#like despite everything i can’t help how much i still love him

[lyvhie]

nct dream having a s/o who's shy during sex

nct dream x fem!reader (18+ mdni) a/n: reposting this one bcs somehow this just disappeared from my blog and i remembered to repost it now 😭😭 cw: smut, oral (f), fingering, petnames.

MARK seemed taken aback at first. like, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, he wanted this moment to be good for you too, so he kept asking if you were sure and if it was okay to continue. when you gave him a green light, he would nod and take things slowly with you, checking to make sure you were fine with what he was doing and reassuring you that it was fine to be shy. he let you wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face there, knowing that this was your way of cooperating with the situation.

he was understanding and patient, knowing that you needed time and didn't want to push too quickly. he loved having you close to him like that, everything seemed more intimate when you were close together. it was like a whole new level of intimacy and he couldn't really explain it with words, but it just felt right to him.

“babe, please,” he murmurs against your forehead, his voice shaky with restraint. “think you can relax a little for me? your tightness is amazing, but i need to move,” as soon as you relax, he begins to move his hips slowly, savoring every inch as he pushes deeper into you. each stroke hits just the right spot and elicits a soft moan from your lips. he showers you with praises as he makes love to you tenderly.

it seemed like there was an unspoken contest between you and JISUNG over who could be the most bashful in that moment. and, just as usual, you managed to claim victory! despite seeing himself as the one to lead, he was surprisingly unsure of his next steps, attempting to put you at ease as best he could. with a gentle determination, he whispered reassurances in your ear about making it feel good and creating a memorable experience for you. yet, every word he uttered only seemed to amplify the heat in your body.

but through all the nervous laughter and flustered glances, you could sense jisung's genuine care for your wellbeing. as his hands explored your body, they were hesitant yet firm, as if trying to learn your every curve by heart. he gently nuzzles your neck as he speaks, his breath hot against your skin. "i promise i'll take it slow. just tell me what feels nice.”

HAECHAN remembered how he saw you struggle to just take off your clothes, how embarrassed you seemed, so he figured he'd take the opportunity to help. initially, he was gentle and supportive, telling you it was all right, and you could take your time. however, when you were underneath him, hiding your face with your arms and holding back your cute moans, oh boy, that's when he would get really devious. he'd force you to look at him and whisper dirty words in your ear, really making you squirm and, more important, he would make sure to tease you enough to make you beg.

“look at me,” he would say demanding. “i’ll stop moving if you close your eyes again,” as he says this, he's already thrusting into you in an agonizingly slow pace. it would be so much worse if he just stayed still.* “n-no, hyuck, p-please,” you stutter out in a pleading tone as you open your eyes quickly and look at him. “please what? i said you have to use your words, love,” he leans close to nibble on your earlobe, making you shriver. he loved how responsive you were. “please… f-faster, i…” you tried to move your hips to match his rhythm but his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you exactly where he wants you. "mmh, i'm listening,” he nuzzle against your neck, patiently waiting for you. "I-i want to c-cum again, p-please, go h-harder,” you say in a frustrated tone, burying your face in his neck to hide yourself. he was pleased with you words, his smirk widen and he feels his cock throb with excitement. he would let you hide this time. “can’t deny it if my love asked so nicely.”

seeing this side of you, the vulnerable and timid one, was something truly endearing to JAEMIN. “my bold princess is feeling shy today?” he asked, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth as he pressed a light kiss to your quivering lips. “there’s no reason to be,” he assured before placing another tender peck. gently coaxing your arms away from hiding your chest, he encourages you with another kiss, his thumb tracing lazy circles on cheek. “you’re stunning, princess,” his lips soon follow suit, moving down to your neck, leaving trails of kisses as he goes.

jaemin’s breath is hot against your skin as he nuzzles further downwards, pausing at your collarbone. he flicks his tongue across the delicate flesh, the sensation makes goosebumps break out on your skin, causing you to shiver slightly. “you’ve got nothing to hide from me,” his hands move to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts completely. with a low groan, he finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling lightly.

CHENLE would be so confused. he was trying to make you feel good, but you were making things difficult. it wasn't because you didn't want it, so he was even more confused as to why you weren't letting yourself enjoy it. "baby, why are you doing that?" he asked with a puzzled look, raising an eyebrow as he saw you closing your legs. "stop closing your legs," he said, making you look away from him. “n-no, it's... i-it's embarrassing..." you mumbled, biting your lower lip. he let a small "oh" escape his lips when he realized what was happening.

"aw, are you feeling shy? you're so cute!" he said, letting a small sigh escape his mouth as he ran his hands gently up and down your thigh. the touch was comforting, his hands caressing the skin as he leaned in closer. "what about this? keep your eyes closed and let me take care of you, just relax,” he kissed your thigh, his voice so gentle it made your heart flutter. the thought of just letting go and giving him control was enticing, so you nod and kept your eyes closed as he requested. with a wicked grin, he pushes your legs further apart, revealing your beautiful, swollen center. he takes a moment to appreciate the sight before leaning down to taste you, his tongue sliding effortlessly inside. you gasp and grab onto his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as he begins to explore every inch of you.

JENO had come to understand your behavior patterns, he knew that you would react just this way. you were always the type to talk too much and do less, specifically in regards to your flirting. you seemed to derive a lot of fun from sending suggestive texts, spicy pictures that didn't give too much away, raunchy voice messages and all. yet when it came time for the actual act, you seemed to always shy away from it. he had learned to read your subtleties, and this time he didn't let you ran away.

"aww, look at you now," he says, his voice low and teasing. "you were all fire and ice earlier, sending me those naughty texts and photos, making my imagination run wild." he leans in closer, his breath hot against your cheek. "but now that we're here, you're suddenly shy?" he held your chin to force you to meet his eyes. "what happened to the feisty little thing that had me on edge all day?" before you could try to say something back, he shut you up with a hard thrust, making you gasp. "you know, you really shoudn't start something you can't finish."

RENJUN knew you were naturally shy about physical contact, he wasn't surprised by your reluctance. in fact, he knew that you would be a little coy whenever the physical intimacy went up a level. he knew your shyness would make this a delicate process, so he decided to start things off gentle. "that's it, just spread your legs a bit more, darling," he asked softly in your ear, continuing to keep you in a gentle hug from behind. you could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. you had asked him not to look at your face since you felt nervous, and he agreed. but he was lying, he just had to move his head a little to capture your expressions.

he starts gently caressing your inner thighs, sending shivers up your spine. he feels your pulse quickening and your breathing becoming more ragged, which makes him feel even more determined to give you pleasure. he continues to tease you, getting closer and closer to where you really need him to touch. he traces his fingers lightly over your wet panties, feelings your arousal seep through the fabric. he slowly pulls them aside and slips a finger inside you gently, pumping slowly as he watches your reactions. your breathing quickens and your moans get louder with each thrust, so he adds another finger, stretching you just enough to feel amazing. as he continues to move inside you, he presses his thumb against your clit, massaging it in slow circles. he’s careful not to go too fast or hard knowing that anticipation can be just as satisfying as release.

[archivalofsins]

The Futa and Mikoto dynamic in the latest minigram-

MILGRAM EP57 "Caffeine"

[57-1]

Mahiru: Would anyone like some coffee?

Yuno: Do you have any sugar?

Mahiru: Of course!

Yuno: Thank you very much.

Mahiru: Want some sugar?

roar

Futa: Why are you only asking me?!

[57-2]

Mikoto: I don't think she meant anything by it.

Futa: I can't keep my mouth shut when they want to make assumptions and treat me like a little kid.

Futa: It's bitter.

Mikoto: (Maybe it's because you act like this.)

Mikoto: It's a matter of taste.

Mikoto: So, I don't think it relates to being a kid or an adult.

Mikoto: Also, you should apologize later.

Futa: How about you then?

Mikoto: Me?

Mikoto: I've gotten used to drinking coffee.

Mikoto: It's not really a love/hate thing.

OVERTIME

ENDLESS PHONE CALLS

PILES OF WORK

Mikoto: Coffee was more like something like a must have...

Futa: ?

The way Mikoto says taste has nothing to do with being a child or adult. That mindset right there is why I believe Amane let's her guard down around him and allows herself to be childish when he's around.

21/04/16 (Amane’s First Trial)

Amane: …………

Mikoto: Oh, welcome back Amane! ……what’s with the grim face? Ah, right, the guard summoned you! How was it? Did you cry? I bet you were so scared you cried, right!?

Amane: ……alright then. If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get.

Mikoto: Huh? Oooi! Hey, are you listening?? Ooooi!

Along with why, when he became more standoffish in response to her verdict and she saw him being avoided, she began to avoid others. Turning people away when they approached her as she saw them not approaching him. So, she may have gotten the impression that others were only approaching her due to her age, not because they cared about her.

Something that could give further context to Shidou noting Mikoto and his behavior specifically in his second trial written interrogation,

Q.07 Are there any prisoners you get along with?

Shidou: Kayano-kun has become like that, and I can’t spend my time smoking at the moment, so the smoking trio has disbanded, which is a bit lonely.

Despite him and amikoto around this same time being drawn smoking together. Along with Kazui literally encouraging Shidou to take breaks in the timeline as well. Plus, Mikoto's change in attitude having very little to do with him not smoking to his own admission in the same answer. Like he states he just hasn't had the time to do it at the moment but starts with noting Mikoto's attitude isn't helpful. Probably because he thinks Amane is mirroring him and he's not srtying a good example for the kids. Which isn't his fucking responsibility since he's in a high stress situation for one.

Secondly, despite being like this, he's still better with kids than Shidou is. Let that fucking sink in.

Amane let's herself be childish around Mikoto because he's less likely to judge her solely based on being a child. Instead as he would treat her like any other person. He'd treat her as herself and someone he only knows about through their own individual actions.

Not base his judgment of her off of something she has no control over like her age-

20/06/13

Amane: ……what’s wrong, Shidou-san? Your hand has stopped marking. This is mathematics, so there’s no questions about the answers. If I got something wrong, please mark it with an X.

Shidou: I…… I just don’t understand. If everything about MILGRAM is true…… why did a child like you have to become a murderer? Just imagining what sort of circumstances must have led to that, it makes me so sad……

Amane: ……*sigh*. Is that right. I don’t think I’m going to get along with you, Shidou-san. I don’t agree with the fact you refuse to acknowledge that I have my own free will, and that I should be held accountable for my actions, just because I’m a child. I may have only been alive for 12 years, but all the choices I’ve made, even if they weren’t the best ones, were entirely my own. What point is there in you getting sad when I have no regrets myself? ……please give me back my test. It seems you don’t have the concentration levels required to be my teacher. I’m going to get Kotoko-san to teach me instead.

Shidou: Amane…… I don’t think that’s true. However smart you may be…… you’re still just a child.

Mikoto, in contrast, recognizes that Mahiru asking Futa if he wanted sugar had nothing to do with her treating him like a child. Instead, this was Mahiru being considerate and taking note of Futa's taste and behavior. Then giving him the opportunity to adjust his drink to his liking. Something that goes totally unappreciated because he gets upset that she didn't ask Mikoto the same thing.

When in all honesty I wouldn't put it past Mahiru to have taken a glance at Mikoto soulessly drinking his coffee and internally go,

"Nothing will make him like this drink. I don't even think he tastes it. There's hope for Futa though."

That's how neutral he is to it. Hell, he even admits he's neutral to the drink in this same conversation. Referring to it as a must-have or a necessity for his job. He's basically just drinking it because it's there, and it's now a habit for him to drink it when it's available due to the environment he was in prior to this. He just mindlessly with no real thought went hey there's coffee might as well get some then when asked went oh yeah I have no feelings towards this drink.

Leaving Futa there confused downright puzzled like of you don't like or hate it why did you voluntary get some as Mikoto is their having trauma flashbacks like,

"God the work, the hours, the phonecalls...coffee my only reprieve and fuel. The thing I needed but..."

Yet this also shows off something about Mikoto that gets overlooked. The guy is no pushover. Even though he doesn't want to be rude he will be direct and tell others when they mess up. Going ad far to tell Futa,

"You should apologize later."

While talking Futa through the mistake of tying taste to maturity.

Because that's a stupid thing to fucking do. Assuming having preferences when it comes to what one eats or a person has to eat a certain food due to their age alone and no other health reasons is stupid.

20/06/03

Futa: ……huh? What’s your problem? You’re just leaving all your meat? What a weird kid.

Amane: You say that, but you’re not eating all of your food either. ……are you not able to eat your vegetables? Even though you’re an adult.

Futa: Huh, what, so you’re just eating grass? What are you, a rabbit or something? Since you’re just a brat, you should be eating your meat properly. You won’t grow if you don’t.

Amane: ……you make some really funny jokes, don’t you, Futa-san.

Eat what you like regardless of age isn't a hard concept to grasp. Going I can't eat this it's too childish or drinking something a way you don't like to seem more mature is a waste of your own time..if it doesn't taste good don't eat if you don't want it politely decline. If you actually do want it eat it.

Mikoto respects Futa's behavior here but ultimately gets the point that Shidou has been failing to get with Amane. If the problem is the act of consuming certain things has been intrinsically tied to a person's age you should remove that pretense entirely by going,

"I don't think it relates to being a kid or an adult."

Taste is just taste. Instead of continually pushing like you're a child, children like sweets come have some pancakes. Can I tempt you into these childlike pleasures, Amane? Shidou they're fucking pancakes they don't have an age restriction you absolute tool. A lot of adults enjoy them, too. Shidou goes through every possible reason Amane should try these things while missing the point of why she ultimately doesn't taste it. Because he's arbitrarily decided she should like and try these things because she's a child and has consistently chosen to ignore the fact she declined.

Unlike Mahiru, who gets yelled at and just leaves. To the point that even Mikoto says Futa should apologize for that. This is why I find the dynamic between Amane and Mikoto, and Futa and Mikoto so interesting. Because when they get upset he stays leveled for the most part and gives them space to be themselves without outwardly labeling their mindsets as childish and immature. Because on some level he gets it which makes him more likely to talk it out to them like they're people instead pf just blatantly lecturing them about being roo childish or immature.

Instead of going you're acting like a child he'll just bluntly go its a bother having you be angry all the time in a way of seeking attention.

20/06/15

Mikoto: Hey, it’s kinda a bother having you be so angry and tense all the time. You should stop trying get everyone to pay attention to you. You’re a uni student, right? You can’t act like that once you start working properly.

Futa: Huh!? Shut up. Not like I care what you say. Even though we’re in this shitty situation, you’re just chatting away, it’s stupid. Aren’t you the one who’s acting out of place here? ……also the fact you give everyone nicknames is just gross.

Mikoto: *sigh* It’s more stupid to be taking this all so seriously. I mean, it’s definitely just a reality TV program. There’s no way a real prison exists that’s this lax. Also, I don’t give nicknames to everyone. I don’t give them to young kids like Amane, or to the hard-to-approach types like Shidou-san. I mean, I’m not giving you one, right?

Futa: ……oi, which group are you trying to say I am?

Futa "I don't care what you say" Kajiyama. Also how do you feel about coffee, which group do I fall under there. You called out my anger as attention seeking well the way you nickname people is gross.

*sigh*

Is right Mikoto it's absolutely right. Even when reprimanding him and bringing something adjacent to age Mikoto still focuses on social standing. How it won't be beneficial and instead inappropriate for Futa to behave how he is here when he does join the workforce. It's a perspective hard to combat because it's reasonable and straightforward. It's also something Mikoto doesn't have to say at all unless he is genuinely concerned in some way. Futa's behavior can lead to him being ostracized or deemed unapproachable and rude in a work environment who cares it's not his job to correct that. He can just learn the hard way like everyone else has to.

Haruka's social skills are kind of poor and could lead to problems with others.

20/06/05

Haruka: Ah…… ah, u-um, Mikoto-san. The c-communication……? thing, that you were saying was important. I-I thought, I’d give it my best…… Um, so, Mikoto-san, what’s your favourite food……?

Mikoto: Ooh? Nice going, Haru-kun~

Yeah, we still have no idea how long this lifestyle will go on for, so it’s best if we all get along together here.

My favourite food…… I like pasta and horse-meat sashimi. Also bubble tea, and recently I’ve been big on custard puddings. What about you?

Haruka: ……ah, I, I wonder…… H-hamburg steak, and omurice, a-and also…… what else? Ah. Cotton candy……

Mikoto: C-cotton candy!? That’s the first time I’ve met someone who has that in their top three favourites!? ……man, Haru-kun, you really are hilarious.

Who cares it's not his job to tell him how to practice that or make sure everyone is communicating well with others. He is in this weird situation it would ve so much easier to just keep to himself and mind his business. Like Kotoko does at the start but instead he behaves in a way similar to Mahiru.

Yet, instead of just talking with others to include them, Mikoto gives them pointers on how to further include themselves. Whether they're talking with him or not. He goes well- Here are these tools that could make communicating easier and more beneficial to you. This is important to setting the right atmosphere now off you go. Then when it works out he's proud of them.

He states they've grown and changed into good people and he doesn't shove the thing in their face or even take any credit for it.

22/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Haruka: Mikoto-san. Um, are you ok……?

Mikoto: Ah, Haru-kun. It’s been a while since we last talked, huh. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you doing ok……?

Haruka: Ah, I’m fine. I’ve been enjoying myself, a lot. Um, I’m sorry, for avoiding you. I was a bit scared. Of you, honestly……

Mikoto: Ahhh, yeah. I’ve been lashing out whenever I go to sleep, right? ……it’s fine. Even I think you’re right to be scared.

You know, I kinda just hate that I don’t even know what’s going on myself…… haha.

Ah, but despite all that you still came and talked to me because it’s my birthday, right? Thank you, you’ve grown into a good man.

Then he just continues living like oh that's good proud of you for coming so far back to the suffering I go now.

Haruka: Wait you said you were fine.

Mikoto:

Even when it comes to welcoming Amane back and seeing that she was upset after her interrogation. Why was Mikoto the one who did that and not Shidou?

Why did Mikoto see Amane being quiet and clock that something was up and not the guy literally attempting to force himself in a parental role over her. Why was it when Amane was actually upset he was the only one to take a second and go hey are you good oh wait yeah the interrogation of course you're upset- my god it must have been terrible for you!

Why was he here in regard to any of these situations? When literally anyone else could have been noted. Because Mikoto, unlike Shidou and possibly to Shidou's annoyance- Is good with those Shidou regards as children. When he talks to Amane, she listens and takes him seriously. She even takes notes when Shidou talks to her he gets pancakes thrown in his face. This is all because Mikoto's way of speaking respects that someone is a person first and doesn't emphasize the things they don't have control over and may be sensitive about.

Outside of blatantly telling them like here, being an adult or a child isn't tied to things like that. Because it's not tied to food preferences it's tied to the choices we make and why. Anyone can be a better and more considerate person if we just work on communicating properly with those around us. That sort of mindset and knowing when not to rub someone's face in something because he doesn't rub in Futa's face that he complains about the drink being bitter after complaining about being asked if he wanted sugar which at that point he clearly needed it. No he keeps that's shit to himself and just thinks pinpoints what caused Futa to respond in such a hostile way and goes I don't think that's how that works. He goes to the root insecurity and goes no what you like to eat is not tied to whether you're a child or an adult. It's just what you like to eat or don't.

Which is really good on so many levels and highlights so well why he does get along with most of the younger prisoners.

[bubblegumbeyotch]

.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: violence mention / death mention / ]

Will never stop thinking about how Leo, all alone in an endless void and being beaten again and again and again by the only other living thing around, still finds comfort in that space. The situation he was in was completely hopeless, and in any other circumstances he would not have escaped, at least not fast enough to save him from permanent (or even fatal) damage, be it physical or mental.

And yet, despite the bleakness of his situation, despite the agony and helplessness, all he needs is one glance at a crumbled photograph, one glance to remember his family, and that’s enough of a reason for him to smile.

Maybe that’s why his powers center around manipulating space - because no matter how much space is between them, no matter how dire his own situation may be, just the thought of his family, alive and okay, is enough to give Leo hope.

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[bibleofficial]

leaving the hospital in the morning & i finally get to go back to wales & i can’t wait i rly can’t - the belgians i’ve met have been wonderful [for the most part] but the rape has me panicking even seeing the roads and the buildings

[fabled-fiction]

Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!

Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!

It felt like he never slept.

When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.

It was exhausting to be honest.

And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.

Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.

His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 

Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 

On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.

Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.

Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 

Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.

4:32:02am

Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 

Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.

The holographic face of Gwen popped up.

“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”

“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”

“Wait! I n-”

He couldn't swing fast enough.

There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.

He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.

Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.

Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.

Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.

“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 

Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.

You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.

“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.

Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.

Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.

“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.

“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”

There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.

It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.

Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.

But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?

He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.

When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 

Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.

He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.

“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”

He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Nah.”

[ervotica]

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

[suguruplsr]

i need gojo to absolutely destroy me like i need this man to degrade me to fold me into half to spit on me. to laugh in my face after he literally explodes and ruts into me in oblivion. are u kidding he's rich he's tall he's hot PLEEEEASSSE i need a man like him. (maybe this is a request. a tiny drabble, if you will, if you can. please and thank you, love u :))

professional milker !

✰ ✰ ✰ his little whore’s gone dumb , but it’s okay , her pussy still milks him every time !

જ⁀➴ ughhh same like the way he was so condescending and mean to hanami and jogo 😓

,, mean!satoru x fem!reader , degradation (heavy) , overstimulation , dumbification , choking , slapping , creampie , spitting , mention of reader being a pillow princess , too many pet names (& used as degradation) , idk , drabble.

divider from @/benkeibear

“what a fucking whore. cummin’ on my cock like no tomorrow..” satoru snickers, ignoring your crying blabbers and giving a rough slap on your ass. if only you hadn’t fell for his charming attitude, him personally inviting you to his large party. the gojo satoru, inviting you? you couldn’t believe it. maybe you did when you fell for him again, his bright and piercing eyes catching you in the kitchen while you were grabbing drinks for you and your friends. if only you had stopped him when his touches began to linger. then you wouldn’t be here, in some random guest room he tucked you in, folded and milking his cock just like the sluts he keeps in his bed.

“hope you’re not goin’ dumb on me..” satoru chuckles, reaching down to rub your clit and watching how you squeezed your eyes shut, yet clamping around his cock so nastily. “i can’t do it anymore.” tears slip from your eyes, mewling and clawing his chest as he only leans further down on you to fill you up with even more of his cock. “you were just begging for it though. what’s with all this whining huh?” satoru meets you with a cheeky smile, a hand going to wrap around your neck and kissing you. “my thighs hurt..” you whimper, stuttering when he gives a long drag of his cock, squeezing your neck tight enough to make your eyes momentarily roll back.

“so that means i just need to make you cum fast enough..can’t have you in pain right? don’t worry, heh, i’ll do all the work. what a pretty pillow princess i got.” satoru pulls back and holds your thighs, playing with the plush as he eyes the cum that coated the area of where you two met, some of it dripping onto the bed as he slowly rolls his hips. “toruu..” you were in complete bliss, and despite being totally fucked out your mind, everything single thing he did still had your pussy throbbing around him, and you couldn’t help it.

“shh, gotta fill you up again. gonna be my personal cock sleeve— oh i felt that, bet you’d like that huh?” satoru chuckles when you tighten just from his words, he might’ve even imagined the way your folds visibly twitched. “y-you sure do talk a lot.” you stammered, only for him to suddenly give a sharp thrust, both of you moaning from the feeling of your shared cum sloshing in you, some of it trickling out from the abrupt movement. “a-and you’re talking too much for a dumb slut.” he sneers, using your thighs to help guide his length in your hole.

it was brushing along every inch of your walls, pressing right at that gummy spot in you that has you throwing your head back, clutching his arm with a cry. “satoru! um, t-too deep.” you’re already crying, teary doe eyes looking up so prettily at him. satoru groans, his cock was throbbing inside you and your firm walls weren’t doing much to help that. “yea? ya gotta feel me at the fucking brim. hope you’re on the pill— or else i’ma fuck a baby into you” satoru laughs, you didn’t have a single worry in your mind about it, and who knows if you remembered to take your birth control today. that’s a worry for another day at least.

satoru begins to set a steady pace, not too fast, yet sharp enough to pump into you every time his hips snap against your skin, his lengthy cock dragging and rubbing against your walls. “wanna feel you cum in me again toru..” you mumble mindlessly, whining when he seems to drive into you faster from your words. your nails grips the sheets as he chuckles, his voice husky and raspy. “a real fuckin’ cumdump. only thinkin’ of me filling you up with my hot n’ sticky cum.” satoru smirks, his cerulean eyes having a dim look in them that makes you whimper. he looks so intimidating, and it so hot.

“d-didn’t even s-say all— toru!” he stuffs you up completely, folding you back in half and ignoring your whine of pain. he steals your moans with messy kisses, “clearly not fuckin’ you good enough if y’r talkin’.” satoru huffs, his strokes were deeper than before, and as much as your thighs ached, you’d choose the feeling of his girth hitting you deliriously over being able to walk anyday. your words turn into weak murmurs of his name as he holds your jaw open, pretty blobs of tears rolling down your face.

“my dirty girl huh? gonna keep you after this, my little slut to come home to.” satoru chuckles before letting a thick glob of spit fall into your mouth. you look so cute, face twisting in disgust as you swallow it so obediently. “toruuu..” you can barely even protest when he cuts you off with open mouthed kisses. your pussy was throbbing as he gave short and fast pumps into your pussy. your brain was mushy at this point, his sweet and honeyed perfume invaded your senses, the sloppy sounds of your flesh’s meeting only added on to your ditzy haze.

“bet that dumb head of yours is empty. but it’s okayyy~ gonna make you feel so good with my cum all deep in your cunny.” satoru grins wickedly as you whine, his cock was almost bruising your insides but you couldn’t care. not when he was saying such filthy words to you as his cock twitched inside you. “m’gonna cum. cum with me toru..wanna feel you..” you managed to get out, voice whiny and soft in his ear. you flutter around him as he kisses around your neck, mumbling as the familiar coil in your stomach builds. “pretty girl’s gonna cum f’me? go ahead, cream around my cock.” and you do exactly that, eyes rolling back so sweetly, losing your voice as he fills your cunny up with his thick warm load.

satoru finally pulls away to eye the creamy substance around his cock, your pussy wasn’t able to hold your shared cum even if he stretched you out, trickling down his length and falling to the sheets. he hums, swiping it up and smearing it along your folds and ignoring your weak pleas of being too ‘sensitive’. he thinks there’s no such thing, considering you’re still squeezing his cock. “tsk. now i gotta clean it all up. don’t pass out yet, gonna have a good meal. hehe.”

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[seelestars]

some bittersweet thoughts abt dating aventurine / sunday after playing 2.1…

firstly, I think I underestimated how hard it would be to get into a relationship with someone like aventurine,, he would need to trust you immensely in order to even attempt dating you

but once you do date him, he’s still very hesitant on being affectionate towards you

he had lost everything, everyone that was dear to him, so the idea of having someone he could lose again scares him

he’s careful not to grow too attached to you, always keeping you at an arms distance despite how much you love and care for him

every morning, he makes sure he wakes up before you so he can leave your side early. it’s not that he doesn’t want to be around you during such vulnerable moments, no, but rather he fears he’ll get too attached to you

he makes sure to tuck you in and press a sweet kiss to your forehead as he smiles to himself sadly before heading out

if you ask him about his reasoning behind leaving so early, he’ll just make excuses and dismiss it as ipc work (there’s a whole angsty idea I have for this related to believing he’s cheating but idk if I should write it)

you try your best to be understanding, staying by his side and comforting him whenever he needs it

in return, he spoils you using his immense wealth

see a necklace you like? no worries, just tell him—tabs always on him after all. want to go out for dinner? of course, the most luxurious restaurant rented out just for the two of you.

it’s his way of making up for his distant nature towards you, he’ll even allow you to hear some stories about his past such as the day he got branded as a slave as he stares at you with a soft gaze and a subtly melancholic smile (he even permits you to call him by his real name, kakavasha!)

with sunday, I believe he’d be a tad bit paranoid when it comes to you

as a neat freak who desperately needs control over anything and everything, he feels like he needs to have some form of control over you as well

you’re very dear and precious to him after all, and he can’t just allow you to slip away from his hands like how robin did

his little bird servants are watching you day and night, making sure you don’t get into any trouble

and at the end of the day, he always asks you regarding what you did the entire day while using his ability to make others tell the truth—he has to make sure you didn’t do anything that would potentially get you into danger, no?

he feels guilty and regretful for resorting to such methods to ensure your complete safety, but he tells himself it’s better to be safe than sorry

if he can, he’ll try to have you by his side as much as possible so he can have you directly under his watch and protect you if necessary

he makes sure to handle you extra delicately and gently, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he helps you wash your hair

he even allows you privileges such as touching his sensitive wings as well as his halo, hoping it helps convey just how special you are to him

to him, you’re safer under his watchful eye and control as the two of you happily spend your days together

if anyone had even dared to imply that they would harm you, sunday would deal with it immediately and make sure you would never see them again

even with all the dirty work he does, you’ll understand, won’t you? everything he does is for you, after all.

[melzula]

hii i was wondering could you write a oneshot of how zuko's self cautious of his scar and reader just kisses his scar and reassures him and tells him that hes perfect and that she loves everything abt him. This is in a very like intimate and loving way ykyk

a/n: ah this plot is so sweet! had to rewrite this piece a few times before landing on something i liked so i hope you enjoy!

summary: zuko asks you to remove his bandages

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I can fetch Iroh instead.”

“No,” comes Zuko’s soft reply, his sullen features bathed in candle light. “I want it to be you.”

Sighing softly, you give him an understanding nod and press a careful kiss to his check. The Prince remains stoic in spite of your show of affection, simply signaling for you to proceed.

It’s been a week since the Agni Kai, and the healer has given Zuko the okay to remove his bandages. The wound should be healed by now, nothing but a painless scar with a painful memory attached to it. It’s not only your first time seeing Zuko’s new face but his as well, and neither of you are sure what to expect.

You were honestly surprised when the Prince had asked for you to be the one to remove his bandages. He’d been cold and standoffish with you since your departure from the Fire Nation, something you couldn’t blame him for considering all he’d been through, but you didn’t expect him to trust you with something so important so soon. It made you nervous, but it also made you relieved to know he still felt he could trust you with such things.

Your fingers work carefully as you unravel the white cloth around his head, doing your best not to cause too much discomfort for your Prince. He says nothing as you move and only watches you through the reflection of the mirror before him.

“Are you ready?” You ask him softly, hesitating as you reach the final layer of wrapping.

“Hesitation is a sign of weakness,” Zuko replies gruffly, and that’s all you need to hear before finally pulling away the last of the bandages.

The room is silent and tense as Zuko stares at his own reflection. The skin around his eye is angry and red, permanently damaged and forever serving as a reminder of his failure. He can hardly see out of his left eye, but he’s still able to make out your figure watching on silently as he assesses the damage.

“Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what, Zuko?” You murmur softly, carefully resting a hand upon his back.

“Say you’re disgusted by me. Say you’re repulsed,” he snarls bitterly. “Say that you’re too embarrassed to be seen with such a failure!”

“Is that really what you think?” You utter sadly, a pained smile on your lips as you carefully reach out to touch his face. His hand immediately flies up to catch your wrist in a firm grip before you can get any closer, and despite the discomfort it brings you make no attempt to move.

“It’s what I know.”

“Then you must not know me at all,” you counter with a small shake of your head.

Reality sets in and Zuko guiltily removes his ironclad grip on your wrist. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but there’s an amalgamation of emotions festering within him at the sight of his deformity. He was a Prince, he wasn’t meant to look like this, he wasn’t meant to be out at sea fruitlessly trying to find the Avatar so he could end his banishment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“You’re perfect, Zuko,” you console with a careful brush of your fingertips against the freshly healed skin. His eyes flutter shut at the comforting sensation, and you take it as a sign to continue. “I love you the way you are, and this scar doesn’t change that.”

He can’t help but gasp when he feels the softness of your lips pressing against his temple. How could you not feel sickened by him? How could you still love him after everything?

“Your scar is nothing but a sign of your strength, I hope you know that,” you tell him before pressing another kiss to his cheek just below his eye.

He says nothing in response, but you know that he understands you. With you, he doesn’t have to feel shame or guilt. Your love for him knows no bounds, and there’s nothing he could do that would ever make you turn away from him.

He sits in silence as you begin to apply a soothing balm to his skin. His eyes close in contentment and for the first time since leaving home he finally feels at peace.

He knows then that he made the right choice in having you be the one to remove his bandages. No one sees him like you do, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

[hysteria-things]

can you do a sub matt smut?

ICE COLD POOL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt is your best friend. you and his brothers decide to take a dip in the pool, but you in a bathing suit makes him a little too excited.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, making out, semi-public, oral (male receiving)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 773

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this song kinda has something to do with this fic but also doesn’t?? idc i love wallows more than life🫶

the pool water felt cold on your skin, but for a hot summer day like right now, it was perfect.

you’ve known the sturniolo’s for a while now, and over the years you guys have become much closer. the four of you are currently at the steep end of the pool chatting and drinking some sodas.

nothing too fancy, but it’s always nice to have a get-together from time to time. you’re standing next to matt while chris and nick are across from you.

matt couldn’t help but check you out a few times as the hang-out went on. you’re wearing a red bikini. nothing too revealing, but matt finds it attractive nonetheless. maybe a little too attractive; because he can’t stop shifting in his spot.

“i’m going to head inside for a few but i’ll be back.” nick announces to the group, getting out of the pool by hoisting himself up on the ledge. “need to check something on the vlog camera.”

“okay.” you smile as your friend walks away.

chris clears his throat. “i need to piss.” that’s all he says while following nick’s actions.

“you’ve been quiet.” you start, turning your head to matt who’s staring into space. “everything okay?”

“yup.” he smiles nervously, shifting his body like what he’s been doing. you tilt your head, unamused with matt’s lie. you scan down his body until you get to his swim trunks. it’s hard to see because of the water’s ripples, but there’s a visible tent on the blue fabric. “matt—”

“i’m sorry.” he panics. he starts walking to the stairs, but you grab his wrist to stop him. “matt,” you repeat.

his eyes look at your lips for a beat. you cup his neck and pull him into a kiss. he doesn’t kiss back right away since this was so sudden, but he soon gets into it.

he grabs your hips to pull you closer. you smirk when you feel his boner brush against your legs. you guys don’t know when nick and chris will be back, but it has to be soon.

matt’s breathing starts to quicken as his dick twitches. he moans into your mouth, pulling away abruptly. his face is pale from embarrassment.

he just came in his shorts.

“i-i’m sorry.” he stammers. “i need to use the bathroom.”

he starts going up the steps but you stop him once more. your body is still in the pool while he is now sitting on the ledge.

despite the water making his swimsuit wet, you can still see the stain and his still-hard boner. “looks like it hurts.” you tease.

he stares into your eyes as he frowns. you keep eye contact when you start to untie his shorts, pulling them down just to his thighs. he hisses when his swollen cock finally springs free. he’s been hard for way too long.

you flatten your tongue at his tip. he flinches at the contact, but eases when you start to move your tongue in kitty-licking motions. he moans and grips so hard to the concrete next to him that his knuckles turn white.

you start to lick faster, but you stay at his tip. he doesn’t look away from your eyes until something clicks in his head. he looks around in panic, nervous that his brothers will be back any second.

“stop looking at me like that,” he whines.

you know he can cum from just you staring and toying with his tip because of how sensitive he is. you then start to kiss and suck on him.

matt bites his lip and throws his head back, whimpering as his hips buck up a little.

even though he’s not staring at you, you never take your eyes off of his gorgeous face. “please.” he gasps. “i need to cum.”

you continue what you’re doing, more moans and whines leaving matt’s mouth when one last buck of the hips has him cumming on your lips. “shit.” he pants.

you kiss up his chest until you get to his lips so he can taste himself. he moans at the feeling. “chris got distracted. sorry guys.” nick’s voice echoes from the back door. matt quickly pulls up his swimsuit and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

his brothers get back into the pool and luckily they don’t suspect a thing. nick starts ranting about god knows what, but matt keeps staring at you.

he wants to say something, knowing he can’t. all you do is smile seductively and wink, and matt’s cheeks can’t help but turn a maroon.

he wishes his brothers never came back outside.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

[mggsv]

SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind’a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

[feyascorner]

Astarion would never admit it, but the charming lines he uses as a constant attempt to seduce you are not all his own.

He’s talented, he knows, at coming up with the heart skipping lines, describing in detail the massive amount of so-called ‘adoration’ he says he can give. He knows how to flirt, and he knows even better that despite the way you roll your eyes, he’s starting to wedge his way into your heart.

But sooner or later, ideas come to an end. And he’s starting to think you’re incapable of falling in love if he’s used all his lines and you still haven’t approached him. Perhaps you just don’t do romance. But hope wavers. Why he’s so adamant on wrapping you of all companions around his finger, he doesn’t know. He knows you’re the most difficult to seduce, yet he can’t help himself.

You’re almost like a drug to him.

So, unable to quit, he turns to his books. They’re sappy romances, and many of the lines even manage to make him scrunch his nose, scoffing at the sheer disbelief of how unrealistic some of the scenarios are. But hours upon hours later, he picks out some of the most upfront lines, because he’s sure you’ll just ignore him otherwise.

He knows you have little interest in romance, but he wants to entice you. He wants to be good enough for you to look at him.

“I must confess that the moment I laid eyes on you, everything in my body and soul told me you were the one.”

You stare at him, eyes lidded and barely fazed. Puzzled, he has no choice but to continue.

“My heart beats terribly, my beloved, whenever I see you bathing in the glory of the sun. My breath quickens, but vanishes when you get a step closer. My very existence, it seems, is meant to yearn for you,” he rattles off the lines of the book, as enticingly as he can, with eyes so seductive that they almost appear to glow. “Your beauty is unmatched with any other. If you asked, I would die—“

“—a million times in the thorns adorning my own desire,” you cut in, and his eyes widen. “The skies could fall and I would use my bloodied body to hold you up again, against the starry nights as a star gleaming brightest in its competition.”

As you finish the line, he blinks, completely and utterly confused. “How did you-“

“It’s my favorite book,” you confess sheepishly.

Astarion, for the first time, sees you as you are. He sees you as the being who yearns for love, just as a young maiden would yearn for their prince—perhaps even more innocent. He’s read you completely wrong, and he feels his throat close up. “It’s…it’s a childish one.”

Your cheeks burn, and he thinks you almost look cute. He rips away from the thoughts though, appalled at what he just considered. “I think it’s romantic.”

“No kind of love is so ideal.”

And while your face falls, you lift your head to look at him with squinted eyes. “…next time, just make your own lines—-or, at least, don’t choose ones that don’t fit you.”

“Don’t fit me? How so?”

“I doubt we would’ve fallen in love at first sight. You had a knife to my throat.”

“A loving knife.”

You stifle a laugh, and he swears he can’t take his eyes off of you. “Well…if you want, I have other books in my tent if you want to see…I have a few you might like, or at least, help.”

He just stares at you, only realizing moments later that you were awaiting an answer. “Ah, of course, darling. I’d love to accompany you. Perhaps I’ll learn a new line or two, though I doubt any writing has as much charisma as myself.”

You smile softly, nodding. “Okay then. Come over tonight after dinner, and I’ll show you.”

And as you walk away, he thinks that rather than him doing the charming and you falling irrevocably in love with him as it should have gone, your interaction has left him charmed instead.

It seems the romance novels are more than just effective at their jobs.

[i-cant-sing]

I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

-

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.