#divergent four oneshot

[heliads]

Something More

Based on this request: "a jealous four. reader isnt oblivious and sees the way four looks and acts with her but she gets tired of him taking long to shoot his shot so she starts flirting with another dude to make him jealous"

request sourced freshly from wattpad

masterlist

Something in this room is driving you mad. You can feel the weight of it pinned directly between your shoulder blades like a knife, following you relentlessly no matter where you go. You can pace back and forth across the training room, you can traverse the whole of the Dauntless complex, but you still know it’s there, he’s there. Watching. Waiting. 

Four. 

It is not an aggressive stare, this, it does not make you afraid, far from it. Four is not a threat to you, nor, you think, he will ever be. He is simply looking, simply observing, but for some reason that act has the power to completely throw you off kilter. 

Maybe it’s because he is only ever looking at you like this. Yes, that must be it. Four is an instructor, he has the responsibility to watch everyone here to keep them from harming themselves or others, but something is different when he’s around you. Instead of passively observing, he’s well and truly looking at you, like he likes what he sees and wants to see more, too. 

You try to put it out of your mind. Four is not your concern here, or not so anything more than the fact that he’s one of your initiation instructors and you’re trying not to get dropped before you enter the faction properly. It’s not Four’s fault if you get distracted by his attention. It’s not Four’s fault if it only ever leaves you wanting something more. 

As time goes on, though, and that something more never comes, you start to chafe against the constant pressure of his attention even more than before. He treats you differently than the other initiates, but only slightly, only ever enough to make you dream of the possibility of something changing down the line. He’ll never give you more than the time of day, but from the way he won’t ever stop his constant affiliation with you, you can’t escape the idea that maybe, just maybe, he wants that something more just as much as you do. 

The end of Phase One of Dauntless initiation draws ever closer, and Four fails to act on anything he may or may not be feeling. You could be wrong, of course, he could mean nothing by his ever present attention, but you’re not willing to take the risk of letting a small something fade away and be forgotten once initiation is over. 

If Four will not do something, well, then, the burden of acting on these impulses falls to you. Tricking an initiation leader into revealing his hand won’t be the easiest task in the world, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. Four should know that, seeing as he’s so inclined to marking your every action. He should know that you would provoke him like this, and he should have seen it coming from quite far off indeed. 

You need one more person in your scheme to get under Four’s skin. You find your target with ease— Thomas, a dark haired boy also in your initiation class,  close enough to your rank that you won’t have to worry about keeping him close but just enough below that you’ll be able to drop him without needing to fear retaliation. Thomas is fast, smart, strong, all the things that would perhaps give someone like Four cause for concern. In short, he is perfect, and so the plan is laid. 

Next morning, you ask Thomas if he wants to spar together the next morning, just to practice. He nods readily; you’re one of the best people here, it’s why you thought Four started paying attention to you in the first place, up until the point when he stayed there in your corner even when you made mistakes. The two of you head to a fighting ring near the side of the training hall, and if you specifically chose the one right in Four’s line of vision, well, no one needs to notice that but the two of you.

You jump up and down, trying to get some blood back into your muscles. Across the ring, Thomas does the same. He grins at you, evidently proud that you’ve chosen him of all the other eligible fighters. “Hope you aren’t looking for a victory, Y/N, because I’m going to kick your ass.”

He’s grinning, though, so you smile back. “You wish. When we’re done, you’ll have more broken bones than everyone in the med wing combined.”

“Promise?” Thomas asks, laughing, and lunges for you. You roll just in time, hitting the ground right before him. 

Usually, this is the part where you get right back up again, ready to take him down for good. However, your primary motive for this little endeavor isn’t necessarily to win, just to get someone’s eyes on you. So, you stay down, grappling with Thomas so he has no choice but to pin you, up until the point where you escape out from under him and do the same.

Thomas raises a brow suggestively. “You know, I may have lost that round, but I’m kind of happy anyway.”

You grin. “Does that mean you’re fine with losing again? I’m sure my ranking and I won’t have any problems with that.”

Thomas opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off by the sound of an irritable shout. It’s Four, arms folded so tightly across his chest that he looks a few seconds away from breaking a rib. “Focus, initiates! You’re not here to talk.”

When you glance over at him, you can’t help but smirk at how furious he looks. Everything is going according to plan, then, he’s jealous, just as expected. He may be in charge of everyone here today, but damn if you can’t play him like any other. Looks like all that talk about so few fears and so much bravery doesn’t stand in the face of plain old envy.

In a great show of reluctance, you get off of Thomas, extending your hand to help him up. He takes it, knuckles lingering over yours for a few moments longer than necessary. You can just make out Four’s silhouette over Thomas’ shoulder, how every fiber in his body seems to radiate with barely controlled anger.

You can only push a ruse so far before it becomes too obvious, though, so you drop Thomas’ hand and get back into a fighting position. This time, you try a little harder to win, exchanging punches and kicks for a good period of time before ‘accidentally’ dropping your guard and letting Thomas tackle you around the middle. He’s obviously in the mood to play around too, and takes his time spinning you in the air before placing you carefully on the ground.

“You better watch yourself,” he says, breath uneven from the exertion of the fight, “I think I’m catching up to you.”

You look up at him, eyes half-lidded. Thomas’ dark hair falls around his face, given the impression of a halo by the light right behind his head. All of a sudden, though, he’s ripped away, and the blinding light falls onto your face to reveal a newcomer. You didn’t hear Four climb up onto the platform of the fighting ring, nor did you detect him coming so close until he pushed Thomas away from you.

Four’s face is a dark slate, devoid of any emotion except a sharp, cold fury. His voice is clipped when he speaks, and when he tells you to meet him outside, now, Thomas actually jumps out of his way. Thomas flashes you an apologetic look as you go, but you can’t find it within you to return it. After all, this isn’t a punishment, not for you. 

In fact, this is exactly what you wanted. A scene, a public show, some sign that Four would be willing to transgress his perfect picture of leadership to make his feelings known to you. You may have forced his hand more than a little, sure, but all’s well that ends well.

The door slams shut behind you, abandoning both you and Four to the dark emptiness of the hall outside the training room. All the other initiates are somewhere inside that cavernous chamber, running laps or practicing their form, and the other Dauntless are at their jobs. No one would see the two of you, then. No one would see what transpired here at all save you and him and the beating tension between the two of you.

Four’s face doesn’t lose its chill even when Thomas is out of sight. “Do you want to tell me what that was?”

You shrug as casually as you can. “I was sparring with a friend. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“Oh, really?” Four asks, “A friend? That’s what you call whatever that little display was?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him. It’s far more fun to play the innocence card as long as you can, it certainly doesn’t help Four’s temper.

Four scoffs. “Of course you do. You think I didn’t see how often you were looking at me? That whole time you were with him, purposefully going easy so he could keep his hands on you. You think I wanted to see that?”

“I don’t know,” you repeat, “You haven’t given me any reason to think otherwise. All you do is stand there and watch. Maybe one of us had to do something.”

“So that’s what this was?” Four asks, brows raised, “You wanted to do something? I’ll show you something.”

You’re expecting the kiss, you have been all morning, but that doesn’t stop the breath from leaving your lungs in one rapid rush when it finally happens. His hand is on the back of your neck, keeping you there, with him, in that moment. It feels like drowning, but the thought of living after this is such an inconceivable notion that you’d rather just let the waters claim you whole.

He breaks away eventually, unfortunately, and even in the shadows of the corridor with his face only bare millimeters away from yours you can still tell that he’s proud of himself, corners of his lips twisted up in victory. “Was it worth it?” He asks slowly.

You let out a half-laugh, a needy breath taking over the rest. “It was,” you decide.

“Good,” he tells you, and kisses you again, just so you can be sure. Perhaps jealousy has its merits after all.

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog

[urdinosaurs]

I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE MOVIES, I'M TALKING ABOUT THE BOOKS!!!

(the books are sm better than the movies)

[skiiyoomin]

i beg you to write some tobias eaton jealousy smut where he gets all possesive and shit

possesive tobias makes me feralll

also the plot is boring as hell but i geniuenly couldnt come up with something else

warnings: smut, possessiveness, swearing, fem reader, slight tease Tobias, dirty talk? little tiny bit of degradation (he calls you a slut)

RULES !!

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

REQUESTS: OPEN

NAVIGATION

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

Summary: Tobias had to show exactly who you belong to

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

Need | Tobias Eaton

You're beatiful, that's a fact. Tobias knew it, everyone at Dauntless did. He always felt lucky and greatful to have ended up with you, and he always made sure to remind you of that fact.

However, like everything, there was a downside. People at Dauntless had a tendency for....boldness. Of course that was a given, I mean, it's literally their nature to be bold. But there were times Tobias wished people weren't so bold.

Often times he'd catch people staring at you a little longer than necessary. Other times they'd straight up attempt to flirt with you, but you quickly shut down their advances. However, there's always going to be some idiot who doesn't understand what no means. Like right now.

You were at a party and of course, as expected of Dauntless, everything was absolutely wild. You were having a great time and, surprisingly, so was Tobias. As expected, you had caught the eyes of many in your black silk dress that night and while he felt slightly uneasy at this, who were they to blame really, you did look stunning after all.

At one point, he unwrapped his arm from your waist and excused himself to the bathroom. When he came back, what he saw had him clenching his jaw and curling his hands into fists. A random guy was towering over you, leaning a bit too close for comfort, your face clearly showed discomfort, which had Tobias immediately coming to your side.

"Are you ok darling? Is he bothering you?" He glared at the man as he asked the question, his gaze softening when he glanced back down at you. You meekly nodded, wanting nothing more than to be left alone with your lover.

"Oh come one babygirl don't play hard to get, we were having fun" The man reeked of alcohol making his nose twitch in disgust. His grip on your waist tightened. "She's clearly taken, so I would back off if I were you"

The man merely glanced at him before he drifted his attention back to you, continuing his advances. Tobias stepped in front of you, pushing a finger into the mans chest. "I said back off" He seethed.

Before he could answer, Tobias grabbed your hand and walked towards the door with a fast pace, leaving you no choice but to follow. Once you were walking down the empty hallways of the compound, you reached up to place your hand on his tense shoulders. Hesitantly, you called out to him.

"..Tobias?"

You were answered with silence, and while you questioned the unusual behaviour, you decided to keep quiet, not wanting to cause further tension.

Before you knew it, you were at the door of your shared apartment. As soon as the door closed, Tobias had you pressed up against the wall, his lips kissing yours in fervour. You were absolutely breathless, your mind going blank at the feeling of his hands roaming your body.

He seperated from your lips, though only a mere centimeters. He gazed deep into your eyes, his own half lidded ones holding a dark lustful gaze. "You're mine" He growled. His low tone sent shivers down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat.

He picked you up with ease, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he manuvered with ease through the house and to your bed. Gently he plopped you down and crawled on top of you, his toned arms caging you under him. His lips were back on yours, the tension rising as his hands roam your curves. Your shirt rode up with the movements and in one swift movement it was off, leaving you in your bra. His lips began to move down, leaving lingering kisses on your jaw and neck. You let out a breathy moan when he kisses the crevice of your neck. When he pulled back, he admired the series of hickeys decorating your neck.

With expertise, he unclipped your bra, throwing it to the side. Similarly to your neck, he began to spread hickeys wherever he could. Your back arched when his warm mouth enveloped your sensitive nipple, the other teased between his thumbs. "Mmm Tobias" You breathed out, your hands on the back of his head, messing up his brown locks. He continued giving his attetion to your chest, switching between one nipple and the other until you were writhing underneath him.

"Please Tobias, I need it"

You whined, but he only seemed to want to tease you.

"Need what baby? Use your words"

"Fuck please, i- i need your cock"

That's all he needed to hear for him to remove the rest of your clothes as well as his own onto the pile on the floor. He placed his hands under your knees, spreading your legs until you were wide open for him. The sight of your wet cunt made his dick twitch, a groan errupting from his throat at the sight. "Fuck baby you're already so wet for me, can't wait for this cock to fill you up hm?"

You nodded frantically, wanting to be filled up to the brim. You grinded your hips, needing to feel friction on your throbbing pussy. He leaned forward, pressing your legs to your chest as he lined up with your needy hole. Without any warning, he slammed into you, causing a loud moan to rip from you.

"I'm gonna show everyone who you belong to, who fucks you so hard you can't walk properly like a needy little slut"

You whined at the filthy words, but before you could even react, he was already slamming his hips into your ass, the dirty sounds of squelching filling the room.

He lifted your hips a little bit, allowing him to reach places you didn't know existed. Your head fell back onto the mattress, your jaw hung open while the most pornographic mewls left your mouth. He grunted at the feeling of your walls tightening around his dick, your nails scratching his back adding to the feeling of pleasure.

Soon enough your back arched, your moans rising in pitch and your words turned into gibberish as you felt your orgasm reach its peak. Tobias quickened his pace, feeling his own release coming close.

"o-ooh my god f-fuck i'm gonna cum"

"cum for me baby"

With a couple more thrusts you were cumming all over his cock, your body jerked uncontrollably. Not long after he released his seed inside you, using your overstimulated hole to chase his high.

When you finally caught your breath, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips "That was good"

He pressed kisses all over your face before looking at you with a smirk "Don't think I'm done with you"

[ilguna]

Hey! I love your work so much. Can you do 4 with four (tobias) from divergent ?

☼ succeed (tobias eaton) ☼

warnings; swearing, fighting, blood mention.

wc; 2.4k

prompt; 4. "Why do you sacrifice so much for me?"

notes; tweaked canon, obviously. not really noticeable unless you’re a huge fan.

--

Dauntless initiation is—unsurprisingly—far from what you thought it would be. To be fair, you’re not entirely sure what exactly you were expecting in the first place. All you know was that you were going to be in for a ride when they made you jump on and off of a moving train directly after transferring. 

This gave you a clue of what was to come, of course, but you took it in a different direction. If they wanted to see how daring you could be by risking your lives, then maybe that meant you’d be doing dangerous tasks throughout the rest of the month. 

On the first day, you assumed that you’d be learning how to throw away your inhibitions and solely rely on your instincts. An idea that isn’t incredibly outlandish when it comes to Dauntless. After all, they’re the ones in charge of security and wall perimeter—the jobs that can end up being deadly.

This is why you didn’t have a significant reaction when you were informed by Four that they’d be introducing you to self-defense. They proceeded to hang you a gun, gave you a target, and told you to shoot until your bullets were gone. And after lunch, they brought you to a large room where you were taught how to properly fight an opponent.

This is when reality had begun to set in. They were not teaching you this in case the situation ever arose, but because they wanted you to use it in the coming week. You’re going to be forced to defend yourself, whether you like it or not. They were just being courteous enough to teach you how to, first.

You didn’t figure this out until yesterday when you saw the chalkboard. While it had previously been devoid of writing, it suddenly held a list of names side by side, pairing initiates up together. For the first few minutes, you were under the impression that it was for sparring.

When they sent Al and Will into the center circle together, instructed to fight one another, you looked at Four. You found his eyes already on you, arms crossed over his chest, face hard. In that moment, you remembered all of his warnings for you to pay close attention to the way he’d been throwing his kicks and punches.

It’s not like you were ignoring him, but you did continuously brush him off because he was being overbearing. He must’ve taken this as you just being a know-it-all Erudite, leaving you to figure it out on your own. You’d have to learn one way or another that your logic wouldn’t help.

When really, you hadn’t heard him when he said that you’d be fighting your fellow initiates. 

You were a deer in headlights when the rules were explained. In these fights, you are to keep going until one of you is unable to continue. And while you could concede, it won’t be done without going unpunished. In the old rules, a brave man can acknowledge the strength of others. In the new rules, made by the newest Dauntless leader, a brave man never surrenders.

You think Four may have recognized that a mistake was made. He was quick to come up with an escape, albeit at the cost of your pride. He called you out in the middle of Eric’s explanation, telling you not to be sick on the floor unless you wanted to clean it. All you had to say was that breakfast wasn’t settling well, and you were excused to go sit down with a trash can.

With there being ten initiates in your group, there should’ve been five fights. You sat out, making it four, but none of you made it past the second one. Will and Al fought just fine, Al even won. The next fight to happen was Christina and Molly, which was following the same pattern as the first fight, until Christina decided that she wanted to concede.

That’s when you were informed that a punishment would go along with it. Eric was pissed, dragging Christina all the way to the chasm in the Pit that hangs above the river, barking at the rest of you to follow. He then made her climb to the other side of the railing and forced her to hold on to the bridge by her hands until he was satisfied.

When she didn’t fall to her death, you were dismissed for the rest of the day. This destroyed your plan of analyzing the fighting techniques of the others to figure out what you’re supposed to do. To make up for it, you thought you could come practice in the middle of the night, but the doors were locked.

So, to put it lightly, you’re screwed. The only way to learn now is from the fights that will be taking place, and even then you’ll still be at a disadvantage no matter how you approach it.

As soon as you step foot into the training room, your eyes find the chalkboard, curious to who you’ve been paired up with today. Yesterday, it was supposed to be Tris, the Abnegation transfer. She would’ve been a good first fight to figure out how you want to be in the ring, but that opportunity has passed.

Today, you are given more of a challenging opponent—Peter.

“Oh no,” A voice says, you glance over your shoulder to see that Christina is limping her way over to Tris. Her face is fairly bruised from the beating she received from Molly yesterday. “At least you aren’t paired with Peter.”

Both of them look in your direction, and you accidentally lock eyes with Christina for a moment. You press your lips together in disgust and turn away, no longer interested in their conversation. You are not a member of Erudite anymore, but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop seeing you that way. Not until you prove to them that you’re not snot-nosed. 

You turn your attention to Peter, who’s got a good few inches on you. Which wouldn’t be an issue, much less have you worried, if he didn’t have the muscle he does. This fight could easily go two ways, but you have a feeling it’s leaning in his favor more than yours. 

“Maybe she can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious.” Al suggests loud enough for you to hear. “No one would blame her.”

You grit your teeth at the idea of taking the cowards way out, something that you won’t be doing, no matter how tempting it is. Even if it does work out in your favor, there’s no telling what Eric will do to you when he figures out that you’d faked it. While he made Christina hang from the chasm by her hands, he’d tell you to do something much worse. Or kick you out of initiation altogether for not having the Dauntless heart.

Which isn’t true. You belong here.

Fortunately, you and Peter are not the first fight of the day, it’s Edward and Molly. You might as well be, though. The pair of you are listed directly underneath them. You think that you’d even prefer being the first to go. If you could get it out of the way, you would.

As you mindlessly watch Edward and Molly, you try to pick out some of their moves to remember with Peter. Four had taught the group of you the basics to get started, he never said that you couldn’t mix in what you know as well. Which is nothing, because you’ve never got into a fight before. There was never a need to.

The personalization works out in Edward’s favor. The technique that Molly had used yesterday on Christina is fairly predictable. On top of that, she’s not fast enough to keep up with Edward’s pace. It’s only a matter of minutes before she’s beaten near-unconscious. That’s when Drew and Peter work together to peel her off of the wooden floor and to the nearest wall to recover.

In the short time you have, you take a couple of deep breaths, shaking your hands to rid the anxious energy that’s fueling your body. You make eye contact with Four briefly, and in this time, he gives you a solid nod. He’s confident in your abilities, more so than you are. It’s a shame that you’re probably going to let him down.

Still, you walk your way to the white circle, standing at one end of it while you wait for Peter. When he finally turns his attention to you,. There’s a smile spread across his face, 

“You okay there, Blowhard?” Peter teases, you can almost feel your eyes bulge out of your head at the nickname. “You look like you’re about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry.”

“Did you just call me a Blowhard?” You sputter out a laugh. “What does that make you, a Crybaby?”

You look past Peter, at Four, who’s standing side-by-side with Eric. His face is twisted, focused hard on the two of you in the ring. Eric, on the other hand, is tapping his foot quickly, impatience shining through.

Peter raises his hands by his face, elbows and knees bent as he begins to prepare for the fight. “Come on, (Y/n). Just one little tear. Maybe some begging.”

Without warning, you swing your leg at his side, intending to land a kick. He’s prepared for this, grabbing your ankle and yanking you forward, pulling you off balance. You land on your back, but quickly twist to get back to your feet, fists returning, readying yourself.

“Stop playing with her.” Eric suddenly snaps. “I don’t have all day.”

This is enough for Peter, as the amused look on his face disappears. His movement is one giant blur, but the pain in your jaw is sharp, as it continues to spread across your face. For a moment, bright white stars and a black void flow across your vision, taking your balance with it. 

You blink rapidly, backing away from Peter as you try to get the room to stop swaying. This lasts for a few seconds at most, because Peter is moving just as quickly as Edward had been. He appears in front of you, foot slamming into your stomach, stealing the air from your lungs. 

You clutch your ribs as you fight through the pain in your abdomen. Peter takes this as an invitation to come closer, but you’re expecting this. You catch his fist as you slide your foot between his legs, tripping him. Instead of falling forward, you throw him back, twisting his arm in the process.

You land on your knees hard. The dull pain is at the front of your thoughts for a second before you’ve got your first slamming into Peter’s nose. You get two hits in, then he takes a fistful of hair at the back of your head, yanking. He repays the favor by punching you in the nose.

It doesn’t matter how hard you kick or slap, because he’s got a tight grip. The next hit he lands is to your ribs, in the same place that you’d been holding onto moments prior. You open your mouth, letting out a strangled cry, and a metallic taste spreads over your tongue. One word comes to mind; blood.

He lets go of your hair, shoving you away. You land on your palms, gasping through your lips, eyes blurry with tears as you search the ground for the white paint. You begin to crawl away, wanting to put some distance between the two of you while you take a breath, but he grabs your ankle, dragging you back toward him.

He draws his foot back, and despite knowing what’s coming, you don’t move in time, letting the toe of his shoe sink into your skin. You cough, the next few seconds are agonizing as you forget how to breathe, like a fish out of water.

“That’s enough.” Four’s voice breaks through the silence. “Get her out.”

“She’s still moving.” Eric tells him. “She gets out when she can no longer go on.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you move to roll over. You won’t play pretend, you refuse to take the easy way out. You are not an Erudite anymore, you won’t run. You’re going to fight.

Somehow you manage to get to your feet, fists raised, eyes barely focusing on Peter long enough to keep track of him. You gather the blood in your mouth, spitting it at his feet.

“Come at me, you little bitch.” You murmur.

Peter flies across the circle, fist coming at your face. You manage to catch it with one hand, and with the other, you slap him with an open palm. The sound of skin-on-skin fills the air, there’s a few audible gasps in the room.

It’s over, you think. Just before Peter knocks your lights out.

When you come back to Earth, you’re suspended in the air, swaying from side to side. You’ve never been motion sick before, but the dizziness is so hard to handle that this is enough to send you over the edge.

“‘M gonna be sick.” You mutter.

The world stops moving for a second, and then you’re placed on your feet. Your hands reach for something to hold on to as support. They come into contact with another hand, which you wrap your fingers around tightly as your breakfast comes back up as a liquid.

When you’re done, you turn to face the person who had just been holding you in their arms. You’re met with Four, who has his eyebrows raised, waiting for you to say something.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For putting me down.” You breathe, leaning over with your hands on your knees. “And for trying to get me out of there. And for delaying my fight yesterday.”

When you look at him again, there’s a softer look on his face, different from the scowl that you’re used to seeing. He reaches over, rubbing a hand over your back. “It’s okay, (Y/n).”

“You could’ve gotten in trouble with Eric.” You say, shaking your head as you move to stand straighter. “Why do you sacrifice so much for me?”

Four opens his mouth, and then closes it. It’s silent between the two of you for a minute as he decides how he wants to respond. Or maybe he’s thinking that you’ll change the subject. With your persistence, he sighs.

“Because you’re different.” 

--

this was part of my 3k celeberation!!

[srygust]

MASTERLIST

-> All rights reserved to sryagust. Fanfic work created by me.

<3

BTS

-> bts masterlist

Tobias Eaton; Four

ONESHOTS

-> "Are you afraid?"

— [Following the Divergent movie] After learning your new result from the aptitude tests, Four wants you into his world to show you how to pass. He’s determined to make you pass.

[theblackhate]

TheBlackHate - Materialist

۵divergent

۵twilight

۵harry Potter

۵marvel

[kathonyprompts-fanfics]

four times kate finds anthony at dawn (and one time she almost loses him) by kathonysheart

Summary: Kate always runs into Anthony at dawn. But when the sun rises, they must always part ways. This time, it may be permanent.ORThe one where a gun misfires in the forest, and Anthony gets shot. (2x05 Canon Divergence)

Ao3 Link!

[chasingmidnights]

Psych 101

Title: Psych 101 

Summary: Trust the tests, that’s what your government tells you. And like any good citizen, you do what you’re told. But what happens when the tests don’t work on you? 

Warnings: claustrophobia; birds attacking; injection of a serum; feelings of anxiety; angst; I think those are the more major ones, I apologize if I miss anything but you are responsible for what you read. I just post here. 

Word Count: 2,603

Author’s Note: So, I kind of got inspired by a few different things for this story. I saw the trailer for “Don’t Worry Darling” and that’s where the wall smooshing you against the glass came from. And then the ravens mimicking people’s voices, kind of came from the mutts in the second Hunger Games movie. It’s just kind of all over the place where the inspiration came from. Also, I may have gotten carried away with this one. 

You lay on your cot and let out a sigh, behind it was a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Needless to say, you were glad that training was done for the day. Right after training, they released the names of the initiates who were moving on to the next stage of training. You instantly let out the breath that you had been holding when you saw your name above the red line. For a while there, you weren’t sure if you were going to make the cut. But you did, thankfully. You did not want to become factionless. 

“Come on, we should be out celebrating!” Chris whines, trying to convince the other what they should be doing. 

You prop yourself up onto your elbows as they make their way over to you. Tris and Chris sat on the cot opposite you while Will and Al stood behind them. 

“What’s going on guys?” You inquire, glancing between the group before you. 

“I’m trying to convince these troglodytes that we should be out celebrating but they’re being lame.” Christina replies, saying the last part dramatically. 

You couldn’t help the giggle that came out at Christina’s antics. You look over at Tris and she looks taken aback at her friend’s words. 

“And, I said that we would. I just wanted to make sure that we invited Y/n first before we started celebrating without her.” Tris defends herself, causing Chris to roll her eyes. 

“Yeah, and I agreed.” Will added, grabbing ahold of Chris’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. 

You swing your legs over the edge of your cot and sit up straight. “Alright, yeah, that actually sounds like fun. What were you guys thinking?” 

The four exchange glances with one another but it’s Christina who speaks up with an idea. “How about tattoos?” 

“Sure, I’m down.” You reply with a smile. 

A moment later, you found yourself in the tattoo shop located inside the Dauntless walls. Your group spread out through the shop and you perused the multiple images that the shop had to offer. You were looking at a tree of life image, when a familiar voice was whispering in your ear and their hands were on your hips. The action caused you to freeze slightly, you were still getting used to touches so intimate. Like Tris, you also transferred from Abnegation, so this whole exchange has been a bit of a culture shock to you both. 

“Is that what you’re getting?” He inquires, you can feel his warm breath on your earlobe. 

You clear your throat before you speak, hoping your voice sounds even. “Um, yeah, I was thinking about it. Do you like it?” Your stomach was doing flips as you waited for his answer. You hoped he would say yes. 

“Yeah, actually I do. You should get it here.” He replies, his voice deep and husky, sending a shiver up your spine. The shiver spreads throughout your body when you begin to feel his thumb caress your hip. 

You slowly nod your head as you reply. “Okay.” 

The next thing you know, he’s gone and you let out the breath you were holding in. You pick up the glass slate that the image was on and take it over to one of the artists. 

“I want this one.” You say confidently and him the glass slate. 

The next day, you found yourself with the other initiates being prepared for the next step of training. This stage was going to be all psychological, facing your worst fears. At least that’s what Four was saying as you did your best to concentrate. You often found yourself distracted whenever Four was speaking, you tended to focus on his lips. You imagined what they would feel like- no, focus Y/n. You need to prepare your mind for this next phase of training. But before you do, you glance over at Four and see that he’s holding the door open to a small testing room for the first initiate. You almost miss the smirk on his lips and you can feel your cheeks beginning to turn pink. It’s like he knew what you were thinking. 

One by one, you watched your fellow initiates walk into the small testing room. Each one of your fellow initiates came out with various expressions written all over their faces and bodies. Some looked as though all of their blood had been drained from their bodies and looked completely distraught. Others came out visibly shaken and weak-kneed, stumbling out of the room. A few of them needed assistance as they were unable to walk out on their own. Your nerves were on edge the longer you sat there and it didn’t help that every now and then you would hear a scream coming from behind the closed door. It was down to you and Tris, your leg started to bounce as you wondered who was going to be called next. Suddenly, the door swings open and out walks Al, his face drained of all color and he is stumbling out of the room. You look up to meet Four’s gaze as he glances between the two of you. The air is thick for a moment as he decides on who to pick next. 

“Tris, come with me.” Four says, in a stern voice. 

You and Tris exchange a look before she’s standing up and following Four into the test room. Suddenly, you’re alone and you feel even more anxious. You do your best to clear your mind and to concentrate but before you can get very far into your meditation, the door is opening back up. Tris is being let back out which surprises you, she must be the fastest time yet today. You look between the pair before meeting Tris’s gaze and she just shrugs at you nonchalantly before walking away. You look back at Four and for a brief moment, he looks annoyed but then he looks at you and his expression softens. 

“Y/n, if you’ll come with me.” He says your name in a different tone than he had everyone else’s instantly giving you butterflies. 

You stand up and walk into the small testing room, your nerves suddenly on fire. You were anxious of what the fear simulation might show you. Would it be something that you already knew about yourself, like your fear of heights? Or would it be something you didn’t know about yourself? Four leads you over to a chair, one you might find in like a dentist office and you take a seat in it. A comfortable silence fills the room as you watch Four prepare everything in order for you to begin your training. You can’t help but admire how focused he is at the moment and you pull in your bottom lip with your teeth. 

“So, did you get it?” His question throws you off for a moment. 

“Oh! You mean the tattoo. Um, yeah, I got it.” You can feel the blush forming on your cheeks, tinting them pink. 

When he finally turns around, he looks you up and down before walking over to you, carrying an injector with him. He brushes some hair away from your neck and the action heats up our skin. “Where’d you get it?” 

You can feel his eyes scanning your body, searching for the new tattoo. You’re not sure what takes over you but you lift up your shift a little bit from the bottom to reveal the tree of life tattoo on your hip. You look over at him and you see him staring at the fresh ink. “So, do you like it?” 

He clears his throat before he’s looking directly at you, a soft smile appearing on his face. “Yeah, I do.” There’s a brief moment of heavy silence as you two gaze at each other, the tension thick between the two of you. “Alright, so you’re gonna feel a slight pinch in your neck when I inject the serum. Once injected, you’ll be taken into your fear simulation. You’ll face your worst fears in there, you’ll need to face them in order to beat them. So, just take in a few deep breaths for me and try to relax. You got this.” 

Four then gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze as you turn slightly away from him, taking in deep breaths like he suggested. Next thing you know, there’s a pinch in your neck and you were being pulled into unconsciousness. When you wake up, you find yourself in a long hallway. As you look around, your face scrunches up in confusion and you begin to wonder where you are. The place almost gave you a sense of familiarity but you couldn’t quite place it. You peer down the hallway and you can’t help feeling suspicious. One side of the hallway was decorated in a light wood paneling on the walls and the opposite was glass, from ceiling to floor. The floor was made of the same light wood color of the wall but in a parquet style. Your instincts are screaming at you to not go down the hallway but you push them to the side. You needed to figure out where you were and how to get out of here. You cautiously begin to walk down the hallway, you don’t like how quiet the place is causing a shiver to run through your body. The quietness gives this whole situation an added eeriness and you don’t like it. Goosebumps begin to form all over your body, something feels off. About halfway down the hallway, you stopped to look out the glass window and your mouth dropped open at what you saw. Before you was a beautiful, lush forest and you couldn’t help but stop to admire the scene in front of you. 

While you’re admiring the view in front of you, you hear gears beginning to turn and click, causing you to search for where the sound is coming from. When you figure out that the sound is coming from the wall behind you, your eyes widen in shock. The wall is now moving towards you and at a steady pace. You try to move your feet but they seem to be glued to the floor. You begin to feel yourself starting to panic, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. How were you going to get out of this? You were trapped and you were going to die in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t long before you were pressed up against the glass window, breathing heavily as you tried to figure your way out. You’re looking out of the glass window, looking out at the forest when your reflection catches your attention. Your reflection is looking right at you when it should be the same way your face is, which is turned to the side. There’s a stern look on your face and you can’t help but squint at yourself. 

“This isn’t real.” Your reflection reminds you. 

How could you forget so easily? Your reflection was right, this isn’t real. Next thing you know, you’re walking through the glass and into the forest. You look behind you and the building that you were once in is now gone and you’re completely surrounded by thick oak trees. Someone screaming your name catches your attention and you listen for the person to scream again. As you wait, all you can hear is the rustling of the wind. Then it happens again but this time you recognize the voice, your mom. She sounds like she’s in trouble or in pain. You run as fast as you can to find her and as you keep running, you hear someone else scream your name. This time it was your dad’s voice that you heard but it was in another direction. Your breathing begins to labor as you stand there waiting for another scream to occur. Suddenly, a raven swoops down in front of your face, one of its wings barely missing your face as it does. A swarm of them are now surrounding you, each one sounding like a person that you care about. Your parents. Your brother. Christina. Tris. Will. Al. And you even start to hear a mimic of Four’s voice. They all sound like they’re in pain and you can’t handle it anymore. You fall to the ground and are crouched on your knees, curling into yourself as the ravens continue to fly and swarm around you, screaming your name. As you sit there, you begin to feel them start to peck and scratch at you causing you to flinch every time. You close your eyes tight, hoping it would do the trick to get them to go away. 

All of a sudden, you’re gasping for air and bolting forward in a chair and you’re back in the testing room with Four. Four had rushed over to you, trying to comfort you. You did feel comforted, especially with his big, strong arms wrapped around you. You feel his chin rest gently on top of your head and you close your eyes at the feeling and lean into him. 

“How long do you think you were in there for?” Four asks, pulling away slightly to look at you. You bite back a whimper from slipping past your lips at the loss of contact. 

You look up at him and can see that his gears were turning in his head. “Um, I don’t know. Twenty minutes or something like that. Why? How long was I in there for?” 

Four steps over to the computer and took a seat on the stool. “You were in there for barely two minutes.”

You stare at him in disbelief and get up from the chair, feeling the urge to pace. “No, that’s not right.” 

Four let out a sigh. “How did you walk through the glass like that?” 

You stop in your tracks and look over at him. You shrug your shoulders as you keep eye contact with him, you feel your palms begin to sweat. “I don’t know, I just did.” Please believe it. 

He crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his gaze at you. Crap, he doesn’t believe you. “What were your test results?” 

You tilt your head in confusion. “Excuse me?” 

“Your test results, what were they?” He asks, a little more forceful and within a few strides, he’s in front of you. 

You want to be honest with him and tell him that they were inconclusive but you were told not to tell anyone. “I-um-” All you can do is stammer as you try to reply. 

“You can trust me Y/n. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Four says reassuringly, placing his hands on your hips. 

You take a deep breath and hope you don’t regret telling him. “Inconclusive.” 

“So, you’re divergent too then?” he inquires, even though you’re pretty sure he already knows the answer. 

“Yes.” You look down after answering him. 

He lifts your head back up by placing his index and thumb on your chin and keeping them there for longer than necessary. “Hey, I’ll help you get through this, no one else will find out.” 

Saying that you were divergent out loud to someone lifted a huge weight off of your shoulders. You were relieved that Four was so accepting, especially since he was one too. It made this whole situation that much better. For once you had hope and that maybe there was a chance. If Four could make it this far with being deviant, then maybe you could too.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity Masterlist

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

series status: ongoing

“serendipity is the phenomenon of discovering something interesting or valuable by chance”

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18. and bellatrix isn't mattheo's mother in this fic (just fyi)

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

general warning(s): 18+ content, angst, fluff, some canon compliance, some canon divergence, typical wizarding world violence, war, torture, drugging, hospitals, familial problems, mean!harry, mean!ron....

** indicates smut warning

~∞~ chapter one

chapter summary: on the trainride to your sixth year, your friends give you a proposition that you can't refuse.

~∞~ chapter two

chapter summary: it's your first day back as a sixth year student. Classes are more intense and your first lesson with Mattheo ensues.

~∞~ chapter three

chapter summary: the first Hogsmeade trip of the year has a rather unpleasant ending.

~∞~ chapter four

chapter summary: after you end up confined to the Hospital Wing, you're surprised when Professor Dumbledore pays you a visit.

~∞~ chapter five

chapter summary: Mattheo has been avoiding you. You find and confront him after a frustrating week.

~∞~ chapter six **

chapter summary: the growing tension between you and Mattheo snaps. He reveals something about yourself that you has scarcely any prior knowledge of.

~∞~ chapter seven

chapter summary: joyful dinner parties and a switch in point of view. Two juxtaposing starts to the christmas holidays.

~∞~ chapter eight **

chapter summary: you're given plenty of revelations: all equally as daunting as the other.

~∞~ chapter nine

chapter summary: Ginny ambushes you in the library and Ron's birthday is off to a delirious start.

~∞~ chapter ten

chapter summary: in the aftermath of Ron's poisoning, Harry learns a thing or two about where your loyalties lie when he overhears your private conversation with the headmaster.

~∞~ chapter eleven

chapter summary: intent on avoiding him, you underestimate just how desperate Mattheo is to be around you.

~∞~ chapter twelve

chapter summary: new friendships are formed and you finally learn to control your abilities. Mattheo comes to a life altering realisation.

~∞~ chapter thirteen **

chapter summary: idk how to summarise this but i will say it's pure smut...enjoy

~∞~ chapter fourteen

chapter summary: friendships are rekindled and you save Draco from certain death in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, igniting your powers in the process.

~∞~ chapter fifteen

chapter summary: now fully recovered, Draco has a task to complete. The fate of the Wizarding World hangs in the precipice of his actions.

~∞~ chapter sixteen

chapter summary: after a startling and gutting discovery. secrets are revealed and alliances are questioned as Voldemort's tyranny begins to fester into the beginnings of another war.

~∞~ chapter seventeen

chapter summary: Dumbledore's funeral reveals new allies as you navigate a world without its protector.

~∞~ chapter eighteen (coming soon!!)

series oneshots/headcannons:

~∞~ tulips & starlight – valentines day drabble

~∞~ serendipity hcs (mattheo) – a glimpse at his life pre sixth year

~∞~ invisible string – bonus scene from chapter 16 **

series taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag, reblogs of the individual posts have an extended taglist)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

[endlessthxxghts]

Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 

“Din?” you called out softly. 

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 

Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

[heliads]

Heyy can I get Four x fem!reader, where four can see sher struggling and offers some private lessons, you can take it from there xo

as a fic writer, i love taking it from there (xo)

masterlist

Four is not particularly suited to kindness. He never has been. That’s part of why he never fit in with the other Abnegation, after all; his inability to carve away pieces of himself to give to others stuck out like a sore thumb. That, and the fact that he hated their two-faced duplicity with a passion so burning that it left him choking on the smoke. 

He’s always figured that even if he was Divergent, even if he contained multitudes of other factions within him, he never once showed a shred of Amity, either. Kindness, generosity, none of these have ever described Four. He certainly shouldn’t be wishing for it now. 

Yet, when he looks across the Dauntless training room, which is strewn with the fighting figures of initiation’s latest round of transfers, he doesn’t feel that usual call to apathy. Not now, at least. Four had supposed it would come later, when the initial interest of new faces had worn off and he was left with irritation prickling under his skin, that fidgety sort of feeling he gets when people refuse to do what’s good for them.

Four has never been the most patient, even if he is forced to play the long game of waiting and hiding due to his status as a Divergent. It makes him insufferable, or so he’s been told. Usually, Four just assumes he’s better off alone and not reaching out to anyone. Fewer secrets are shared when no one knows about them in the first place.

That doesn’t explain why he’s ignoring that favored precept of his in favor of staring at one of the initiates yet again. Four tells himself that he doesn’t do favorites, that he treats all of the trainees with the same blunt criticism and harsh words. It makes it easier that way. He once knew a few instructors who would place bets on their favorites, but they always ended up losing more than their money when their chosen trainees didn’t make the cut.

Dauntless may not be a place that encourages its pupils to choose safety over fun, but Four always betrayed that particular principle while leading initiation. He’s only been at it for a year or two, he can’t afford any screw ups now. That’s why he would do well to ignore that one initiate in the corner. It would be his best choice, but for some reason, it’s the one path he refuses to travel.

As if Four has ever been known for his rational thought. There’s a reason he’s not in Erudite, after all, why he scorned every faction one after another until he could only ever end up here in Dauntless. Dauntless, where at last he’s the one in power, where he’ll risk his life again and again because at least in this faction people wear their hatred firmly on their sleeves instead of hiding it behind some ambiguous political game.

Perhaps Four isn’t one for politicking, then, but that’s no surprise. He does what he pleases, he likes who he likes, and when Y/N L/N happens to glance up at him when she finishes a round in the fighting ring, she doesn’t look remotely shocked to see him looking at her again. No one is, but then again, no one notices Four’s attention except Y/N herself.

Y/N is a transfer. Y/N is an initiate. Y/N is the one person that Four really should be avoiding, but can’t seem to manage it. He doesn’t know what it is about her that keeps calling his interest back to her again and again like the snap of a hypnotist’s fingers, but his heart refuses to explain. His head has tried to make amends, but his heart keeps on traitorously beating, still seeking her out after every time Four promises himself he won’t trust that magnetic pull to her again.

She never follows up on his attention, which makes her better than him, at least. She knows the rules. She’s also a little bit afraid of him, Four thinks, which hurts him more than it should. Y/N seems to be frightened of nothing in this world but him, and that is why he can’t bear to look away. Should he glance over at her once and find her willing to stand near him, maybe he would be able to guide his breathing back to a normal state, his heartbeat to return to rest once more.

It has yet to happen, however, and Four thinks he knows why. See, he knows what he thinks when he encounters Y/N, the curious storm of emotions all centrally positive that linger around his heart, but she has absolutely no idea of that. She wouldn’t, because whenever Y/N looks at Four or any other Dauntless training instructor, she thinks not of them as people but as physical manifestations of her initiation rank. Her rank, which happens to be pretty damn close to failing.

In all his time in this world, all his experience with heroes and cowards, fighters and thinkers, Four has no idea why Y/N’s rank should be that low. He knows what his eyes see, of course; fights lost, punches not thrown, but it makes no sense to him. Four is accustomed to the dropouts of Dauntless initiation, the ones who would rather go live with the factionless than stick through training. They’re nothing like Y/N, not in the slightest.

Those kids, those unwanted former initiates, they’re afraid. All of them, they’re afraid. Terrified to throw a punch for fear of bruising their knuckles, hesitant to step in a ring lest they take more hits than they dole out. They lose before they even try, but that’s not Y/N.

Y/N is brave, like he said. Braver than Four, probably. He would love to see her fear landscape if she could manage to make it past the first round of initiation. It would probably be pretty close to empty, what from the way she stares down even the most dangerous threats without a blink of an eye. Four has a brief terror that he might open her fear landscape just for it to hold him and nothing else, but he forces that thought away just as quickly. He doesn’t know that. Nobody does.

Y/N is brave, and that’s what makes this so hard. If she had half the spirit that she does, if she flinched away from every blow like the others, Four could brush her off like the other trainees. She would blend into the crowds, and he would go throughout his life without this trial of conscience that he’s undergoing now.

That’s not the case, however. Instead, Four looks at her and he sees the strength of Dauntless, the bravery, the need to get ahead. Y/N should be at the top of the rankings, but she isn’t. Four has a theory for that, though. Despite the fact that Dauntless loves to pride itself as the equalizer, that its initiation lets anyone from any background succeed, that simply isn’t the case. At the end of the day, trainees with more experience will pick up skills far faster, and that means they’ll always win.

That’s why cruel Candor and Erudite manage to make the transition so well. Y/N lacks that experience, and so although she’s learning things at an excellent rate, she can’t beat the prior knowledge of the others. Four remembers one time in which she’s been struggling with knife throwing. He had given her one hint and just like that, she was hitting the bullseye every time.

If Four wants to keep Y/N around a while longer, that’s what it’s going to take. More of that advice, more of that help. Y/N has the ability to change this faction just like him. Four just has to make sure that she makes it through initiation long enough to make that work.

Four isn’t supposed to have favorites. He does, it’s her. That’s why, despite days of him telling himself that he won’t get involved, he finds himself making up his mind. Still facing torment in his own head, Four drops by the training room later that evening, hoping some time alone with a punching bag and his own bruised knuckles will clear up his mind.

When he opens the door and sees Y/N there still, practicing her hits, he knows then and there that he has no choice. Four walks briskly through the training hall until he’s by her side. He watches her form for a few moments more; she knows he’s there, he can tell by the stiffness of her shoulders, her guard is already up.

He speaks at last, words echoing around the spacious room. “Punch more from your own strength. You’re pushing the bag, you don’t want to do that. Snap your fist forward instead.”

Four demonstrates with one quick hit. Y/N nods, mirroring him. Four has to bite back a smile. The change is immediate. A voice in the back of his head tells him that if he just stayed a little longer, helped a little more, she’d become a better fighter overnight. It’s not hard to convince himself to linger by her side.

“Good,” he murmurs, “now, try hitting with more combinations. Four hits instead of two. You’ll disorient your opponent.”

Once again, Y/N does as he says, and once again, she does it perfectly. That’s another problem with initiation, Four thinks, it’s impossible to help every student as much as they need, what with the incoming class of transfers growing so rapidly every year.

Y/N practices a while longer, then relents, taking a step back and giving Four a quizzical look. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I appreciate the tips, but I don’t think you do this for every initiate.”

“I don’t,” Four confirms, “maybe I just want to see you win tomorrow. Is that such a surprise?”

Judging by the expression on her face, the answer would be yes. “Last time I checked, you were supposed to make sure everyone had an even playing field. I didn’t think private punching lessons were included in that.”

Four has to try his utmost to smother a laugh. “They’re not. Still, I wanted to.”

“You wanted to,” Y/N repeats contemplatively, “what, you got tired of seeing me get my ass kicked all the time? I know you watch my rounds more than the others, that must be it.”

Four swats her gently on the shoulder. He’s just as surprised about it as she is; nothing they’ve done has brought them close enough for soft friendship. Still, it feels right. Maybe that means something.

“Self-pity doesn’t treat you right,” he says, “I like it better when you’re walking around like you own the place. Sometimes I think you do.”

Y/N laughs. “And melodrama has never been your strong suit. I think I like it, though.”

Four likes it too. He raises a brow, inviting her sarcastic remarks once more. “Does that mean you’ll allow the lessons to continue? You won’t keep pushing me away with your own disbelief?”

“I’m still debating,” Y/N retorts, but she’s grinning and that makes it much better.

Four leaves the punching bag, not her; he walks to the ring instead. Climbing easily up, he extends an arm for Y/N to join him. She takes his hand without a second’s hesitation, and Four has to fight all parts of himself to hide the swarm of warmth that cloaks his insides when he realizes her fear of him is gone, if it was ever truly there at all. Perhaps he was just looking for excuses to stay away, knowing nothing would work for long.

Y/N puts up her fists, interrupting his musing. “So? Are we fighting or not?”

“Of course we are,” Four says, getting into his own opening stance.

After that, he loses himself in the even rhythm of punches and kicks, blows and strikes. Sometimes he calls out tips and tricks, other times he lets Y/N learn from what works well and what doesn’t. Even after the night ends, when their strength gives out and they both walk away with new bruises and old grins, Four knows one thing for certain:  this is not the end of Y/N’s time in Dauntless, nor her time with him. No, their story is just starting. It is one that he looks forward to with all his heart.

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @ilovexavierthrope

[cloudcountry]

proper compensation

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!

Summary: Leona and Jamil went chasing Grim around Styx and got him back to you safely. It's only fair you offer them proper compensation.

Author's Comments: this was inspired by a dialogue part between leona and jamil during the phantom node searching in chapter 67 sector eight. i was so inspired that i wrote a four page oneshot for it for some reason. this might have made me a jamil stan. i dont know how all this ends because i havent finished it yet so this might be canon divergent (it probably is) so dont kill me please OKAY THANK YOU

~~~~~

There’s a knock on Ramshackle’s front door in the late hours of the afternoon. After everything that happened at Styx, you refused to let Grim out of your sight, and that includes leaving him to answer the door. He’s been unusually tired, content to accept your affection and sleep in your arms, happy and safe with the person he trusts. You hold him gently as you stand up, walking towards the door. You manage to stoop over just enough to get it open, and you’re met with the sight of two familiar people.

“Can I help you?” you ask, raising a confused brow. You don’t normally see Jamil and Leona together like this, much less together here.

“We got you back your furball.” Leona grunts, waving dismissively at the cat monster curled up in your arms, “It’s perfectly reasonable to compensate us for the return.”

“Indeed.” Jamil smiles, but there’s something so ingenuine about it that you can’t help but shiver.

“I…don’t have any money.” you fumble, trying to think up something to give them, “I can…do chores? Or something?”

You doubt they would accept your dusty furniture, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned from people at NRC, it's that everything comes with a price, and you best pay it in full if you don’t want to get screwed over.

“Nah. I got Ruggie. I don’t need another errand runner.” Leona shakes his head, looking more and more like a predator as the seconds pass.

“I can handle my chores myself. Make no mistake, I’m used to taking care of Kalim.” Jamil steps closer, reaching out to touch your hand, “Come on now, Prefect. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

You’re pretty sure you have figured it out, even if it seems like you haven’t. Because if they don’t want to exploit you like Azul did, they probably want what Ace usually begs for when he does something right (although he detests the word beg.)

“I…think I have an idea.” you confess, gnawing at your lower lip, “Just…let me put down Grim. He fell asleep in my arms and-”

“Oh, please. Allow me.” Jamil swoops his arms under Grim and plucks him out of your arms as easily as yanking a flower out of the grass. You yelp and gape at the boy as he waltzes into Ramshackle without a care in the world.

Like he owns the place.

Sneaky.

“What’s your idea then, herbivore?” Leona snickers, leaning against the doorframe like he also owns the place, “I would love to hear it.”

“Um…would you guys accept kisses as compensation?” you say, wrinkling your nose at just how stupid it sounds when you say it out loud.

Leona lets out a barking laugh, throwing his head back and all. You feel even more embarrassed now, taking his amusement as rejection.

“Oh, you’re smarter than you look.” he huffs, voice thick with amusement, “You nailed it, herbivore. Now are you going to pay up or not?”

You can feel your face growing warm as he leans in, eyes staring straight into your soul as if this doesn’t affect him one bit. Was he so used to teasing and moments like this that they didn’t even phase him anymore? Or were you just a flustered fool, dancing in the palm of his hand?

You ultimately decide that if it means receiving affection from him, you don’t care.

And so you allow him to brush his nose over your cheek, and you allow his breath to fan over your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation. He laughs at that, too, his hot breath only making you more and more anxious.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” you grumble, furrowing your brow with your eyes still clamped shut.

“Aww, do you want a kiss?” Leona teases, and you’re about to yell at him when he follows up with a quiet, “Well, fine then.”

And then he’s kissing you.

Your back is pressed against the doorframe as he cradles you against him. His hands are placed securely at your waist as he tilts his head, pushing against you as he searches for more, more. Your head is spinning with it all, and you’re certain if Leona wasn’t holding you up you’d be crumpled over on your doorstep right now. There’s a clear smugness in his movements, especially when he hooks a hand under your thigh and pulls it up. Your face could not be any warmer than it is right now, especially when he squeezes the flesh gently and his claws rake against your skin.

He breaks away and you gasp, the sound soft and bewildered. You brush your fingers along your lower lip, and even though it feels like it's burning it doesn’t burn.

Leona gazes at you, his expression so smug you have half a mind to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face, but then he turns on his heel and starts walking away,

“Well, that’s enough for me.” he yawns as if he didn’t just kiss you breathless (like a satisfied predator), “See ya around, herbivore. Thanks for the compensation.”

You manage to call out a shaky goodbye to him in your shock, mind still reeling and unorganized from the kiss. Why can’t anyone on this campus be predictable?! Never in a million years did you think Leona and-

Wait, Jamil. He didn’t leave.

You were so distracted by Leona that you forgot about Jamil and the fact that he basically shouldered his way into your dorm.

He’s still around here somewhere (unless he’s jumped out of a window, which is too much of a Kalim thing to do so you dispel the thought with a giggle.)

Great Seven, you’re not even close to being recovered from what just happened, but there’s no use delaying the inevitable. You make your way to you and Grim’s bedroom, hoping Jamil didn’t just dump him somewhere. Surely he’s responsible enough to not do that, right?

You discover that he does know where Grim’s bed is. Grim is still fast asleep, tucked away in his bed. You laugh again to yourself as you realize that Jamil probably still has the layout of Ramshackle memorized from when he stayed over during SDC.

“Yes, he’s fine. I made sure he didn’t wake up.” Jamil says from behind you, and you jump at the unexpected noise. Spinning around to glare at him (though the expression holds no malice), you jolt backward when you see just how close he is. He rolls his eyes at your mock annoyance and jerks his head to the left. He’s holding a tray of tea and snacks in his hands, and while the gesture would be nice from almost anyone else, you figure he’s going to use this against you later.

You enter your bedroom anyway. Jamil follows you silently and sets the tray of treats on your nightstand.

“Do you want the same thing as Leona?” you ask, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Jamil makes a quiet huffing sound under his breath but doesn’t answer your question. You let him pour the tea and hand you a teacup, and watch him as he pours a cup of tea for himself. You don’t want to push too hard, but he was the one that came to you in the first place.

“Jamil.” you say softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek, “You said you wanted compensation but all you’ve done is help me out. I need to pay you back, right?”

His eyes flicker toward you, and he sighs.

“I don’t want what Leona wants, Prefect. I was just teasing you earlier.” he mumbles, shutting his eyes as if he’s exhausted (which he probably is), “I would like to rest here with you. That’s all.”

Your mouth forms an o shape as you realize that no, the tea and snacks were not to trap you in yet another favor, but were meant to be part of your favor to him. There’s a stab of guilt in your stomach, and you swallow it uncomfortably.

“I thought the tea and snacks were for another favor you wanted paid back.” you confess, fisting your hands in your lap, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be.” his tired expression turns wicked in a split second, his eyes gleaming with mischief, “I plan to take up more of your time than Leona did. This is me paying you back.”

“That’s too many transactions.” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on his upper arm, “Just come here. “

Jamil follows your lead and clambers into bed, the springs squeaking under the extra weight. You’ve done well to keep your voice low for Grim, so much so that Jamil’s heavy sigh is the loudest sound that's been made in the room by either of you this afternoon. He slumps over against your shoulder, the top of his head bumping against your chin as his shoulders sag. You feel your heart twinge in your chest as you wrap a steady arm around him and rest your head on him, too.

You certainly wouldn’t mind if either of them wanted to do this again.

[l2vedive]

CITY OF ANGELS w. lee heeseung

inspired by la la land + slight angst (511)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

note: this is a part of an actual long fic i'm writing but i decided to post it as an individual oneshot and as an excuse to post smth LOL hope you enjoy !!! pls lmk by reblogging and liking ><

in the dynamic world of the korean music industry, you stand at the precipice of your solo debut as yn, surrounded by a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. the practice room buzzes with energy as your team of managers and staff work tirelessly, preparing for the big day.

suddenly, the door swings open, and in strides heeseung—your first love, your first supporter, and the one who broke your heart four long years ago. his presence fills the room with a tumultuous mix of emotions, stirring up memories you thought you had buried deep.

heeseung, now a successful choreographer, has been assigned to mentor you for your debut. but he has no idea that you, yn, are the artist he's been tasked to work with. your management has kept your true identity hidden, adding another layer of complexity to your already tangled history.

after a brief introduction from your staff and managers, the room empties, leaving you and heeseung alone in a charged silence, the weight of your unresolved past hanging heavy between you like a thick fog.

"congratulations," you both start simultaneously, the words feeling heavy and laden with unspoken emotions. your eyes meet briefly and a laugh spills out. endearment. nostalgia. his laugh's melody was always your favourite song.

heeseung takes a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of recognition. "are you ready to start?" he asks, his voice strained with the weight of what remains unspoken between you.

you meet his gaze, your heart aching with the memories of what used to be. "always," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

and so, you dive into the dance practice, the music wrapping around you like a bittersweet melody. every movement, every touch, is laced with the ghost of your past—a past filled with laughter, tears, and the echoes of a love that was never meant to be.

as you dance, you can feel heeseung's eyes on you, his gaze lingering on the curve of your smile, the arch of your back. subtle touches and longing glances pass between you, speaking volumes of the words left unsaid.

in those fleeting moments, you both linger on what used to be, on the love that once burned bright between you. but as the music fades and the dance comes to an end, you're left with the harsh reality of the present—a reality where your paths have diverged, and your hearts remain forever entwined in the bittersweet melody of what could have been.

"i've missed this," heeseung admits softly, breaking the silence as he offers you a wistful smile.

you nod, your heart aching with the weight of his words. "me too," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

but amidst the ache of your past, there's a flicker of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, the music of your shared history will lead you to a new beginning. and as you exchange one final glance with heeseung, there's a silent agreement between you—a promise of what could be, if only you're brave enough to reach for it.

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

© l2vedive on tumblr

[skiiyoomin]

hi!! can we have an m jealousy fic with tobias eaton from divergent please <3 thank you!!

Hii, sorry for the late reply! I hope you enjoy this :))

p.s it might be a little crusty cause its been a while since I read the books BUT i still hope you enjoy it!

warnings: jealous Tobias, smut!! possessive Tobias

RULES !!

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

REQUESTS: OPEN

NAVIGATION

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

Summary: When a new Dauntless initiate gets a little too close, Tobias takes things into his own hands.

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

You're mine | Tobias Eaton

His eyes continuously drifted towards your figure, a scowl etched deep onto his skin as you laughed, clutching your stomach.

Tobias loved your laugh, it was the sound that made his heart swell, the cause of his love struck smile. But those were the last things he felt at the moment, because he wasn't the reason for that laugh. Instead, it was one of the new initiates in Dauntless, a young boy with a charm that had girls and boys all over him.

While you and Tobias were in charge of training said initiates, he had seemed to take a liking towards you, often hanging around you during your training sessions, asking for advice as a way to get close to you, and more often than not, trying to lead the conversations to something more than just trainer to trainee.

Tobias was far from insecure about your relationship, but he couldn't help but feel his nerves rise each time he saw the younger boy move a tad bit too close for his liking, his dashing smile widening every time he pulled even the smallest of smiles from you.

While you weren't extremely open about your relationship, it was clear you were together. Now the boy either didn't know or didn't care. Of course, Tobias was too prideful to admit he was jealous of him, he'd rather kiss Eric than admit it out loud. However, he truly didn't need to say anything for anyone to know he was envious. The deep scowl and deadly glare were a dead give away.

But, the boy was oblivious to the sharp pair of eyes on the back of his head. He continued pushing his luck, using his smooth words to sway you. You, on the other hand, merely snorted at his attempts, finding them more entertaining than alluring. Unlike him, you weren't unaware of the eyes inspecting you, you didn't have to turn around to know it was Tobias. You knew the second the boy got too close he'd be jealous, hence the reason why you never put a stop to his flirting. Smirking to yourself, you counted down the minutes until your boyfriend would snap.

Almost as if on cue, you heard the loud stomping of boots on the hard ground of the wide room. You felt a large calloused hand snake around your waist, the tall figure of Tobias standing next to you, his glare burning into the initiate, making the boy cower in fear.

"Last time I checked flirting with my girlfriend wasn't part of the training. If I didn't know any better i'd think you're trying to get kicked out of Dauntless"

The younger stammered, fear and shock stopping his ability to speak. Finally he managed to mumble a loud sorry, scurrying away almost immediately. You watched the whole ordeal go down with an amused smile on your lips. As you looked up at him, you spoke with a teasing tone in your voice.

"Geez, you didn't have to be so harsh you know"

However, you were answered with silence as Tobias took your wrist and led you down the familiar halls of the compound. Soon enough you were in front of your shared apartment door. Swiftly, Tobias unlocked it, gently pushing you in and leading you towards your king sized bed. Without any words said, he pressed his lips to yours. As you broke from the kiss, he softly pushed you down until you were sprawled on the mattress, looking up at him with those eyes. The eyes that have him weak in the knees, the eyes that has his cock twitching in his pants.

He once again kissed you, this time with much more fervor and eagerness. Soon after, he trailed his kisses down your jaw, kissing the spots he knew had you gasping and squirming underneath him. "I'm gonna show everyone exactly who you belong to" He mumbled against your neck, before suckling the soft flesh, a purple mark appearing almost immediately.

The intensity of the moment had you both quickly removing your clothes until you were both left in nothing but your underwear. Tobias continued to leave a trail of hickeys until he reached the hem of your panties. Before you knew it, they joined the piles of clothes on the floor, leaving you completely bare underneath his lustful gaze. "So beautiful" he whispered, making a pinkish blush spread across your cheeks at the sudden praise.

Tobias lowered his boxers, his hard dick springing out, slapping his toned abdomen. He gripped your hips, lifting you up slightly until you you were aligned with his long length. Without wasting a second, he pushed into your tight hole, groaning at the feeling of your plush walls against his cock. He thrusted back in with a roughness that had you throwing your head back in pleasure. He fell into a quick and rough pace, slamming with a force that had your brain go fuzzy from the pleasure. You moaned incoherent words as he quickened his pace, your nails scratching down his back, leaving marks that were sure to be there for days. Tobias hissed in both pleasure and pain.

He lifted your legs onto his shoulders allowing him to thrust deeper until he was slamming into your g-spot. Your back arched as your jaw hung open forming a loud moan that was sure to be heard from miles away. Not long after, you felt the familiar tightness in your stomach, signaling your close release.

"F-fuck fuck Tobias, i-i'm gonna cum"

He grunted in response, feeling his own orgasm reaching its climax. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head, a flash of white blinding your vision as you reached your high, your legs shaking involuntarily. Tobias continued slamming into you before his own release pulled him over the edge, his load of cum shooting inside your soft wall, spilling down your aching hole once he pulled out.

Pants filled the room as you both came down from.your high until you caught your breaths. He leaned down, pressing a much softer kiss in comparison to before. A few moments after, he pulled away, your lips centimeters from each other. He looked deep into your eyes before saying "You're mine, never forget that"

[taylorxtiva]

A list of all my Tiva fanfics

Author: Whoa_MyNinja

Read them all on A03!

I Run to You

Summary: When Ziva has a nightmare about Somalia, there is only one person that she wants to run to, much to the annoyance of Ray. But it was different with Tony. It was always different.

Set some time in the middle of season 8.

TW: Mentions r*pe and violence. Nothing graphic or detailed.

Fond Farewell

Summary: We had a connection, and obviously a very fond farewell..." Tony told Tim, as they sat on the bench overlooking the park, with Tali in her stroller.

My take on the 'fond farewell" between Tony and Ziva in 11x02, that led to... well.. you know...

The Oceans We Cross

Summary: Tony and Ziva are perfectly happy living their safe, domestic life in Paris with their daughter, Tali. But, when one of their own gets gravely injured protecting Director Vance, everything changes. Before they know it, they're on a plane to Washington DC, being dragged back into a life they thought they'd left behind.

From old friends and foes, to danger and desperation, they are reminded of all the sacrifices they have made... and of all the oceans we cross for the ones we love.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Summary: It was finally over. Ziva David was finally free. And it was time for her to return to her family.

A post 17x11 fic, of the reunion we all deserved but never got.

‘Couldn’t live without you, I guess.’

Summary: f there was ever a time and place to tell someone you loved them (albeit, cryptically), then while you’re bound to a chair, and pumped full of truth serum in the middle of the Somalian desert while rescuing said someone, would be it.

The Chain

Summary:

Set between 7x09 "Child's Play" and 7x10 "Faith".

Tony gives Ziva a thoughtful gift for Hanukkah.

Friends Don’t

Summary: Songfic. "Friends Don't" by Maddie & Tae.

'Friends don't call you in the middle of the night, couldn't even tell you why, they just felt like saying hi. Friends don't stand around playing with their keys, finding reasons not to leave, trying to hide the chemistry. Drive a little too slow, take the long way home, get a little too close, we do, but friends don't.'

My Whole Heart

Summary: Ziva tells Abby about her feelings for Tony. Inspired by the scene between Tony and Abby in 13x34.

Here to Stay

Summary: Ziva has finally reunited with Tony and Tali in Paris. But anxiety is still her enemy. His, doubt. And now they're together – what does it mean? What does it mean for them to be a real couple? After everything they've been through together, can their love withstand the storm?

Set in 2019, after 17x11.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: Senior is in town for Christmas, and he's very surprised that his son and his girlfriend are... well, not a couple. So he thinks it's time to do something about it.

Set during 10x10, "You Better Watch Out".

Part canon, part AU.

From A to Z (oneshots)

Summary: NCIS contains four letters of the alphabet... but what about the rest?

From A to Z contains one-shots, drabbles, and short fics for every letter of the alphabet, centering around our favourite MCRT team.

May also feature occasional appearances from the special ops team in LA! Quite Tiva-centric, but also featuring other couples too! Canon and headcanon. Some canon divergence, AU, 'fix-it' fics.

Stakeouts, Secrets, and Other Simple Things (SSAOST)

Summary:

Rule 100: You don't keep secrets from the people you love, unless it's a matter of life or death.

One blood test.

One secret.

One family.

When a blood test reveals some life-changing news, will it bring people together, or will it threaten to destroy everything?

[theriverbeyond]

salut!!! do you have any fave griddlehark au fics?? your taste is immaculate so i would appreciate the recs

omg thank u!! and YES i have tons of recs. I have started a couple of bookmark collections on ao3 for my personal favorite fics, THREE of which are about griddlehark!! As a heads up I only made them somewhat recently, and am therefore trying to catch up on my bookmarks backlog, so they aren't complete but I recommend everything in them :D

Griddlehark Modern AU bookmark collection (what it says on the tin, all fics >10k words) Griddlehark Canon Divergence AU bookmark collection (Basically any AU ft. griddlehark with canon divergence from any period in the timeline, including regular canon divergence & more drastic alternate paths such as Nova AU, BOE!Gideon, Her Divine Highness AU, etc) Griddlehark Misc AU bookmark collection (Any non-canon, non-mundane AU)

for specific fic recs, just off the top of my head:

Waiting and Better Days by badgerjaw (Griddlehark modern AU sickfic & hurt/comfort, made me cry (positive), really beautifully written)

I am one of the young women who was rescued from the Locked Tomb cult, AMA. by mintpearlvoice (formatted like a reddit AMA, funny but also angsty in the best way. what can i say but them <3)

literally anything written by @valancietrinit/valancytrinit, especially if you like your alternative universes with an angsty modern flavor they have some utterly FANTASTIC oneshots here, literally no words u just have to read them and experience it for yourself

hold you like a weapon by @gideonisms/GingerAlchemy (ballet fake dating AU with pitch perfect griddlehark dialogue and banter. holding them in my arms)

The Heart Is Hard To Translate by JustBeCos (BOE!Gideon AU, Harrow is captured by BOE and Gideon ends up guarding her. One of the most scrunchable Harrows ever, with SUCH a well written Gideon as well, tears my heart out with each update!!!)

Mors Vicit Omnia by @four-for-fidelity/WalkingDisaster (forensic anthropology AU that has me by the THROAT!!! in suspense, truly one of the Fics Of All Time, to me)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @neornithes/pipistrelle (MOBY DICK AU where the scions of the Houses are called by God to go on a Ressurection Beast hunt. Once again, truly one of the fics of ALL time, the way this fic re-interprets Resurrection Beasts, Lyctorhood, the River, and necromancy in general is just beyond fantastic)