond one.”

His face twists, and you realize your mistake. The gift could be seen as pity. Sure, you might be becoming protective over Tommy but it wasn’t out of pity.

“It’ll be faster.” You add on.

He takes it slowly, but takes it nonetheless. Progress.

Your next move is to talk to Jack Manifold. The guy seemed a little odd but not too bad. No matter what your personal opinion of him was though, you had seen the billboard. The hotel. Big Manifold’s Hotel sign was very obviously painted over Big Innit’s Hotel.

“Speak of the devil! There they are!” Jack calls out to you, waving. He was talking with Niki, another member you need to talk to. Two bats with one arrow, right?

“Jack! Niki!” You exclaim. “Just the people I was looking for!”

“What can we help you with?” Jack asks, smiling. Unlike Eret his glasses were see-through.

“I was actually wondering about your hotel. It used to be Tommy’s, right?”

“Oh, yeah. But then he died so it went to me.” He shrugs, seeming unconcerned by it. There’s just one little flaw in his logic.

“But Tommy’s alive.”

“Listen, you joined at a really nice time. Tommy’s chilled out and it’s better this way. Just leave things be.” Niki suggests.

“He’s chilled out because he fucking died! He’s a kid!” You exclaim.

“You don’t get it, he terrorized the server! It’s better off this way. He deserved everything that happened to him.”

You stare at Niki, jaw dropped. She couldn’t be serious, could she?

“You’re- maybe I’m wrong here, but he’s been through multiple wars. He’s died. He’s seen his country blown apart. He was exiled. And he’s still a kid. You’re telling me he deserved all that?”

“He brought it upon himself.” Niki answers.

“Heh, maybe we should just calm down?” Jack suggests.

“I’m calm.” You break eye contact with Niki to look between the duo. “Honestly, the hotel is none of my business. I just wanted to warn you both to leave Tommy alone. You might be okay with what’s been going on, but I’m not. In my books you’re both just as bad as Dream.”

Rumors on the server often turned out to be correct, as you were quickly learning. But now they've been dealt with. You weren't going to let anything else happen to Tommy even if it took all three of your lives, you swear by it.

There was one last person you had to threaten, but he happened to be unreachable. The very man who perhaps hurt Tommy the most. Dream.

As it turns out, Pandora was pretty good at keeping people both in and out. No matter how many times you begged Sam, he never let you in. Always claiming it was a liability, especially after how Tommy got stuck in there, which led to a whole new conversation.

"How the fuck do you lock a child in with a monster? He died, didn't he?" You ask, already furious at Sam's constant denial of letting you visit Dream.

"It was an accident. He signed a waiver-" "HE DIED! Aren't you meant to protect people? Isn't that what being the Warden is all about?"

Sam's expression crumples, and you suddenly realize you might be yelling at the wrong person here. So far you seemed to be the only one actively helping Tommy, but that didn't mean he was alone. Maybe there were people still in his corner, people who just fucked up a little. (or, in this case, a lot)

"Threaten Dream for me, would you?" You ask, backing off. "I think we can both agree that we'd kill him if he ever hurt Tommy again."

"Yeah." Sam nods. "That I can do."

With a smile, you set off a friend richer.

Tommy did still have people out there who cared for him, he just didn't know it. Maybe one day he'd see that, but only after a shit ton of healing.

For now, all you could do was give him a safe place and get him in some goddamn therapy.

#c!tommy #dsmp #mcyt #tommyinnit mcyt #tommyinnit #tommyinit dsmp #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #dsmp tommy #dsmp imagine #dream smp #c!tommyinnit

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