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obaewankenobis · 4 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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pupkashi · 9 months

Text

boyfriend!nanami headcanons

a/n: hi friends! thank u so much for the request i hope you guys like these :3 lmk what u think !! hoping it isn’t too ooc for him :(

wordcount: 1,228

masterlist

so we all agree nanami is the perfect, romantic, 10/10 man right? okay cool!

he is the best boyfriend is the most cliche amazing way possible

he totally asks you out with roses and takes you to a nice dinner to a fancier restaurant after a couple dates or if you aren’t rlly into that he’ll cook dinner for the two of you in his house <3

he’s such a gentleman !!!!! he is checking up on you when you tell him you’re nervous for something, giving you the best advice he can, reminding you that you’re 100% prepared for everything, and if you aren’t then he’s there to comfort you!

buys you ‘just because’ flowers ALL THE TIME !

he’s coming back from work / a mission? he’s buying you flowers! went to the convenience store for something? he’s stopping by to get flowers! saw your old bouquet looking a bit droopy? no worries, there’s a new one on its way to you now :)

always getting u anything you want ever, it’s a problem actually

“i kinda want this water bottle but i don’t really need it” you mumble, mainly to yourself, kento’s ears are perking up, asking you to show him

two days later he’s handing you the bottle, a smile on his face when you light up and thank him for it

going shopping with him is DANGEROUS! he is buying you everything you try on and like and MORE !

“this is so cut- nevermind!” you chuckle, setting the handbag down when you see the outrageous price tag, nanami is quirking his brow, “just get it darling, price isn’t an issue”

he’s always adding any little gifts you give him to his lavish fancy apartment, splashes of color all over his beige themed apartment, if you aren’t there his eyes will sometimes wander to the gifts, smiling to himself and shooting you a message, ‘i miss you, call me when you’re free <3’

he so pampers you all the time :( especially when you’re feeling a bit more stressed wether it’s your job or finals, he’s there reminding you to eat and drink water, making you take breaks or short little naps when you have time to spare

gives you massages and cuddles you to sleep, reading to you until your breathing is even or turning the tv off when you doze off on the couch accidentally

majority of the time will cook dinner for you, unless he’s absolutely exhausted then he’ll order something in,,, never makes you cook if you don’t wanna !!!!

when you guys move in together he does as much as he can when it comes to chores, always making sure he’s pulling his weight and then some so you aren’t stressed about it <333

loves days when you’re both deep cleaning and you have your music blasting through the apartment, the two of you dancing along to the music, a huge smile on your face when you hear him humming along

drives you around everywhere you want ! you won’t be touching a steering wheel unless you want to or it’s absolutely necessary,, he wants you to be his passenger prince / princess

fuels any hobbies you have! buys you any supplies you want / need without hesitation,, you need more yarn? he’ll buy you as much as you want. you want more books? he’ll buy you the whole series!

is SO thoughtful when it comes to gifts, he’ll think about what to get you months in advance and never once gets you anything tacky or that you don’t like (because he actually listens and pays attention to what you like)

he’s an amazing listener !!!! boyfriend!nanami is always hooked on your every word, keeping up with any gossip you tell him or rants you go on

amazing cuddler. wraps you in his arms and pulls you into his warm body, tight enough grip that makes you feel secure but to where you can wiggle out at anytime you want (he never wants to make u feel trapped </3)

will be vulnerable with you 10000% he’s not afraid of crying infront of you and sharing his emotions!

he’s very mature when it comes to arguments, letting you cool down if you need it and talking through what upset you or him and figuring out how to best resolve the problem

will never go to bed mad, he always makes sure the issue is solved as soon as possible because he doesn’t want you to be stressed or upset longer than you need to :(

remembers every little thing he can !!! any off hand comments you make, the jokes you tell, the dates you’ve been on, you name it and he’s recalling it to you exactly how it went

y’all have SO MANY inside jokes it’s terrible to your friends, the two of you looking at each other with a smile when someone says the word ‘can’ and they’re so confused

“it’s an inside joke, it would take too long to explain” you say, trying to change the subject as you bite back laughter

he is so playful and unserious with you, anyone around you absolutely does not believe it when you tell them kento knows the Cupid shuffle, but you know because you saw it with your own eyes

will make amazing jokes that have you wheezing in the floor all the time, describing things with much too sophisticated words that make it all so much funnier

he’s very protective of you

will always make sure you’re safe no matter what happens ever, it’s always his top priority

especially when he’s back in the Jujutsu line of work, he’s always checking in on you and making sure nothing bad has happened to you

when you’re out with friends he’ll occasionally message you, making sure you’re still doing good, never upset if you come home late as long as you let him know so he doesn’t worry his pretty head :(

the times you do forget he’s only minorly upset, letting it go easily because all that really matters is that you’re okay and you had a fun time :]

absolutely gives you ‘scary dog privelage’ !!!! you can go on late night walks all the time now with nanami by your side! no one even dared to try anything with the tall, beefy man walking in stride with you, muscles straining against his plain white t shirt as he stretches a bit

his gaze alone is enough to stop people from coming up and flirting with you at bars or any parties you might attend

his intimidating stare + his arms crossed across his chest is an insanely attractive sight for you, increasingly terrifying for those on the receiving end of it

doesn’t get jealous much, he trusts you with all his heart and more, and you show him how much you love him all the time

on the rare occasion he does get jealous, he’ll ask for some reassurance, his mind easing at your genuine words <33

he also will 100% make out with you until you’re breathless and leave marks where only he can see

overall nanami is just the most amazing caring boyfriend that will spoil you rotten and give you all the love he has to offer because it’s what you deserve <3

#kento nanami imagine #nanami kento x reader fluff #nanami kento headcanons #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami fluff #nanami kento fanfic #nanami kento imagine #kento nanami drabble #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento drabble #boyfriend!nanami kento

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jiminrings · 2 years

Text

souvenir

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: shouldn’t this be the part where you tell him not to stay out too late?

alternatively, yoongi thinks you hate him because you don’t coddle him after a fight.

[ So Much Pining but they’re already in a relationship lol, some angst from a lil fight, yoongi likes being chased but u don’t indulge him this time, 10/10 wholesome ]

notes: a little something as i come back to writing <3 this is a new fic universe altogether and may be a slice of life series :O

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

Yoongi relishes in being difficult.

He’s difficult in the way that he’s stubborn for whatever it is, no matter how low he could stoop. It’s definitely a working progress, but your husband just still hasn’t shaken the urge to always have the last say.

It wasn’t a deep control thing, honestly — Yoongi just really loves pushing your buttons.

If Yoongi could find a route to piss you off, he’d take a million little detours in the process just for you to take the cake by the end of it. When you present to him a simple yes or no question, he’d find a way to shift the topic altogether for your conversation to go absolutely nowhere.

He’s annoying, there’s really no doubt about it. It was a learning curve at first because seeing your then-boyfriend (now your husband) become snarky at you for surprisingly no reason at all wasn’t exactly the best feeling. All it took was a simple call to Jin, Yoongi’s closest friend, to make you realize that he was just being playful. Your husband being a brat to you, simply put into words, is his love language.

It’s the tiny accumulative moments where he purposely irritates you that in hindsight, it’s become oddly endearing.

When you pick where to order take-out because Yoongi keeps saying whatever, he whines to no end once the food arrives because apparently, it’s not what he had in mind. You used to be so pissed about it that you’ll order what he wants, but nowadays, you just tell him to suck it up and put more food on his plate.

When you do all the laundry in one go (no, the colors don’t bleed together) and Yoongi insists that you do separate batches for each color that he could enumerate, you would try and appease him by pretending to separate each one. Now, all that Yoongi gets is a high-pitched sarcastic compliment for knowing all his colors.

Whatever Yoongi purposely gave you to incite a reaction, it all melted into your understanding that this was just him. You’re no longer affected by the tiny little things because weirdly enough, they no longer serve its purpose of annoying you.

It’s just like taking care of Ginger, the spoiled little family cat you grew to take care of back in your childhood home. When she was still a kitten, she’d purposely go up your shelves, look at you in the eye before dropping an item, and you’re leaping after the orange devil to reprimand her. When she became an adult, she still had the same annoying tendencies, and yet you evolved enough not to even bat an eye when she does it now.

Yoongi being annoying to you now isn’t the same thing of him being annoying to you back then. What you used to hate, you now tolerate. What used to piss you off, now makes you endeared. When your husband pushes your buttons now, you’re reminded of how much more mischievous he used to be and the memories that came with it.

This is now your peak — there’s really nothing Yoongi could do that make you fazed anymore.

In a great bout of karma, this is Yoongi’s trough.

You barely give him an adverse reaction nowadays and that scares him right to his core because you used to be so enthusiastic over him. There’d be days where he picks fights intentionally and you’d spend the whole night trying to make it up to him, even if he necessarily wasn’t in the right.

Yoongi thinks that he’s witnessing himself being old news right in front of you and it scares him.

You’re more well-versed when it comes to this. You’re the more attentive, more vocal lover between the two of you. You’re the one who can read minds and interpret actions. You’re the one who tends to be more confrontational and he’s the passive one. You’re the one who makes sure that a night wouldn’t pass without the two of you making up.

Yoongi, who thought this was the best thing he’s ever thought of until twenty minutes ago, decides to rekindle your romance by picking a fight with you.

Twenty minutes later, he’s never regretted a decision more in his life.

“I’m going out.”

He announces as the last resort, head pounding because the fight became bigger than necessary. It’s 9 in the evening and he isn’t even dressed to be going out, his matching pajamas with you too soft and too worn to be even seen wearing while driving in the comfort of his own car.

Yoongi feels tears pricking in his eyes because clearly you laid onto him just as much as he made digs at you tonight, but what’s even more hurtful is that looking at you now, you don’t even look as startled as he is.

Maybe it’s just his mind. His silly, smooth, little mind that thinks the fight was bigger than it actually was. It was just a tiny argument about him baselessly accusing you of not putting in any effort that went off-topic for a brief second. In reality, it really was just a casual fight that most married couples have on a rare weekend but to Yoongi, it was explosive.

It was far more hurtful than he anticipated because in his eyes now, you don’t love him that much anymore.

“Okay. Go ahead,” you mumble for him to hear, putting away leftovers like any other night. You meticulously wrap the plates with cling wrap, your back turned to him when you mutter. “I hope the door hits your ass on the way out.”

“O-oh?” Yoongi backtracks when he hears your go-ahead, literally shell-shocked to see that you’re not stopping him. He wipes away his tears before you turn your neutral gaze back to him, swallowing the lump on his throat. “I’m going now. To get some air.”

“Okay, Yoongi.”

He’s done this before. There’s been fights where you tell him not to walk out on you and he complies. There’s also been fights where he walks out anyways, but you’d always tell him I love you and not to stay out too late.

He’s attempting the second option because clearly, you’re not pleading for him to talk this out and later on could the two of you get some air together.

“I’m really, really going now.”

He looks at you with shaky eyes, clearly pleading for you to indulge him by making him stay.

You see right through him. You see right through your husband and in any other day would you just laugh this off, but tonight isn’t working for you. You were tired from work, Yoongi picked a fight with you for no reason, and you neither have the energy to tolerate nor chase him.

Every now and then, you should stop coddling Yoongi and give him exactly what he claims to want.

“Okay. Bye.”

You leave no room for any more replies, sauntering over the stairs without looking back.

Yoongi doesn’t want to look like a coward for not following through what he said so he audibly opens the door with the creak being heard all the way up the stairs. He’s not even a fourth out of the door but his bottom lip already blubbers, legs trembling from another type of chill that his pajamas can’t protect him from.

Shouldn’t this be the part where you tell him not to stay out too late?

( ♡ )

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday, Yoongi’s at a friend’s club wearing his sleeping pajamas on, drinking Pocari Sweat because crying on the way here really dehydrated him.

Yoongi is not doing well.

Jin’s originally here to survey his club at a peak night, but that plan went downhill as soon as Yoongi spotted him and immediately clung to his back asking for electrolyte water.

“Call Y/N using my phone.”

Yoongi mumbles when the two of them are settled at a secluded booth, all the noise being significantly decreased but not enough for it to be unrecognizable that he’s at a club through a phone call.

“And why exactly would I do that?” Jin snorts, already having an inkling to know where this is going from having a quick run-down from your husband himself.

He’s just about to lecture him with the words he’s always been wanting to say; something along the words that Yoongi’s bratty tendencies were eventually gonna bite him in the ass hard.

Seokjin doesn’t get to do that though because a phone is thrust to his face that it almost punches him, making him faux spit into nothing and wave off his bodyguards standing at a distance from him.

“Quick. She’s probably worried sick about me!” Yoongi convinces Jin, or atleast tries to because he’s the one that needs it. You’re probably wondering where he is, right? There may be no texts in his inbox, but who’s to say that you’re telepathically texting him to ask what time he’s coming home… right?

“No she’s not,” he sing-songs. He plans to annoy his friend for about 98% the time he’s going to be here (he’s gonna send him home to you anyway before 10:30) and the other 2% for semi-sincere consoling.

Then an idea pops into Jin’s head.

“What should I say?” he suddenly and eagerly takes up Yoongi on his request, not waiting for an answer before the perfect scenario pops in his head. “Ah wait, let me be in charge of that.”

Jin’s already pressing to call you much faster to Yoongi’s expectations because he really thought that it would take more amounts of convincing to do this. The phone’s put on speaker and as soon as it rings, Yoongi feels the urge to duck. He’s steadily about to snatch his phone back but you answer your phone even faster than he could do that.

“Hi Y/N!” Seokjin beams and it makes you smile from the other end, a clue already being filled in your head where exactly your husband went to. “Whatcha doing?”

Jin makes conversation with you on Yoongi’s phone, sleazily smiling as he takes it off of speaker as soon as his friend hears your voice. Yoongi clearly takes an outrage with that but he contains it when Jin fully extends his arm out, holding him back by the face.

“Ugh, did you make popcorn? No way, not one burnt kernel? I knew it-!” Jin yelps when Yoongi bites his palm, quickly standing up from his seat in the booth so Yoongi couldn’t catch up with him. “I told you- I told you that brand’s way better!”

“She’s not asking why you’re using my phone?” Yoongi whisper-yells as he circles around Seokjin, hands anxiously attempting to grab his phone back. “She’s not asking about me?”

Jin hears him loud and clear but he pretends not to, only sparing a glance. “Did you use the microwave preset? Personally I recommend only popping it in for two minutes and fifteen seconds because- motherfucker!”

Yoongi pinches him by the nape quite harshly like how you’d do with a kitten and it makes Jin freeze for a brief second, stealing his phone back with the call on-going.

“Y/N!” he almost yells to the phone, the momentary silence making it sink to him that he’s finally talking to you after so long.

Read: it has only been forty minutes.

“What?” you groan into the phone, pushing your voice to be further disinterested. You’re no longer mad at him anymore — you’re just having some bit of fun at this point.

“I-I...” the words dissolve quickly on his tongue, the taste being bitter once again even when he was certain that the Pocari washed it out earlier. Yoongi says the next best thing he could that first pops up into his head, the random blurting of words being amusing even for Jin’s bodyguards.

“I uhm, I have a splinter.”

“Then take it out.”

“It hurts,” he whines at another attempt, screwing his eyes shut at the secondhand embarrassment because from the corner of his eye, one of the three bodyguards is actually clutching at his stomach from laughing.

“Have Jin do it for you then.”

“Jin and I are in the club, by the way!” he reminds you, perking up slightly now that you indirectly acknowledged where he is and who he’s with.

“Mhmm.”

Just one last pathetic attempt of skirting around and if it doesn’t work, Yoongi will immediately come home to you.

“Is the popcorn good?”

Read: it doesn’t work.

Jin steals his phone back before he could even hear your response to his dumb-witted question, getting a painful run-down from his friend instead. “You’re painful to watch, y’know that?”

He sighs disappointedly at Yoongi, rolling his eyes before pressing the phone to his ear. “So? What’s it taste like? It’s not really oily, I told you already. The cheese doesn’t smell obnoxious either. Because actually — exactly! It doesn’t stain your fingers!”

Yoongi… will lose it. But before he loses it completely, he gathers all his remaining sanity to continue your tradition while Jin keeps you preoccupied. He spots two things quickly and puts it into his arms with no semblance of shame, even if Jin’s bodyguards saw him technically shoplifting. Yoongi thinks it doesn’t count as such because Jin already knows about the tradition between the two of you, and as predicted, his friend just waves him off in acknowledgement.

It’s a tiny tradition.

Whenever one of you goes somewhere without the other, it’s a rule to bring back a souvenir. There’s no specifications to it, just whatever item you could bring back as proof that you thought about the other while you were out.

Some of the souvenirs you brought home to Yoongi: a pretty rock, a duvet cover, a liter of hand sanitizer, a designer card wallet, and a scrunchie with his name embroidered on it.

Some of the souvenirs Yoongi brought home to you: a fancy teaspoon, a hotel pillow, ten perfume testers at the same time, a remote holder, and a teddy bear with his voice as its squeezable heart.

Yoongi thinks that he doesn’t have shoplifting tendencies but in hindsight of some of the souvenirs he’s gotten you, there may be a pattern to it.

“You brought home... a shot glass.”

You look at the tiny glass, the remnants of electrolyte water still swishing around it.

“Wrong,” he sternly replies, bringing an item from behind his back that couldn’t be anymore obvious even if he tried. “I brought home a shot glass and a tiny potted plant.”

“Since when did bars have potted plants?” you mutter in disbelief, taking the miniature bonsai from him and looking at it in wonder.

“Since tonight! Jin’s, I don’t know, entrepreneurial like that. I wanted to show it to you so I brought it home.”

Your husband says it’s like the most obvious thing to do; his desire for you to know that he indeed thought about you while he was gone manifesting into bringing home one shot glass, and one tiny bonsai to prove it.

“You stole it, Yoongs.”

The amusement lilts in your voice and Yoongi catches on to it, but he just can’t seem to let it go, a little upset that you’re focused on him “stealing” it instead of the fact that he’d go through whatever lengths for you.

“Again, I brought it home because I wanted you to see it!”

“You could’ve just sent me a picture,” you giggle, setting down the pot on your side table. You peel back the covers you momentarily left, patting the spot beside you and Yoongi clearly could not have went to bed any more eager than this.

“How was I supposed to know?” he mumbles in defeat, a frown on his face. “You probably would’ve iced me out.”

“You didn’t even ask me what time I’d get home.”

Yoongi sighs and even if the moment’s already been significantly lightened with the souvenirs, it brings you a greater relief now that your husband’s choosing to say what’s exactly bothering him instead of pissing you off.

“You didn’t even chase me through the door! I didn’t even want to go!” he’s almost one step into a tantrum and you have to hold him by the arm to not get too carried away by reminiscing, rolling your eyes when you hold him closer.

“You went out because you thought I’d chase you.”

“Exactly,” he affirms, albeit a little upset now that he’s confirmed you knew all along. “Can’t you just chase after me?” Yoongi asks innocently, soft eyes staring you down.

The moment’s too tender that it makes your shoulders hunch, hand automatically moving to the side of his face to guide him into nuzzling into the crook of your neck — a move he looks forward to especially after tonight.

“I’m not always gonna chase after you, Yoongi,” you confide, lips brushing on his temple. “You’re just so damn stubborn sometimes. Like, makes-my-jaw-clench type of stubborn.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi sincerely apologizes, his face still buried to your neck with his arms clinging around your middle. “I guess I’m just so used to you making amends with me that it makes me act out on purpose.”

Yoongi faults himself at the end of the night this time, without your prompting, and you can’t deny that it makes your heart full.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

He lifts his head up to look at you directly, lips puffed into a pout with his eyes in slow blinks. “Yoongi’s very sorry.”

Maybe you spoke too soon. Maybe Yoongi’s just always gonna be slightly annoying.

“Did you just talk about yourself in third-person?” you mumble, eyes suddenly snapping open when it sinks into you.

“Isn’t it cuter that way? Is it working?” your husband heartily laughs, stretching his arms out to put around you and invade your personal space even more. “Why, do you feel it working?”

“I don’t know what to feel about it, that’s for sure,” you chuckle, the atmosphere completely lightened at this point.

“I promise I’ll try not to be difficult anymore. Won’t piss you off either.”

“That doesn’t happen overnight, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s just… mischievous. His love language was to pull stuff with you and although it keeps you on your toes more often than necessary, you wouldn’t be tired of him.

“Tell you what, promise me this instead,” you turn right when Yoongi was about to do it himself so he could bury his face to the crook of your neck again, blinking owlishly to listen at what you have to say.

“Try to chase after me too. Let me be the difficult one sometimes.”

Yoongi smiles, the switch being more than intriguing. “M’kay. That’s not as hard to promise doing.”

The concept of it makes him happy too much that it lingers there, reverting back to calling you his term of endearment for you and that’s when you know that there’s nothing left unresolved between the two of you now.

“I like that, bear. You should try picking fights with me too. It’s fun sometimes, trust me!”

“I can tell,” you hum, blindly reaching out your arm to turn off the nightlight at your side.

“Yoongi likes that.”

“Stop talking about yourself in third person.”

“I think it’s already growing on me,” Yoongi admits, tilting his head and knowing for a fact that it would take more than fifteen minutes to sleep tonight while in thought.

“Is it gonna stick?”

The groan leaves you automatically and by the lack of response, you already know your answer.

“Bear,” you hum. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna pick a fight with you tomorrow, alright?”

“M’kay! Remind me tomorrow what time you’re gonna start pissing me off, yeah?” he grins from ear to ear, not requiring a nightlight to see that your husband looks at you so fondly.

“Good night, baby,” Yoongi finally bids you, pressing a tender kiss right to your lips before tucking you with the comforter exactly how you liked it. “Loving you is my favorite part of the chase.”

#feedback pls and thank u <33 EEEEE finally got out of my writing slump omg #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi au #yoongi scenario #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi writing #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #bts yoongi imagine

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h34rtbeat · 2 months

Note

Which ever one you see fit,could even be both! When I wrote it, it was aimed to be more neutral but now I'm leaning more towards a male pov (this is the yuta ask btw)

ok i will try my best to write male pov!! pls lmk if it comes out bad!! i also tweaked the story a bit, hope u don’t mind

i love your mind pls send in an anon emoji so i can put u on my list of anons i love u

og ask: “host! Yuta who gets pressured by you while catering to go out back and get you off while his guests grow impatient and leave bad reviews to his name, thus leaving him in need of more of your visits for a proper pay. tears well in his eyes whenever you have him on his knees doing the unthinkable, dirtying his lips and the area surrounding as he quickly gets up and heads back inside the club in hopes of attracting new customers those slobbery lips made him look cuter anyways”

warnings// dom!amab!reader, sub!yuta, coercion, dub-con, non-con, anal, oral, spit, degradation, this is based on red hair yuta bc i think red is his color; yuta is referred to as ‘bunny’

Yuta is pictured to be wearing a suit with bunny ears a tail, bear with me yall.. reader is also described to be wealthy!!

nsfw under the cut!

a week ago, his boss had told him to get those reviews up. a host like himself couldn’t afford having bad reviews!

customers, patrons, randoms, all alike growing impatient as their best looking host wasn’t present to serve them.

they left bad reviews, no tips, other hosts also growing irritated with the decreased money flow. his boss, adding onto his already stressful schedule, scolding him.

it was so odd, since he was just getting paid so nicely. now, he had a boss, his coworkers, and pissy customers on him.

oh, but you came along.. and changed everything.

a cigarette and cash perked in your hand, as you slid it into his back pocket, softly smacking his ass.

“come out back with me, and i’ll double your pay.” your words, laced with seduction and nicotine, had him in a trance. his lips parted for a moment.

the air was heavy, as his eyes widened. he could only watch as you walked out. this wasn’t— what were you asking?

he counted the cash in his hands. he was getting paid badly, and he didn’t really have any customers right now.. and that much for a tip, how much you pay if he went out back with you!?

the cash astonished him, and he nodded to his boss before his bunny ears followed your frame out the door.

“what.. can i do for you, sir?” his cottontail perked perfectly where you liked it. you exhaled your cigarette, before flicking it to the ground.

“make me feel good, bunny.” your stern voice was unlike any he’d ever heard, and he was confused. he made a lot of guys feel good, and they all had different opinions of what ‘feeling good’ meant.

“can you elaborate?” he asks, big brown eyes staring at you diligently, money hungry.

you groaned. were all hosts this stupid? you gestured him over, and slipped him more cash.

he may be stupid, but he wasn’t ugly. pretty red hair too, as your calloused hands rubbed his head. you softly tugged on the headband, just admiring the handsome man.

“squat” you commanded, pointing towards the floor.

yuta gulped. he wasn’t— no, you wouldn’t- you couldn’t be asking for that, could you? but as his eyes raked across your figure, and down to the fat bulge poking through your fancy businessman suit, he knew what you meant.

“we don’t offer those services here, sir..” yuta denies, shaking his bunny headband with his red hair.

chuckling gruffly, you forced him to a squat position, face near your bulge.

“i know you need the money, bunny. so suck it.”

yuta tentatively contemplated, looking around. this is a public area, anyone could see!

“it’s empty. don’t worry, just suck my cock.” you tried easing his nerves, but it seems the bunny was too occupied with hesitation.

“ah.. this could help with my pay. there’s no customers either..” yuta thought to himself, his plastic bunny ears rubbing against your thigh.

he swallowed any shame he had left, before his slender fingers reached for your belt, unbuckling it. he gulped once more, lips slightly parted, as he unzipped your fly.

he reached for your boxers, flicking them down with his index finger. your skin was so cold, and he was so warm.

you liked this bunny boy already.

your cock slapped against his cheek, he grimaced momentarily. he breathed on it, a shaky breath. you smirked down at him, lighting another cigarette, enjoying the view.

“cmon bunny, i don’t have all night f’you to suck my cock.” you slurred out, a rough hand caressing his soft cheek.

“sorry..” he mumbled, before letting a glob of spit fall onto your cock. you were so big, it was almost unnatural.

he sucked on the base of your cock first, finding some entertainment in feeling your dick twitch in his warm mouth. his tongue dipped, tracing the veins.

you exhaled some smoke, groaning at the feeling of his tongue. he was warm, and your dick was only getting harder at the thought of fucking him.

he took you fully, and if you weren’t already big, he was gagging by now. his throat tight, as he took you, bobbing his head up and down.

he had his eyes closed, like he was enjoying it. though, tears pricked under his eyelids, threatening to spill if you were to thrust.

squatted, as his throat was fucked by you, a man he was paid well by. he felt sticky, the way his sweat clung to his body. his eyes were wide now, the pace of your hips, and the way your dick dug deep into his throat was harsh.

“fuck, bunny. you know how to suck a dick, don’t ya?” you moaned out, your abdomen hitting his nose.

yuta hated it, as his pretty tears stained his cheeks. his jaw hurt, drool spilling as his only source of breath was being smacked against your lower stomach.

soft gagging noises escaping his throat, as you fucked his throat like it was a pussy. his lips and any area was all coated in your pre cum and his spit, your cock all messy.

you tugged him back, letting him catch a breather.

“ugh— agh..!” he turns his head to the side, coughing.

“awe, does the bunnys jaw hurt?” you cooed, grabbing his chin and holding it as you stroked your cock over his lips.

“open your mouth, bunny.” and damned, if he wasn’t aroused and humiliated, he was now.

this was embarrassing— and you were using him like he was some cheap prostitute, but he’d be a liar if he said some sick part of him didn’t like it.

especially now, as he stuck out his tongue, like some hentai, waiting for your hot load of semen.

you roughly tugged him back on, his hands grasping at your thighs, you shot your load deep inside his throat, hearing him choke on it.

burying and hilting yourself perfectly so his throat was forced to take your semen, he pulled himself back.

he opened his mouth, showing how he swallowed it.

“fuck..” you panted softly, seeing the boy on his knees, you wiped his lips with your cock, coating rhem in a gloss.

“fuckin’ good bunny, here.” you gave him another load of cash, and zipped yourself up.

he looked better like that anyway. even better, after you tapped his ass, and he scurried back inside, to treat other customers.

he was cute, and he was yours now.

this was pure filth yall gn..

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hyuckbeam · 1 year

Text

at midnight with you

your boyfriend just recently got his driver's license, and boy, was he adamant to take you for a ride (with you being just as eager as him).

pairing | jisung x reader

genre | fluff, a little flirty here and there, established relationship

warnings | one kind of sexual joke (but they don't do anything, silly), the endearment ‘baby’ is used by jisung, lmk if i missed anything!

wc | 1.1k words

a/n | i impulsively made this after i learned jisung got his driver’s license already,, i just HAD to make use of this knowledge one way or another 🥹 i guess this passes as a belated birthday post for ji as well!! but aside from all that, rbs, likes, and feedback are always appreciated! thank u <33

a gasp was the only thing that would come out of your throat as you opened your front door in the middle of the night to jisung, having pulled up in front of your house’s gate with a car you’ve never seen before. had he learned how to drive already? he did tell you something along the lines of ‘i think i might try driving’ the other week, but you often passed it as a joke. i mean, he always told you he’d never drive for the sake of world peace and human kind.

you, on the other hand, were as eager as you could be to learn how to drive. fantasies of you and jisung out on a midnight car ride often plagued your mind, and the thought of making that fantasy into a reality gave you even more determination to learn. the problem was your parents didn’t exactly like the idea of it. you suppose they were always more on the traditional spectrum in terms of how they raised you, but their rejection had you sulky for an entire day. naturally, you spoke to your boyfriend about your frustrations, unintentionally slipping in the fact you wanted to go on a car ride with him.

it got him thinking. neither of you had a driver’s license… but what if he impulsively got one right now so he could fulfill that wish of yours? jisung has probably never acted on anything quicker.

he did tell you about his plans, knowing you wouldn’t really believe him on the get go. perhaps that was all for the best. he wanted this to be a surprise for you anyways.

and now here he was, parked at the front of your house with only one goal in mind — to grant your wish of a car ride with him; a spontaneous one at that.

you wonder how he knew exactly what you’ve been longing for a while now, not realizing your slip up a few weeks ago.

“baby, come on!” you snap out of your thoughts, focusing on the boy who’s now in front of you. he sported a lazy grin on his lips, making the corners of his eyes crease into tiny crescents. “i have a hoodie for you in my car too. it’s a little cold at night after all.”

the mention of him bringing you one of his hoodies already has you sold on the idea, prompting you to walk up to his car and get in the passenger’s seat.

as soon as you take your seat, jisung reaches out for your seatbelt, making sure you’re all buckled in. the close contact with your boyfriend was nothing new in your relationship, but for some reason, everything he’s been doing today has got your heart bouncing up and down.

you pat your cheeks to calm yourself down, a little habit jisung already picked up on. he knew you were enjoying this. “ji, where will we be going?” jisung swears he sees sparkles appear in your doe eyes. not to mention the pick hues that color your cheeks after you patted them earlier. you were going to be the death of him one day.

“it’s a surprise, baby.” a chuckle resounds from his chest, eyes glancing towards you for a quick moment before turning the car on and setting his sight back on the road. “you’ll just have to wait and find out, hm?”

“no fair!” you protest childishly, a few snorts managing to escape from you as you settle back into your seat.

although you’re as excited as ever for what your boyfriend has in store for you, there’s a wave of drowsiness that looms over your eyes. it was pretty late in the night, so how could anyone blame you. the sound of the car’s engine running mixed with jisung’s humming was enough to seal the deal, closing your eyes and letting sleep overtake you.

jisung peers over after noticing you were pretty still in your seat, realizing you had fallen asleep. he pulls over shortly, now rummaging through the backseat for the hoodie he brought, placing it over you before continuing the drive. it was going to take a little longer than expected to get to where he wanted, so he concluded you should just get undisturbed rest for the remainder of the ride.

you felt a slight nudge in your shoulder, eyes droopily waking up. “wake up, sleepyhead. we’re here.” jisung ruffles your head softly. his hands feel so warm and cozy you could almost fall back asleep, but you fight the urge to do so.

jisung gets out of the car first, rushing over to your side and helping you step out as well. he takes the forgotten hoodie from the car seat, helping you wear it so you wouldn’t feel cold.

it takes you a moment to realize he’s brought you to a viewpoint that overlooks the city’s nightscape, but when you do, a smile naturally appears on your features. the faint lights coming from the small buildings, the tiny cars that pass by on the streets below, and the cold air that barely seeps through the hoodie jisung lent you — this was everything you’ve wanted and more. “ji, ji! this is amazing! how did you even know this spot existed?”

“i just stumbled across this place before.” in truth, he actually spent countless nights searching up for the best spot to bring you to. was he going to admit to that? nope. was it worth every wink of sleep? of course it was because it was for you.

a couple of moments pass in silence, the both of you simply soaking in the breathtaking view. “you know, people actually come here to do something particular.” your boyfriend brings up, a small glint in his eyes as he peers down at you.

you don’t know what it is, but your face automatically heats up from the way he’s looking at you. “jisung we’re not doing that here.” you squawk out in disbelief, turning flustered by what he was trying to imply.

“baby, i meant kissing? who taught you these things, huh?” you bring out a laugh from him, finding your assumptions cute despite the nature of it. you were as bright as a tomato, a sight he’d cherish in his mind for a pretty long time. “could i kiss you though?”

you don’t know if him still asking you for permission to kiss you is needed, especially after the conversation you just had, but instead of answering him, you respond by pulling him down by the strings of his hoodie to kiss him.

it starts off sweet, almost as if you’re thanking him for your little trip, however, it gets a little needier as time progresses, and yet, his lips are as gentle as can be. you could stay like this forever, kissing him, under the starry sky. how did you get so lucky to have someone like him as your boyfriend?

“i love you.” he pulls away, breathless from the kiss. you smile, leaning in again to give him a soft peck. “i love you too. let’s have more dates like this, please?”

“anything for you, my baby.”

tags !!

#—hyuckbeam #jisung #park jisung #jisung fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct #nct dream #nct aus #nct dream aus #fluff #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic

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yagamisdiary · 5 months

Note

can we have some parasite or eldia headcanons on how they acted as kids 😭

omg yes !! i’ll do parasite first and then if u guys also want eldia lmk

parasite yn:

- was the type of kid to dig up worms in the backyard and keep them in her pockets to show ppl randomly for shock factor (i see her doing this with frogs and lizards too)

- used to hide in the kitchen cabinets to see how long it would take for her parents to find her

- once pretended to play dead at the public swimming pool and ppl actually began freaking out

- her dad had a lot of tattoos so she would color them in with markers whenever she was bored

parasite eren

- used to play an insane amount of call of duty

- his mom used to call him a stalker because he used to be everywhere anywhere at anytime and would just stare at ppl in silence (u know what scene i’m referring to)

- he has a total of 26 scars, a majority coming from childhood and forcing himself to learn how to skate

- used to own every skating magazine and wore Thrasher and Golf religiously in middle school

sasha

- was a surprisingly a picky eater for the first few years of her life and would only ever order dinosaur chicken nuggets until one day her dad convinced her to try something else and she never looked back

- used to be called the “jump rope queen” in elementary school and held the record for longest time spent without messing up

- her family are the richest farmers in Paradis and she grew up around a lot of animals. she has a horse, two pigs and several chicken

- used to think bloody mary was real and refused to be in any room with a mirror and the lights out

hitch

- was in beauty pageants at any early age until she got kicked out of one for cheating and sabotaging other girls

- has a childhood dog named lucky which her family recused from getting hit on the street

- preferred moths over butterflies because she was sad they didn’t get as much love

- used to beg her parents for quarters to get stick on tattoos for the machines

connie

- starting wearing cologne at a very early age because he was terrified ppl could smell that he hadn’t showered yet

- was that kid that had permanently orange fingers from too much cheese puffs

- type to smell his clothes on the floor to see if they’re clean or not

- won the talent show three times in a row in elementary for break dancing (it was the same routine every year)

jean

- only child energy of a rich family so he literally gets whatever he wants, doesn’t really know how to save money just asks for more

- tried to learn how to skate with eren once, failed miserably, and never bothered to try again

- cheese stick addict

- once fell off a moving truck and broke his arm

mikasa

- learned how to play piano and violin early on

- won the spelling bee once and never bothered to do it again

- was the kid who constantly asked where babies come from

- type of kid to get a new article of clothing and wear it to death

historia

- was in ballet for several years

- went through a phase where she was obsessed with chewing gum

- used to go shopping with her mom and lie to their dad about it

- had a cat that would sleep with her every night

#parasite

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tripthelight-fanfic · 2 years

Text

Four Knocks (Sam Kiszka Imagine)

Content Warning: mentions of drugging

Taglist: @flowervanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @sierraahhhh @theweightofstardust @samkiszkabreakmyback @prettyintopeerpressure @greta-flanveet @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw @the-chaotic-cow @tlexx @screechesincoherently @garagebandvanfleet @gretavanhoney @stardustdanny @joshysgf @cowboysamkiszka @lightmyluv @fleetsonfire @maykiszka @moonlightanthem and potentially you, just lmk!

yo when did half my taglist deactivate omg

Anonymous Request: okay i LOVE your angsty fics i wont lie ….. so if ur taking reqs… i was thinking something along the lines of like sam / character are childhood bffs with secret crushes on each other (everyone knows but them sorta situation) and maybe she goes out with someone and it upsets sam but the date goes horrible (maybe its a bad situation idc) and sam has to come to the rescue. idk i trust you … i’d love to read whatever you cook up!

(A/N): Lol guess who’s back! Sorry for taking an unannounced two month writing break, I haven’t been feeling super inspired lately to be quite honest. And I’m maybe about to start a new job so I can’t really say with upmost confidence that I’m “back” all the way, but I woke up to this request in my ask box this morning and coincidentally it aligns with a half-developed idea I’ve been playing around with for the last few weeks. To be fair, several people have posted fics with plots somewhat similar to this one (in which Y/N gets drugged at a bar), but I wanted to tweak the situation so that none of the boys are actually at said bar with her, but instead need to come to her rescue. This just so happens to align perfectly with this prompt so here I am, cranking it out for you. Just like old times (six months ago).

I hope you enjoy!!

also extra thank you to @vetaglanfeet and @joshysgf for looking this over for me before I posted :) love u both dearly

*********************************

Four Knocks

It was becoming abundantly clear that Sam was not going to be helpful this afternoon.

You had invited your childhood best friend Sam over to help you prepare for a date with Matthew, the guy you’d been casually running into and flirting with for months.

You were over by your closet rifling through clothes while Sam laid flopped over on your bed, paying more attention to an old Guinness World Records book he found on your bookshelf.

“Sam, please, can you at least pretend to care? Which looks better!” You held up two dresses, one pink and floral and the other a more subdued olive green color.

Sam’s eyes flitted up from the book to briefly scan the dresses, before moving up to glare at your own eyes. “Why are you so freaked out about this anyway? You know how to dress yourself, you don’t need my opinion.” He mumbled.

You groaned and threw a hanger at him. “Because I want to look nice, Samuel! I want him to think I’m pretty and maybe consider taking me on more dates! Lord knows nobody else is asking me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow, his cropped hair falling into his face as he tilted his head at you. You couldn’t help but take a moment to take in his current state. He was wearing a big white crewneck sweatshirt- one you might have suspected he stole from Josh if it hadn’t been so roomy on him. The stark white only served to deepen his dark features as his brown eyes trailed over the two dresses you were holding up.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to say you’d never had any feelings for Sam that extended past friendship. Frankly, you’d been pining after him for almost as long as you could remember. Before you even knew what it meant. But Sam never wavered. He was always just… Sam. Never going further than his normal, tirelessly supportive and happy-go-lucky self that he’d always been around you. At some point, you decided to try and accept that he would never feel the same and look outward to new romantic opportunities.

That’s where you stumbled upon Matthew. He was a guy who you’d run into at your favorite bar every so often. He always offered to buy you drinks and when you’d let him, he’d butter you up and ask when you were gonna let him take you out. It was flattering, and it made your heart leap to feel desired. He was pretty good looking too, who were you to turn down such an opportunity?So, last weekend you decided to finally take him up on his offer.

“You’re really getting your panties all in a twist for some guy from a bar who you barely know?”

You were brought back to reality by Sam’s snarky comment, and you felt your brows knitting together at his tone. “Yeah, Sam. I am. Are you alright with that?” You shot back sarcastically, dropping your arms that were holding up the dresses.

Sam watched as you turned back toward the mirror, taking turns holding up each dress against your body. He heaved a sigh and got up, “Go with the green one. It brings out your eyes. I’m gonna head out but good luck tonight.”

His voice was defeated but you were too preoccupied with his first sentence and pre-date jitters to notice. “Thank you! I’ll let you know how it goes!”

From down the hall, Sam opened the door and mumbled to himself, “Please fucking don’t,” mimicking your tone to himself as he left your apartment.

You stumbled your way into the restaurant bathroom, slamming the door shut and fumbling with the lock as your body slid onto the floor. Your head was spinning and the room almost seemed like it was too. You rested your back against the door as you heaved a deep breath, thankful that this wasn’t a multiple-person bathroom with stalls. You took a moment to remember what you came in there for, before looking down at your phone in your hand.

You blinked and suddenly you were calling Sam.

“Y/N?” Sam answered, confusion evident in his tone. “Shouldn’t you be on your date?”

You opened your mouth to speak and were surprised by how much effort it took to string together a sentence. “I aaaam on a date! You know that! Listen, I’m in a bit of a… a bit of a situation here and I thought to myself. Self, this situation calls for Sam. So I called you!”

There was a brief pause before Sam spoke again, a bit more warily this time. “Y/N, you sound fucking wasted. What, have you two been slamming shots?”

You shook your head, forgetting that Sam couldn’t see you. “No but that’s the situation! I just had a glass of red wine! I think he,” You took a break to hiccup, “I think he might’ve put somethin in my drink.”

Immediately you heard shuffling on Sam’s end. “Where are you?” He asked.

You shrugged to yourself, looking around at the bathroom in front of you. “Well right now I’m in the bathroom, because I don’t think he would’ve liked me calling up another dude during our date. That’s, like, rude, ya know?”

You could just barely hear the sound of Sam getting into his car and starting it. “You know what, Y/N, I think that was a good choice but not for the reason you just gave. I think this guy deserves a little rudeness. Do you remember what restaurant he took you to?”

You sat for a second, humming to yourself in thought. “I don’t remember the name. It’s the Italian place a few blocks from the bar I always met him at. He said he lives near here, comes all the time.”

Sam scoffed, “Figures. Look, you stay in that bathroom. I’m on my way over, okay? I’m gonna get there and knock four times so you know it’s me. Don’t open the door for anyone else, you got that?”

You smiled to yourself at the thought of seeing Sam, awareness quickly slipping through your fingers. “Four knocks! Can’t wait to see you! You know, I wish you had asked me on this date instead of him. You wouldn’t have done this to me.”

There was silence for a moment, and you briefly thought Sam had hung up, until you heard a deep sigh from the other line. “No, Y/N, I sure as hell wouldn’t have. Just please try to stay awake until I get there, okay?”

You held your hand up to your head in salute, again forgetting he cannot see you. “Aye aye, captain!”

Sam let out a humorless chuckle before actually hanging up. You let your phone fall to your side and leaned your head back against the door, fighting the drugs in your system that willed your eyes to close.

They did flutter shut for a moment before being startled back open by two loud knocks on the door.

“Y/N? You alright in there? It’s been a little while.” You sat back up a bit straighter at the sound of Matthew’s voice behind the door, reminding you that you weren’t safe yet.

“I’m okay, no worries! Just give me a few minutes.” You called out, trying your best to sound strong and put-together as your consciousness faded by the second.

You sat there, waiting anxiously for Sam for what felt like an hour but was more likely 10 minutes. Your doped-up brain filtered out the restaurant noise behind the door, even when it picked up a bit after a few minutes.

Finally, you were greeted by four clear knocks on your door.

Using more effort than you were expecting, you raised your hand to open the door. Your eyes met Sam’s face for a fleeting moment before they rolled back into your head, sleep finally taking over.

The next morning, you woke up tucked into your bed with your dress still on. You turned your head to look at your bedside clock and your head pounded in response. Suddenly, vague details of the night prior started flooding back, doing nothing to ease the dull ache in your head. You were relieved to see that you had made it home and woken up with your clothes intact, but there were large gaps of time you couldn’t remember from your night out.

And that scared the shit out of you.

You managed to muster up enough strength to reach over and check your phone, shocking yourself to see that it’s after noon.

You checked for outward calls and texts from the night before, even the Uber app to try and piece together how you made it home. All you could find was the single outward call to Sam. Maybe he would have answers.

You redialed him and placed the phone up to your ear, only to jump when you heard it ring from your living room. Sam’s here?

There was some shuffling behind your door as you heard the call get declined in your ear, immediately followed by the gentle knocking and opening of your bedroom door.

Four gentle knocks.

You watched as Sam’s timid frame entered your room and sat on the edge of your bed. His eyes were filled with worry and it made you sick to your stomach.

“Sam, what happened last night?”

He sighed and looked down at his hands. “How much do you remember?”

You shook your head, eyes scanning past him to try and piece together your evening. “Well, I remember when I got there. He seemed nice enough, a little forward like usual but nothing too crazy. We were just talking and…” Your brows knit as your memory started to get fuzzy. “I don’t understand, why don’t I remember anything else?”

You turned and looked back at Sam and were taken aback by the heartbroken look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused and first took hold of your hand closest to him, establishing a firm grip before speaking.

“He, um… He laced your drink with date rape drugs. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t look at you but he was forced to see in his peripheral the way your face fell in realization.

“So that’s why… Oh my God…” Your free hand flew up to cover your mouth as tears pricked at your eyes. You instinctually moved to pull your legs closer to yourself and Sam loosened his grip on your hand to let you move that as well. But you tightened your grip in response, in desperate need of his gentle grounding in this situation.

“But I… How did you… It doesn’t make any sense, Sam. It wasn’t even a bad date!” You were close to hysterics trying to piece together the logic of the situation, and Sam wasn’t willing to let you sit there and drive yourself crazy.

He scooted a bit closer to brush the hair out of your face with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “You locked yourself in the bathroom and called me before you lost consciousness. I was able to find the restaurant and get that piece of shit taken out in a cop car. God, he was waiting for you right outside the bathroom door, too. Luckily, you stayed awake long enough to unlock the door for me. But, fuck it was hard just watching you go limp after that.”

Sam inched closer and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, tears now silently streaming down your face and threatening Sam’s eyes as well.

“I carried you out and drove you home. And I just, I couldn’t leave you here. Not like this. I couldn’t let you wake up alone and confused or godforbid you woke up and remembered, I-“

You lifted your head up to meet Sam’s gaze when you noticed his watery voice start rambling. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek and he leaned into the touch. “Thank you, Sam. I don’t… think I could ever thank you enough. I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up that phone.” Your words sank in for yourself as you spoke them, and you pulled your hand away from Sam’s to wrap your arms around him and pull him tightly against you.

He gently pulled you into his lap and held you close, sniffling to himself. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. I would do it all again in a heartbeat, I would. I just really hate that you were put in that situation to begin with.” He rested his chin on top of your head that was pressed against his chest.

You had so many thoughts swimming through your head. Possibilities. Newfound fears. About a million questions, but one stood out from the rest. “Why did he do that?” You mumbled, burying your mouth and nose in the fabric of Sam’s sweatshirt and inhaling the comforting warmth.

Sam heaved a deep, shaky breath. “I… I don’t know. He’s a sick, disgusting man who thinks he can take whatever he wants from this world.” His hands started moving against you, one making warm sweeping strokes up and down your back while the other lightly pet your hair. “He should have never even had the opportunity to get near you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he succeeded. I wanted to kill him when I saw him standing outside that bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you?” Your question was muffled by the fabric you were nuzzled into, but his chest shook with a quick laugh.

“I’d still like to, but I couldn’t. You needed me.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, which made your heart flutter. He’s never done that before.

Sam seemed to notice at the same time, as he froze in place for a moment before quickly darting his head back to where it rested before on top of yours.

You both sat still for a few moments, trying to calm down and sit with what was just spoken. Eventually, Sam murmured, “How do you feel?”

You almost scoffed until you realized he was just checking in on you. “I feel… disgusting. I feel used and taken advantage of and I hate it.” Your arms pulled tighter against Sam to punctuate your last statement.

You could feel Sam shake his head as you spoke, and when you finished he retracted his arms to pull your face out from his chest so you could look at him. “Y/N, you have to understand that none of this happened by any fault of yours. You are no worse a person because of it and you are still every bit as beautiful as you were when I left here yesterday. I know you don’t feel that way right now but I just need you to trust me.”

Your eyes searched his for any semblance of lying and you found none. “You think I’m beautiful, Sam?” You asked, hope dripping from your tone of voice.

Sam’s eyes widened for a split second as he realized what he had just said, but as he saw the affection in your eyes he felt at ease doubling down. “I think you’re very beautiful. The most beautiful. That should’ve been me taking you out on that date.”

Your heart was racing at his words, completely unaware that you had voiced essentially the same sentiments to him the night before during the phone call. “You still can.” You whispered out, a blush spreading across your face.

Sam smiled down at you and placed a long kiss onto your forehead. “You know what? I just might. You deserve a re-do. Except this time, you’ll be treated the way you deserve.”

You beamed up at him and nuzzled your head back into his chest, missing the warmth and safety. Sam’s arms wrapped back around you and the two of you sat together contentedly. Sam’s hands were about to continue rubbing soothing strokes across your back when he stopped them, instead opting to point two of his fingers and tap them lightly against your back.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four times.

You smiled against him in memory, surprising even yourself with your ability to see tenderness in such a painful memory.

And you reached one of your hands up his back to give four clear taps back.

#this is perfect I need to level out my masterlist anyway I was lacking some sam #well specifically for consistency’s sake I was lacking a sam SMUT but we don’t have to talk about that #I do really enjoy requests thank you for this anon #sam Kiszka #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfic #gvf imagine #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x reader

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xiaojuun · 10 months

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gif remake challenge (original here) - remake someone's else coloring, sharpening, slowing, and resizing. do your best to get close to the original and share how you did. make a new gif to challenge those you tag to recreate. share the source video if possible! try not to tell those you tagged anything to help them : see what they can figure out and how close they get on their own! if you're tagged in several, you can do one or all, whatever you like! if they have a giffing tutorial, shared actions, etc., you can use that to aid your recreation!

i was tagged by @aquablues to do my best in recreating theeee signature bristyle coloring ... lmk how you think i did !! 🫣

i want to see iconic gas pedal minhee gifs on the dash so source material here n i am tagging @lunetual @leewonseo @hyvnsuk @weitual @minzbins @y5ngha @hongberries @miyawaki IF u want to play and of course anyone else who wants to can say i tagged you <3

#i was gonna do this tomorrow n then i was like. let me just do it now . JKNBGJHBDS #this was rly fun thanks for tagging me briestieeee!

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year

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This is weird but! Do you have any tips for someone who wants to start wearing binders? I’ve wondered if I should start with a compression top first just to see how I feel about it? I can’t afford to invest in something that I won’t like/ won’t be able to wear due to comfort reasons ya know? Not in this economy

i have absolutely no idea where you live lmao BUT i would say there are definitely a few options so u can try on a binder without buying one first, or u can always return one that u try on & don’t like (just wear a thin tshirt underneath)

but ok so the first is that a lot of lgbtq centers will have binders or be able to connect you to local binder programs! there are more free / discounted binders out there than u might expect, which is awesome. i can’t specifically help w this but if u hmu off anon i could

secondly most queer sex stores have binders that u can try on. again, age & location dependent, but it can be a great fun & affirming space too

i think if u are able to get a binder thru an org, the policy will probably always be that u can return it to get a new size or style; most likely the same if you got it at a sex store.

for ordering, right now i would go with underworks for your first binder, their quality has stayed consistent & they last for a long time. make sure that you measure yourself properly before you buy or order anything, bc sizing doesn’t work like a bra or sports bra (you have to measure your shoulders & your chest to keep ur body safe). my org used to work w gc2b but there have been a ton of complaints from the community in the past few years; i know they’re “revamping” their QA but i’m not sure what that actually means lol. gc2b does have tons of skin color options for their nude binders, so hopefully the quality does legitimately improve bc i rly loved their stuff years ago. but yah for now i would say underworks is probably ur best bet for a comfortable(ish) binder

other basic safety stuff — don’t bind for over 8 hours, make sure you break up binding with both rest, & if you’re able, gentle movement (transyogateacher on ig has a wonderful series for chest & shoulder relief). w a s h your binder omg lol. a binder is an undergarment so you should wash it every time you wear it, like underwear, but at least every other time. you can wash it with dish soap or a small blob of detergent l & hang dry, so it’s v quick & will help ur skin stay healthy! (plus, less gross). if u wear a binder during sport or movement, be sure to wear a size up. & most importantly if ur binder starts to hurt, take it off

if u want some help connecting to a local free or discounted binder program & ur in the US i can definitely help, if ur not in the US i can do my best to help lol so lmk!

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pepprs · 8 months

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dont worry abt responding to my messages!! they can be little trinkets for u to keep forever if u wanna :)))

dear anon… how could i not respond to THESE!!!!!!!!!! 😭💗💗💗💗💗💗💗 you are the sweetest kindest most WONDERFUL soul. it is an honor to receive these beautiful letters and i hope you know how much i cherish each and every one. not just the words but the adventures you take me on and write up for the two of us!!! and the beauty and magic you help me to see in the world around me and the peace and love and love and love you conjure for me in moments when i cant find it or feel it so easy!!!! like idk i know i have no idea who you are outside of being dear anon and i only answer asks once in a blue moon but it truly means the world to me. TRULY.

your writing feels like all the best things, all the things i love most. like leaf piles in the fall and the pikmin bloom soundtrack (btw if you dont play that already i HIGHLY recommend it to you specifically, i think u would really like it and tbh you sending me these letters has the same vibe as my pikmin bringing me postcards from their adventures :"~DDDD!!! if you ever do join it please lmk i would LOVE to be friends and send you postcards and do adventures together!!!!) and frosting on cupcakes and twinkly dust motes in the sunlight and cumulus clouds and dogwood flowers and the way things made of glass refract rainbows and SUNLIGHT SUNLIGHT SUNLIGHT. and even that isnt cutting it. how magical it all is. like i wish i wasnt so exhausted so i could express it better but it truly is so... idk. NOSTALGIC! COZY! HOME!!!!!

so... in order to try to articulate it (and also show my thanks / return the favor / etc.), i am sending this letter along with a care package knitted with word and song and magic and light. enclosed please find:

wind chimes that sing like the sun hitting the lake (also i REALLY want to get a butterfly hair clip!!! i cant wear hair clips or anything else fancy in my hair bc of my mask headbands but id love to have one in case im ever able to wear it in the future 🥹)

a heart-shaped pebble from brighton, to add to your collection (btw i LOVE the part about how you lost them a long time ago but you love them so you remember what they look like. WAUGH. gut punch GUT PUNCH IN THE BEST WAY!!!!)

a mug for hot chocolate, so we can share some together when it gets cold again -- decorated with hand-painted stars in all colors!

a tiny needle to knit your sundust satchels -- like the kind youd find in pixie hollow or the tale of desperaux or something (also both things that have dear anon vibes to me and are also DEEPLY nostalgic for me!)

a recipe for starfait, with illustrations!! (also i LOVE that idea for a replacement for "tesscore"!! but i may end up using that for my personal tag on my undertale / deltarune blog instead bc its so perfect (and also im HONORED that u associate that with me 😭😭😭😭))

a crown and wand for you to wear to match the fairy queen mouse while you write the same kind of magic and comfort she brings!

a packet of magical flower seeds that sprout the most whimsical sweet-smelling flowers, with petals that are soft to the touch!

a hand-woven scarf in your favorite color threaded with shiny silver strands, like comets streaming through the sky (also i am SO late to say this but UNO REVERSE CARD re: your new years wish to me which is genuinely making me lumpthroated and teary eyed reading it again in AUGUST. you are the sweetest EVER. and also ive never played journey before but ive been interested in it for years!!! i'll have to check it out and/or watch a playthrough!)

a hummingbird sculpture on a long stick for you to plant in your garden among the flowers, to sing to them and to you! (also RE: your question about your vocal range -- it just means that you can cover a little over two octaves (the number after the letter is the octave it's in, and each octave is a span of c-d-e-f-g-a-b-c -- so your range starts at about halfway through the third octave and goes to halfway through the fifth!) i think your range is about the same as mine iirc so we can hum along with the hummingbird and all three follow each other's notes :"~D <3)

a golden acorn on a thread for you to wear as a necklace when we go to the bird tea party! (by the way, have you ever read the book ""until the last acorn "when the last acorn is found?" it's a BEAUTIFUL book and it made me cry reading it! i think you and the acorn people would get along very, very well!!)

a lantern made of jelly moonlight and silver foil stars (see: ilomilo chapter 4 :"~D) for you to carry on your walks through the dim nights (you can hang the stars in the sky, and they'll brighten the world and light at your touch!)

a copy of one of my favorite books of all time, "the ten thousand doors of january," which is so much about wedging cracks open into other worlds, and something i think you might like very much / resonate with too!!

a big, big hug.

dear anon: THANK YOU. for all these words and for being you. i dont know how i got so lucky to have you sending me these little trinkets but i will most CERTAINLY keep them forever. i hope you experience all the peace and love and love and love to infinity. may you always know and shine with the light you bring and the light you are.

#purrs #asks #dear anon #<- im making you a tag now!!! i can’t believe i didn’t have one already!!#tess answers asks 2023 #(i had to take screenshots of some of these bc they werent showing up in my desktop inbox for some reason? but... this officially #concludes my ask-answering spree for today! tysm to everyone who sent me an ask i love u all so so much <3 <3 <3 i may rb stuff a little #more before going to bed but... (preemptively) goodnight and sweet dreams 🫂💗💗💗💗#save #comfort #tesscore #(ALSO BTW: i completely forgot abt adding alt text to the posts where i put screenshots of asks (like this one) so i'll try to go back and #do that tmrrw after work!!)

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americanphysco · 2 years

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I'm sure you've said something about it already when the news first dropped but now that an episode is out I just HAVE to know what ur take on the interview w a vampire show is. do I need to hate it like the movie because I trust ur opinion or are u like. neutral. do u think you'll watch it? you're the leading authority on this To Me

okay first off hii tee I'm sorry I've been such an offline blogger recently I've just been working sooooo much 😔. how're you!! how've you been!

but as for the iwtv show. it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. honestly, as somebody who desperately wants more queer vampire media, it pisses me off that they've decided to make a show based off a violently racist (and poorly written) film rather than create a new and interesting story about complex queer characters of color. it feels like they're trying to sweep all the "questionable/problematic" elements of the original under the rug, and I know that this show will only further cement iwtv's role as """""iconic queer cinema"""""", which is extremely upsetting to me. the film's managed to remain a cultural juggernaut for so long with little to no criticism despite being drenched in a predatory portrayal of queerness, anti-blackness, and pedophilia, and I know that the show having interracial mlm main characters will only help white queer fans of the film to defend it and the harm its done. and, while I'm not sure who is apart of the writing team, it doesn't sit right with me that the showrunner is not a person of color. like. it'd be one thing if a queer person of color wanted to reclaim iwtv and reinvent it as a piece of media they could see themselves in, but that's clearly not the case seeing as the showrunner is a white man. so it makes things even worse for me. idk. I have no doubt that the show is well done, but I just can't see myself watching it because I'd be unable to distance it from the abhorrent movie its connected to. I have some more thoughts on the differences between what I know about the show and the movie, but I'll spare you from those because they're less serious than things like the inherent racism of the source material. I will say though I'm nervous for how claudia is going to be portrayed, seeing as she appears to be older than she is in the film (and god knows that the movie had an awful time depicting her character and her relationship w louie) :/ if you watch it pls lmk your thoughts on it. but I don't think I'll ever bring myself to sit through it.

#asks #tee 👕

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drippity · 1 year

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tag game from @catgirlwheels ♥️ sorry I take so long with everything!!!!!

last song I listened to: Ring 7 - Industry, by The Dear Hunter!! it's from their new concept album about a future dystopia & it's dope as fuck please listen thx 😊

favorite color: probably like baby/Barbie pink!!! I love pink purple n blue very much tho 💙💜

reading: tbh I haven't read anything in a hot minute, but just recently I read I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jeannette McCurdy, which was fantastic & morbid & relatable to almost anyone with emotionally abusive parents, with an obvious content warning, but specifically for eating disorders which are featured heavily.

last movie: Encanto!! I loved it! I'm not a movie person, even a little, and usually only watch them on planes, but it was lovely and I really enjoyed the song Pressure

what I'm working on: basically nothing LMAO I've been on vacation for a couple of months trying to figure out immigration to the UK and basically decided on "just might not tbh." will probably be working on a deep clean of my house when I get back and MORE COVERS AAA. I need to record some more singing!!!!!! yesterday tbh!!!!

I don't really know if any of my mutuals are into this kind of thing but if u read this and u think it'd be fun just say I tagged u!!! or u can DM me and lmk you wouldn't mind and I'll tag u in this one or future ones!!! ily guys

#tag game

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queenlua · 2 years

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i just realized i have a birding q for you! theres a v pretty bird i see in the garden often now, but merlin bird ID doesnt seem to have it and the closest match live in east+southeast asia. do u know of a good online database i can search to try and find it? i flipped thru my audubon guide and i dont think it was in there either

oh!!! i must've gotten this question while i was on hiatus; sorry for the delay!

so if this bird doesn't match what you're seeing in merlin, and you can't find it in an audubon guide, i'd personally reach out to the local birding listserv or a local birding facebook group with details about the bird and ask there. they'll have a better idea of whether a weird-looking bird is expected or not!

in Washington State, that local listserv is Washington Tweeters, and even though the interface is old-timey it's pretty easy to use—sign up, send an email with detailed info, and people will email back with replies. (try to include as much info as you can—linking pictures are great if you have them, even if they're low-quality, and a description of the location, habitat, witnessed behavior, shape, size, and coloration, will all be helpful.)

i've briefly signed up for mailing lists in Kentucky, New Mexico, Louisiana, etc, just to ask a quick question, and the replies are always friendly.

this is an index of all the listservs for various US states; if your location isn't on there, and you're comfortable DMing me where you are, let me know and i can try and look up a helpful group for you!

good luck & deffo lmk if it ends up being a cool rare bird! (or even just an ordinary bird; ordinary birds are cool too :D)

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reidsnose · 3 years

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doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matt simmons #bau #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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ladyvesuvia · 2 years

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Where or When

PAIRING: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

SUMMARY: Some things that happen for the first time seem to be happening again when the Yule comes around once more. (Where or When by Dion & The Belmonts) || REQUEST

WORDS: 1.1k

REMINDER(S): Happy AU where Remus is a professor in GoF and the Yule Ball is yearly/frequent. Super smol angst if u think about it but all in all mostly fluff and dancing :))

for @draconisxcaput’s harry potter writing event! major props to her for organizing everything <3

A/N: my drafts are constantly having errors where it keeps repeating certain sentences idk why skdhej so lmk if something’s wrong !!

—

You bump into someone. “Sorry, I wasn’t — Remus!”

“Hi,” he says, abashed.

You scratch the back of your neck, resisting the urge to just run out as fast as you can.

You smile back. It’s just Remus, you think to yourself. Just Remus and myself. “Hi.”

“That’s a lovely dress.”

You chuckle. “Why, thank you.”

Remus had considered all the things he could say: May I have this dance? Would you like to dance with me?

“Dance?” he manages to ask, blinking rapidly.

You take the hand he had been hesitant holding out. “Alright,” you say.

The music keeps playing, and so does the dancing.

“Remus,” you say in greeting.

“[Y/N],” he greets. “So, uh, how are you this fine evening?”

“Bearable.”

You’re thankful for the music taking up space between the both of you. Neither of you really had a date yet according to what’s happening as of the moment, it looks like the two of you do.

The night goes on as perfect as it could be, but the days that followed weren’t as lovely.

It was never mentioned again, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

And so it was all lost somewhere in your mind.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

YULE BALL 1994

He stands and lingers by one of the tables, just watching the students chat with one another. On another night, he’d only be in his quarters, figuring out the next plan of action for his lessons but attendance has become a requirement for everyone.

As well as for you.

You, on the other hand, are standing at the other end of the room, trying out the new delicacies they had for this year’s Yule Ball.

When the music began, however, you found yourself left alone, stranded in the sea of dancing teenagers.

You pass by the spinning students in their beautiful dresses and robes, the memory of your own Yule Ball presenting itself in your memory. It was a night like this, your classmates and other familiar faces both younger and older dancing past in your view and—

You bump into someone. “My apologies, I wasn’t — Remus! I mean, Professor Lupin!”

The students are still dancing, but you could tell there were subtle glances here and there from them but you tried to pay them no mind as you stood there right in front of your old friend.

It seems we stood and talked like this before

We looked at each other in the same way then

But I can't remember where or when

“Hi,” he manages to say.

Wait, you think. You’re quite sure you had this dream once already.

You could have sworn you’ve already been in this very moment not so long ago. “Hi,” you respond with an amused laugh, “wintry room, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, wintry room,” he says, his head bobbing up and down in awkward agreement. He then gestures to you. “Lovely dress you’re wearing.”

“Thank you, kindly,” you say with a laugh.

He had seen this movie once upon a time unfold before his eyes, as well. But when?

The clothes you're wearing are the clothes you wore

The smile you are smiling you were smiling then

But I can't remember where or when

“Dance?”

“Alright,” you respond, allowing him to take your hand and lead you among the countless other pairs of students.

And just like that, you were watching a distant memory: yourself in a dress the color of which complemented your complexion in the flurry of spinning gowns and delightful music as you tried to escape the scene only to find yourself standing before the very person who stands before you now — Remus Lupin.

At the Yule Ball of 1974, you had stood rigidly in front of each other, both wearing clothing you’d never thought you’d ever wear again.

Yet here you are now, two decades past, standing in the same spot you once stood as naïve teenagers.

You had grown apart over the years and yet it’s as if the world is ricocheting; as if it wants you together.

You shake off the thought.

Some things that happen for the first time

Seem to be happening again

“Remus,” you greet, just like you did back then, half-hoping he’d catch on.

“[Y/N],” he responds knowingly.

These greetings were the exact thing you’d said to each other on the night of the Yule Ball.

The night when you both willingly escaped the chance to escape just to dance with each other only to never speak of it again for the times that followed.

Is that what’s going to happen again?

But the weight of the future matters no longer when he bows with a glint of mischief in his eyes before reaching out his hand to you. “How are you this fine evening?”

You know he knows. He has seen this before and he’s willing to see it again.

“Bearable,” you answer, your mouth used to the words despite only having been in this conversation once two decades ago.

And so it seems that we have met before

And laughed before

Remus leads you a bit far away at every spin, hoping to get away from the blurry scene of dancing teens.

“I didn’t know you had moves,” you whisper, catching him off guard upon hearing you say something you had not said that night.

This is now.

Remus spun you, making sure to not mess up the footwork so as to not ruin the moment. “I’ve aged but I haven’t gone senile, of course I have moves.”

He brightens up after you laugh, and all the tension from all the unsaid things that have hung between the two of you died away and it’s all so easy to be yourselves in this moment.

And suddenly you’re close to each other, closer than the dance is typically choreographed and you try hard not to think of the aftermath. You try hard not to think of how it’ll be again. You try hard not to think of the several more times there’ll be more unsaid things.

And loved before

But who knows where or when

As Remus strays away from the song’s direction and leads you to a slow dance instead, you seize the opportunity to ask him.

It’s now or never, and you’d rather that it’d be the now.

“How many more dances do I have to dance with you for you to stop tiptoeing around me?”

You had expected him to go rigid. Melt, even. But he doesn’t.

This time, the dance will last long after the music stops because he knows.

He’s seen this movie before, and he’s more than just willing to change how it ends. “Just one more in the garden and I’ll make it up to you.”

One of the many impeccable things about Remus Lupin is that he keeps his word, and so you let him guide you outside for one more dance.

yall idk what happened at the top but here’s how it’s originally meant to start omfg

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