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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

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—𓆩[something worse]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Tobias Eaton (Four) x Fem! Dauntless Born! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Four had been together since he chose Dauntless, especially because you were one of the Dauntless born pulled into training. You both had never put a label on your relationship because it never seemed right, but everyone knew that you both were a couple, except the newest tributes you both were training, no matter how obvious you both made it. It seems you both have to make it a little more obvious.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - so sorry I was writing this during a final and it might suck I’m sorry 😭 || cursing || unprotected sex || creampie || oral || fingering

You were used to wandering eyes, you really were, your partner was literally the hottest man in Dauntless. It didn’t really matter about wandering eyes though when they knew you both were together, label or not, but it seemed to be difficult to get through the mind of one of the new initiates.

You weren’t born Abnegation like either of them, you were a bitch and you made sure everyone knew it. You were a lovable bitch though, that’s why you were being fucked every night by the hottest man in all of the factions.

It passed through your mind to just show her, get Four to tell her something is going on in a certain area just to pull him there to fuck you. You passed it through Tori just to make sure, and she said no though, so you decided not to go through with it.

Maybe that’s why you were watching Four fix Tris’ position because she wouldn’t stick with it when Eric did it. It made your skin crawl, staring at the two of them. Maybe it did feel right that he was with someone from his home faction, didn’t he like selfless people? You were selfless in your own way, right? He knew that.

“Hey, you okay?” Uriah asks you, a smile quickly making its way to your face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, thank you. I’m going to go see how some of the kids are doing, you mind telling Four?” You start collecting your stuff, inhaling deeply as Uriah follows you.

“He’s coming over here.”

You shoot up as Four stands in front of you, his brow raised. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go do my time at the school,” you say, smiling slightly. “I just… haven’t seen King in a while.”

Four sighs. “Well… I can go with you in a minute, okay? King likes me, right?”

You laugh, slowly lifting your arms to wrap your arms around his neck before pausing. Public displays of affection were never really your thing, but you really wanted to.

Four saw you pause, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as you smiled and wrapped yours around his neck. “Everyone likes you, Four,” you teased, giggling. “But I love you.”

He smiles back, leaning down for a soft kiss as you tugged on his hair. “I love you too.”

You pulled his hands closer to your form, pulling his face into your neck as you looked over his shoulder just enough to wink at Tris before pulling away. “Let’s go see King.”

He nods, letting you lead him out of the training area and to the school. Dauntless didn’t teach like Erudite did, but they made sure that the children of the faction learned things needed to survive in the faction. King was a child of two Dauntless soldiers who had died exploring beyond the wall, and as a result, you both took him in sort of like your own.

Seeing you with a child really made Four want to give you a child, especially with how good you were with kids, but it never really seemed to be the right time.

That was until he saw you twirling another boy in your eyes, King cleaning one of Four’s guns while the older man oiled up one of the other ones. The younger boy was named Chris, someone whose parents got caught up in a mission and you both took him home just for a while.

“She looks good with a baby, right?” King asks, smiling. “Y/N was always good with kids. She was good with me,” he mumbles now, smiling. “I’m doing well in my training. She said that.”

“You are,” Four said with a smile. “You’re doing really well. Ranked third, kid, you’re doing good,” he leaned forward and ruffled his hair with a laugh. “Want you to get that first spot, though.”

King grins. “I will.”

Someone knocks making you fix Chris on your hip, quickly walking toward the door as Four stands. “Stay there,” he orders to King as you open the door, raising a brow when you see Tris. “Who is it?”

“Uhm… can I help you?”

She inhaled. “I just… I’m here to see Four.”

“Four, honey!” You yell out, the tall man coming behind you and settling a hand on your hip. “One of the trainees wants to speak with you.”

Four raised a brow. “Everything alright?”

Oh, the Abnegation was coming out.

“Y-Yeah, everything’s fine-”

“Perfect,” Four smiles, taking Chris from your arms and setting him on the ground. “King, come here!”

The older boy quickly walks over, standing just like Four. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you take Chris down to eat? Tris will join you both,” Four says making King’s nose scrunch. “What?”

“Don’t forget I sleep here too.” King takes Chris’ hand, looking back just a bit. “Don’t forget I have a bed! That’s my bed!”

“Bye, King!” You laughed as Four grinned, closing the door as his other hand held your waist.

You couldn’t stop smiling, giggling as you stared up at him. “You did that, didn’t you?”

His smile grows, just a bit. “Yeah, I did. Uriah kind of… hinted it to me.”

You hummed. “Good, because I would've done something worse,” you said, slowly stepping back and pushing your hands into his tight black shirt. “I was this close.”

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” He asked, smiling as the back of your knees bumps against the bed. His rough hands slip under your shirt, rubbing against your back as though he could feel the black ink you had gotten tattooed.

“Was gonna make her catch us fucking in the corridor,” you giggled as Four slipped off your shirt, humming as he leaned down. “Who said we always have to fuck on the bed? You like that idea?”

He nodded into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you started to lean back, his hands securely catching you before you could fall back fully. Carefully, he sets you down, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck down your chest. “I fucking love that idea,” he mumbled, his hand slowly rubbing circles against your thigh. “You want to go do that now?”

It was a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “No,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “You already got me here. Why move?”

He smiled even wider, leaning down as his hands moved to your hips to slowly tug at the tactile pants you wore. “I was thinking,” he whispers as you pull him down to press kisses to his neck. You could see the black peeking out from his shirt, pulling it off of him easily as he pulled away just to slip it off before pulling off your own. “You looked good with Chris on your hip.”

You paused, looking up at him. “You think so?”

He nodded, his hands tugging at your sports bra as your hands dragged down his back. He kneels over your body, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest. “I know so. You’re a natural with kids, angel, you’re fucking perfect.”

The slight husk in his voice made a shiver run up your back, your stomach twisting and heat flooding into your underwear as he lets his hot mouth suck at your lower stomach. “D-Does that mean something?”

He smiled, looking up at you. “Did I just get a Dauntless-born to stutter?”

You blushed madly, looking away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Four.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone before he slowly starts to pull your underwear off, his fingers dancing along your thighs as you squirmed, gasping as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. It makes you squirm, his fingers replacing his lips as he kisses lower and lower.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper as the tip of his fingers slowly prod against your cunt, his mouth sucking and licking around his fingers as your hands push into his hair. “F-Four, you’re being too nice.”

He laughs, pulling away just for a minute as he slowly pushes a thick finger into you, watching as your hips buck into the air and your back arches. “Maybe it’s the Abnegation?”

You shook your head, reaching a hand down to push his fingers deeper into your pussy. It makes you whine, a gasp coming from your lips as he pulls them out just for a second to add another finger. “Abnegation is selfless, my darling, maybe it’s the Amity? J-Just, don’t stop.”

He laughs, popping a kiss to your cunt before pushing his fingers deeper into you, watching as you squirmed. Moans fall from your lips as he pressed firm circles against your clit, the sensitive bud making you whine loudly, hips bucking.

His fingers curl inside of you, pushing his tongue into you with his fingers as you tug on his hair and your other hand finds his cheek.

You felt your stomach twisting, hips bucking uncontrollably as you attempted to ride his fingers. You gasped as his fingers curled inside of you, attempting to find that one soft spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. It didn’t take him long to find, especially because he’s memorized your body over the years and he groaned as you clenched around him.

“Come on honey, cum for me. Want to watch you cum.”

Your eyes rolled back, whimpering as he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you to watch your pussy flutter. Your stomach twists, loud groaning falling from your lips as your stomach twists. Your hips buck, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your cunt, swallowing loudly as he pulled out his fingers.

He pulled away, sitting up as he pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his cock, hissing as you raised your legs to wrap around his waist. He grunts as he slowly pushes into you, eyes rolling back as he leaned down to hold himself up with his elbows, pulling you in for a kiss. “Fucking hell, I want to see you with my kids so bad,” he groaned, gasping as you pulled him down for a kiss. “Want to see you pregnant over and over again.”

You whined, his hips moving quickly as the bed pounded into the wall, your nails dragging down his back. His cock rammed into your pussy, strong thrusts making your eyes roll back as he pressed his lips to your neck. “You want that honey? Want to be fucked, round and full with my kids?”

You nodded, whining loudly. “Yes! Yes, I do!”

He grunts loudly, slamming into you just to feel your pussy clench along his entire shaft, a broken moan leaving his lips as you cum again around him. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, fuck! Four!” You yelled out as he reaches down to rub firm circles into your clit, rutting his hips just a few more times as he came inside you for the first time without protection.

It was an odd feeling, but filling as he groaned loudly, your cunt continued to clench around him to milk him of everything he had. It was warm, and if you could feel sticky-ness inside of you, it would be this. You whimper as he starts to pull out, trying to reach forward to pull him back in before he grabs your legs, pushing them back so your knees were on your shoulders.

“You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Gotta make sure this sticks.”

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iamthemain-character · 1 year

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You Drew Stars Around My Scars

four/tobias eaton x reader

she/her pronouns

TW: mentions of scars from abuse, heavy making out

Y/n’s head was swirling with thoughts of the new recruits as she headed down to to the training area. The day had been long, trying to help all the new kids as they desperately clawed to qualify. Some did well, instantly brandishing themselves as worthy Dauntless. Others, however, struggled.

And while the Dauntless part of Y/n knew that this was just the way things were done, there was still a part of her, a part that had grown up in Amity, that worried about those poor kids. Y/n’s heart twisted every time one of them failed, knowing that they slowly crept closer and closer to being cast out. Despite only being a couple years older, Y/n saw them as kids, still needing someone to be there for them.

Letting out a large sigh, Y/n was about to walk through the door when she looked down at her hands, realizing that she didn’t have her gloves on. Wracking her brain, Y/n remembered that she had lent them to Four. It was getting late at night, so he was probably either finishing up some personal tasks or going to bed. But Y/n didn’t really feel like tearing up her knuckles, and Four and Y/n were close enough friends that it wasn’t uncommon for the one to unexpectedly pop into the other’s quarters.

So regretfully Y/n turned back around and made her way to the living areas, wishing she had taken the time to remember everything she had needed before she had traveled halfway across the compound. Eventually she arrived at Four’s home, and hearing nothing following her knock, Y/n let herself in.

Y/n looked around the common area, searching the seats and shelves for her gloves. Nothing turned up, however, so she made her way to Four’s bedroom. There was nothing under the bed, nor in the closet, but as Y/n turned about she spotted a book sitting on the bedside table. Curious, she picked it up and flipped through the pages, wondering what kind of books interested her friend.

“Resorted to rifling through my stuff have you?”

Y/n whipped around to see Four standing behind her, having come out of the bathroom. The bathroom where he was evidently taking a shower, given his wet hair and glistening chest.

Oh. Oh.

Four never took off his shirt, or if he did, it wasn’t in front of Y/n. Now everyone in Dauntless was fit, but as Y/n looked at Four’s torso, she realized just how beautiful his body was. Loose, black pants rested on his hips, and his muscles tensed as he crossed his arms.

Realizing she had stared for far too long, Y/n forced herself to look at the book in her hand. “Oh, no.” Y/n said, letting out a breathy laugh. “I was looking for my gloves. Which, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are would you?”

Smiling, Four walked over to a set of drawers and pulled out the elusive gloves. Y/n watched his movements, but she couldn’t help a gasp that slipped from their lips as she saw Four’s back. A massive and intricate tattoo covered the entirety of his back, running from his neck down his lower back, with the tips of the lines disappearing underneath the waistband of the pants. Four turned with concern at Y/n’s reaction, but his face relaxed when he saw what she had gasped at.

“Have you never seen my tattoo?” He queried, walking back over to hand Y/n her gloves.

Speechless at Four being so close once again, Y/n simply shook her head.

“Do you want to?”

Bashfully Y/n nodded, curious as to what could have been so important that Four would have it inked across his whole back. He turned around once again, allowing Y/n to get a full view of the tattoo.

As Y/n dragged her eyes across Four’s skin, she saw the pattern of the lines with 5 circular symbols in the middle. Not just any symbols, she noticed, but the 5 factions. Four had all the factions represented on his back.

But as Y/n leaned closer to look at the details, her eyes shifted to something else. There were horizontal lines littered across Four’s back, and while Y/n at first thought they were part of the design, she soon realized that they were part of Four’s skin.

On instinct, Y/n’s hand came up to touch the scars. As soon as her fingertips touched the skin, however, Four flinched.

“I’m sorry.” Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t be. They don’t hurt anymore.” Four replied, and while his voice sounded so steady, Y/n could detect a bit of a waver underneath.

“What happened Four?” Y/n softly asked, gently running her hand over the scars.

Four’s shoulders tensed up when he heard the question, and for a moment Y/n regretted asking. But slowly he turned around, grabbing Y/n’s hand and holding it within his own. Softly he ran his thumb over her fingers, his eyes dark with the pain of his memories.

Four’s voice was low and thick when he spoke. “I wasn’t good enough for my father, so he tried to fix me with his belt.” Letting out a humorless laugh, Four shook his head. “I never changed, but I still got to keep these scars. Guess they serve as a good reminder that I won’t ever be good enough.”

“No.” Y/n vehemently shook her head. “No. Your father wasn’t good enough. Four you, you have always been enough. You never have to change for anyone. Not for your father, not for Dauntless, not for me. You are beautiful and wonderful and incredible just as you are.”

Y/n looked into Four’s eyes, hoping that someway, somehow he would see that she was saying the truth. He stared back, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. Y/n could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of Four, and despite the intensity of the moment, she couldn’t help but feel her heart race as he seemed to get closer and closer.

Four’s eyes fluttered close as his face came close to Y/n’s, nose brushing her cheek as his lips angled towards her’s. He stopped just inches away, his warm breath fanning across Y/n’s face. “Tell me to stop.”

“No.”

And Four didn’t. Leaning in all the way, his lips pressed against Y/n’s. It was soft, gentle, and a little bit tentative. His lips are slightly chapped, and the scent of his body wash filled Y/n’s nose. It was sweet and reassuring, feeling the warm pressure of each other’s lips.

When Four pulled away, his heart was beating wildly. His eyes searched Y/n’s, trying to gauge her reaction. She smile, one side of her mouth edging up higher than the other. That alone sent Four over the edge.

All the tension, all the passion, all the pent up feelings come crashing over Four, and when he reattached his lips to Y/n it was no longer gentle. Hungry and a tiny bit desperate, their lips moved in tandem, engulfing the other’s.

Y/n’s hands made their way to Four’s short hair, fingers grasping the back of his head and pulling his face closer. In turn, Four’s hands slid down to Y/n’s hips, fingers digging in as he grasped them. He pulled her closer, eliciting a gasp from Y/n, but they don’t break their kiss.

Step by step the couple moved closer to the bed, until suddenly Four’s knees hit the edge of the bed. As his back hit the bed, he stared up at Y/n; her lips were swollen, a deep reddish hue giving evidence to his lips being on her’s.

Y/n didn’t miss a beat, instantly coming onto the bed and straddling Four. His hands returned to her hips, pulling her down on top of him. Y/n’s hands wandered to Four’s chest, feeling the outline of his abs and pecs. Leaning down, she slowly placed kisses along his sternum, making her way up to Four’s neck and jawing.

He arched his neck, loving the feeling of her lips on his skin. Feeling greedy, however, he turned his head back and caught Y/n’s lips with his again. Four’s hands wandered, sliding up from the hips along the sides of Y/n, feeling the outline of her body. His fingers twitched at the edge of her shirt, and she murmured a “yes”against his lips. Four didn’t wait another second, sliding her shirt over her head and throwing it to the side.

He took her in for the first time, suddenly hit by just how beautiful she is to him. Her top half covered in just a sports bra, Four’s eyes ate up every inch of exposed skin. His skin was slightly rough as his hand came in contact with Y/n’s waist, but the warmth from the touch flooded her entire body. Placing his other hand on the back of Y/n’s neck, Four flipped her over so that she was on her back and he was hovering over her.

Four grabbed one of Y/n’s thighs, guiding the the leg to rest on his hip. Hand twisting in her hair, Four pressed kisses to every inch of skin possible, from Y/n’s stomach to the valley of her breasts, and finally her lips again, loving the feeling of the pressure of Y/n’s lips against his own.

The two were breathing heavily when they broke apart, Four gently coming down and lying on top of Y/n. He pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/n wrapped the other leg around Four, feeling like she never wanted to leave his embrace.

“Don’t go.” Four whispered, his nose brushing Y/n’s ear.

Y/n didn’t respond, instead letting her lips on Four’s be a silent promise never to leave again.

#four #four x reader #tobias eaton #tobias eaton x reader #divergent

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elliotsblunt · 7 months

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Awaken Me | Tobias Eaton

pairings — four/reader | divergent au! |

summary : four seems to pick on you especially—and you figure out why. it’s because you both share the same secret.

warnings : none i think?

authors note : i forgot about this and decided to upload it even tho it’s unfinished…

Your eyes burned slightly as you blinked away tears, confused as to why you couldn't find that certain...

Anger.

Wren, a curly haired blonde that belonged in Amity—somehow landed in Dauntless. But during combat, her frail arms would summon the strength of twice the muscle capacity she contains. If you hadn't seen her flip a man twice her size over her figure—

You wouldn't have believed it.

Anyways, Wren had told you that she had reached that certain level of fighting simply by thinking of what angered her most. The the thing was, nothing horrible had happened to you.

You were born and raised in Amity, where the crime rate remained a negative 0–if that were possible, it would be rated just that.

Your ma and pa sheltered you, as you were their only child. You were also extremely close with them, but after getting your screen test back—it was time to begin a new chapter in your life. One that would drag and smash you to the ground like a bug.

Which is what happened now—basically.

Gritting your teeth, you rolled over to dodge one of your opponents lashes. Fortunately, the girl wasn't a merciless bitch, and let you stand up whilst getting back into position. With shaky fists, you gulped, muttering a quick curse before her own swung towards your chin.

But—

The beating never came. The throbbing rush of warm blood thrashing in your veins never crashed. Your jaw was in tact, and you weren't flopped on the ground like a beaten animal.

Your eyes snapped open, flashing over to the strong hand wrapped around Turner's wrist. Turner, the girl you were fighting, gulped as she stood back from Four. His chest radiated of a warm essence that burnt your cheeks—especially with the smirk dripping off his face.

"Turner," he released her grip, not glancing at you, "It appears the Mary Poppins hasn't improved. Isn't fair to you, is it?"

Your throat went dry, remembering how much of a total prick he was. At first, you thought he was hot, so you deemed him to maybe be a good person. But after you figured one of his life goals was to torment and embarrass you—you checked your values and common sense.

His eyes were dark, but still weren't ever fluttered onto your figure—almost as if he didn't even want to look at you. It damaged your confidence more, knowing you were probably going to be factionless if you didn't shape up soon.

Turner only shrugged, dropping her arm back to her side before placing both hands on her hips. She raised a brow at you as you let out a sharp breath, wiping the imaginary dust off your palms before looking down at the ground and stepping off the fighting podium.

Your ears ring as her blows caused you some damage. Chewing on your bottom lip, you held back your defeated thoughts as Wren threw an arm around your shoulder,

"It's okay. I got a few beat downs my first year here. It gets better," she attempted to cheer you up. You merely hummed as she continued, "Anger, _ _. That's what powers you. You need—“

“I know,” you snapped, stopping your feet before rolling your eyes at her, “I know. But I’m not an angry person, and I’m shit at fighting.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Pity isn’t what makes you a Dauntless, _ _,” she stepped towards you, poking a nimble finger into your heart, “So instead of whining, kid, maybe you should just stop thinking and fight.”

Slowly nodding, you stood there as she headed over to the cafeteria for lunch. You noticed that the boxing bag area was empty—and it clicked in your head what Wren said.

Fight.

Bringing your fists up, you got into a fighting stance and threw your first punch. With gritted teeth, you felt the material bruise up your knuckles—but you wanted to feel it. Feel the pain. If you couldn’t feel the pain, then pity would just Pool around in your chest instead.

And you hated pity.

Hissing as you retracted your first, you did it again. Then repeated on the other fist. Every time the cool leather collided with your knuckles, it sent a sharp pain up your hand. But you stood through it, until the next time you swung, you didn’t realize the bag had made its own hit towards you—swinging and hitting your body with a harsh force.

Letting out a grunt, your body slammed into the cold cement of the training sector. Your ribs ached as you didn’t twitch to get up, instead accepting that you were going to be factionless if you didn’t get back up.

Get back up, _ _. You have to.

Sweat dribbled down your forehead as you landed another punch to the bag. You made it a mission to skip lunch so you could train, because you'd rather starve than be factionless. Breathing harshly through your teeth, you felt the muscles slightly tense in your arms.

"Mary poppins hasn't improved, has she?"

You felt your lip curl as you delivered another brutal hit, finally taking victory in the bag. You released a grunt as your fists kept colliding with it.

You were going to show that stuck up son of a—

"You're supposed to eat in order to gain muscle. Didn't teach you that back in Amity, huh?" You heard a voice quip, a deep and gravelly voice.

Jumping from surprise, your head snapped over to see Four leaning against one of the bags. His eyes were focused on you, smoky and stormy. You looked away from him instantly, but kept your focus on him, "Skipping lunch won't make you a Dauntles—"

"If someone tells me one more time what does or doesn't make me a Dauntless, I might just fucking shoot myself," you raised your voice, feeling the patience that usually you held snapped like a tree branch. Four's eyes stayed narrowed as he now crossed his arms, the muscles protruding from that caramel, ink covered skin of his.

You gulped, "I meant—"

He stood up straight, a smirk creeping into his plump, pink lips as he stepped towards you, "You're nothing but a farmer. You cannot train remotely enough to become one of us," he hissed, venom laced in his words. Something swirled in his eyes, making your jaw lock,

"You don't have anger. You have self pity, and Dauntless don't pity themselves. They fight, and are willing to give up their life for people. How can you fight others when you're fighting yourself already?"

You blinked, feeling anger begin to rise within you. It was a foreign feeling—but you didn't hate it. If anything, your veins welcomed the poisonous rage, but you bit your tongue.

Four laughed darkly, "You can't even speak up for yourself. Surely, you should go back to those farmers," he continued, making your fists balled up at your sides. As he continued to degrade you and your home, well— people who used to be your home, it rose.

The anger rose. It felt as the ground begun to shake, sudden flashes of all the combat you had witnessed before your eyes playing like a rapid slideshow in your mind. The cracks of the bones whenever someone would slip their foot beneath someone—breaking their balance.

Your eyes flickered up to his. He paused right before you, the scent of cologne filling your nose as your chest heaved deeply. Every sense of angst within you was on fire as he tilted his head.

"You don't belong here. But I doubt you'll be able to go home, since your parents disow—"

Your foot slipped under him, trapping him to the ground with a grunt from him. Your teeth clenched as you aimed to punch him, but he immediately snapped his eyes into yours. With furrowed brows, he grabbed your wrist and striked your leg with a harsh kick.

Your knee buckled, a bullet of pain shooting through your muscles. The cold concrete pavement of the training sector burned the flesh on your cheek, ears ringing as a dull ache formed in your back from the landing.

“C’mon, _ _,” Four chuckled, more so in a tiresome way than a tormenting tone. His chest heaved as I blinked, “Get up. Don’t give up now.”

It clicked. Was he…training you?

A boost if adrenaline shot through you. He believed in you. That was the push you needed to balance your wobbling arms off the ground, barely being able to push your body—but you did. Your fists balked at your sides as you gulped, accidentally melting into his cold eyes.

They weren’t as cold, though. As if the ice had slightly melted—but there was still another thick layer.

“Fighting is a dance,” he murmured firmly, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. You let out a harsh breathe as he held your back against his chest, before roughly pushing you away. You hit one of the punching backs, grunting as he smirked, “Until it’s not.”

“Can’t imagine dancing with you,” your eyes narrowed—only making his smirk grow.

But you didn’t hear a response, instead your eyes noticed he was about to take a step forward. Then, you watched his arm twitch—ducking before delivering a jab to his side. He flinched, which broke the barrier, and you didn’t wait to kick him down to the ground.

With a loud thud, you watched as his braid figure slammed against the ground. Picking up your feet, you darted towards him. Every single insult he’d ever thrown at you replayed in your head. He was trying to anger you.

Did he perhaps…care?

Sliding your knee across the ground, you grabbed both of his hands and held him down. Your hair fell over your face, panting deeply, as you used the rest of your strength to fight off his. His hues twitched to yours, something flashing in his eyes as they met yours.

Your throat became dry. Butterflies erupted in your tummy, a warm feeling hugging your heart.

Feeling the cheeks in your face burn—you felt the world slowly silence around you as your eyes melted onto his. You didn’t know if it was your imagination, or the adrenaline pumping in your veins—but you swore you felt his long fingers slowly graze your thigh.

Wait—

How did they get fre—

And in an instant, you were flipped into the ground. His strong hands held you down, gripping your wrist, as his muscular chest held down yours. Bodies pressed against one another, his grunts filling your ears…it was truly a sight.

A musky scent flooded your senses as you felt like you were high, wanting to reach out and touch that sculpted jaw of his. The stubble poking from his skin is probably scratchy against your palm, but his flesh still looked smooth and supple.

Despite his appearance coming off ragged and rough.

“That’s how you fight like a Dauntless,” He taunted darkly, making your brows raise in shock, “You’ll do just fine in ranks if you uh—“

His eyes fluttered to your lips, before he gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed himself off the floor, away from you, before dusting off his pants, “You should do just fine, _ _.”

Before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and made his exit.

#four #divergent #divergent smut #four smut #four divergent #tobias eaton #tobias eaton smut #tobias eaton fics #tobiaseatonsmut #oc: tobias #divergentau #divergent four #divergent fiction

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phoenix--sims · 6 months

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Simblreen 2023 Gifts 👻

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

GILMORE HAIR (free on my patreon)

48 swatches;

No mesh needed;

HQ mod compatible;

Smooth weighting;

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48 swatches;

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GRIFFIN HAIR (free on my patreon)

48 swatches;

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EATON HAIR WITH ACC BOWS (free on my patreon)

48 swatches / 22 swatches for the acc bows;

The acc bows can be found in the hat category;

No mesh needed;

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WELCH HAIR (free on my simsfinds account)

50 swatches;

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#s4cc #ts4cc #s4hair #ts4hair #sims4cc #sims4 #thesims4 #thesims4cc #sims4hair #sims 4 hair #sims 4 cc #phoenix-sims #simblreen #simblreen2023 #sims 4 halloween #the sims 4 halloween

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multifan2022 · 8 months

Text

Fearless 5

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

One of the things you loved about Dauntless, was even in the cold underground cave like home the water never got cold. Whatever water heaters the faction had were on point. So as you stood there his chest to your back letting the hot water run over the two of you until your skin warmed, it was divine. When one hand left your hip, and slowly made its way up to your breast kneading roughly you tried to act like you didn't notice.

"Tell me Y/n" Four said his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, only proving to turn you on further. When you stayed silent he chuckled darkly, before moving his other hand towards the apex of your thighs. When he lazily drug a finger threw your lower lips, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

Being 5'7 to his 6'0 had its advantages. One hand found its way behind you to his hair, your fingers threading threw. While the other went to the wrist of the hand he had lower, you knew that if he pulled away you wouldn't stop him. You physically couldn't stop him even if you wanted too, but if he wanted to stop you would never push that.

His rough fingers easily found your clit, while his other hand moved from your breast to your throat. Wrapping his fingers around it to hold you in place, brushing his lips across your shoulder. A soft moan escapes your lips as he starts rubbing sloppy but quick circles over your clit.

"Eaton.." You moaned digging your nails into his skin, trying to not give to much away. You knew what he was going to do, you gladly were accepting. While it felt a little weird saying his last name, you felt weird moaning Four.. And he hated Tobias.. So that left Eaton, sometimes you would say Four but it was normally Eaton.

Really Four didn't care what you said, he just loved the way your sounds of pleasure made his chest warm. He loved the way his skin felt like it was unfire but also relaxed whenever you touched him. The unconscious way you moved towards him in crowds. How your eyes would seek him out when you were stressed or anxious. He loved everything about you, except your short fuse.

But he figured everyone had a down fall. Everyone had a flaw that someone couldn't stand. He knew that you held it together to the best of your ability. Like earlier in the dorms when you snapped, it had been coming all day. He could tell by the way you tapped your fingers against your arm, the way you bounced from foot to foot.

Zeke had also told him you had been the same at the ceremony. Between the stress of losing some and gaining some, the stress of maybe seeing your hateful brother. Seeing Rita's sister die, and the beginning of the trials. That fuck head Peter, and all the annoying questions.

Then Eric coming over, that was bad enough but then when he was touching you.. It set Four ablaze with an emotion he couldn't quite name, one he hadn't felt often. And had never felt towards you. All he knew was that he lived for these moments, the moments in one of your rooms. Or the few times you had pressed him against the wall in a quiet hall. It was what got him threw the shitty days.

So with that in mind, he moved his hand lower pushing a finger into you harshly. Pumping only a few times before adding another. He could feel your pussy fluttering around them, he felt himself growing hard at the feeling.

You were trying to not show how much you were enjoying it. That of course didn't matter because Four knew your body almost better than you did. You turned your head, his lips catching yours as he continued pumping his thick fingers into you. He pulled away letting your moans fill the air as you started to tighten around him, "Tell me what was wrong."

You groaned a little and bit your lip, just a few more seconds and you would be over the edge.

As if he read your mind, he ripped his fingers out of you. "Fuck.. Come on Eaton.." His other hand was still firmly around your throat, so you couldn't pull away. His fingers brushed over your clit again, so lightly you almost couldn't tell if it happened. You felt yourself push your hips forward, trying to keep whatever contact you could.

"Do you think I'll let you cum before you tell me?" He said biting down on your shoulder just hard enough to leave a mark. You shook your head a small smile on your face as he squeezed your throat a little tighter. Cutting off just a bit of the air flow to your lungs. "Ah, that means you like being a brat."

When his fingers found his way back into you, you couldn't stop the way your back arched. It only took a small twist and curl of his fingers for him to find the sponginess of your g-spot. Pushing the pads of his fingers against it every time he pushed in or pulled out.

The sensation along with the slight light headedness was overwhelming. The motion quickly brought you to the edge again. "Four.. Dont.. Please.." You begged knowing he was going to do it again if you didn't answer him. At this point honestly you couldn't remember why you wouldn't answer him. You were just along for the ride.. and so far the ride was fabulous.

When he pulled out again a whine found its way from between your lips. He spun you around this time, pressing you against the cold stone wall. Your mind barely registered it as his lips found yours. Kissing your ferociously both his hands now wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you up the wall.

Before you could even take a breath to start begging he was pushing into you. Your head falls back to the wall, as your nails dug into the skin of his back. You heard him hiss but nothing really mattered. You were with the person you loved, doing one of your favorite things. Nothing could stop you at this moment, someone could've walked in and neither of you would've stopped.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass as he pounded into you. "Fuck, Ill never get use to how tight you are." He said his fingers digging into your thighs so hard that you knew there would be bruises. "I can feel you, you're ready to cum.. All you have to do is tell me what was going on.. Tell me now or I'll stop."

Your mind told you to keep your mouth shut, but your body won out. "Fuuckk.." You seethed threw your teeth trying to hold on. Two hard thrusts later it all just spilled out "I just dont like any of the newbies yet.. Those two girls and that fuckwad guy pissed me off.. Eric pisses me off.. His touch makes me want to vomit. Fuckk.."

You moved your head fell to his shoulder as he held all your weight, muscles in his arm flexing to help move your body. "I just feel more stressed than normal.. Im sorry." Finally the rest of the weight rose off your shoulders.

The groan that came from Fours throat made you clench, only making him groan again. When you finally felt the band of your orgasm snap, your vision went white. Buzzing sounds filled your ears, you could barely hear Four tell you he was cumming too.

You didn't remember making the choice to rake your nails down his tattooed back. You were sure there were spots where he was bleeding. But through those final few thrusts nothing mattered. Not the soreness of your thighs, not the stinging in his back. Just the euphoric feel flowing between the two of you.

When Four finally set you down, it was quiet besides the sound of the water and the hazy breaths. He left his arms wrapped around your waist and back while your legs stopped shaking. The rest of the shower was spent gently washing each other, his arm firmly around your waist. The smell of his minty body wash filled your nose, he scrubbed hard enough to lightly pink your skin. Having showered with you enough to know how you would do it.

He didn't wash your hair, knowing you would be pissed if he didn't condition it but he rinsed it. You washed his hair as he held you up, lightly pulling at it as you rinsed it. Using your hands to wash his skin, rubbing the tension out from his shoulders. He pressed his lips against your forehead before turning the water off and stepping out.

"You dont have to apologize to me for being stress Y/n.. You know that right?" Four asked as his fingers brushed through the tangled mess of your hair. He was on his back with you on his chest, even though you were mostly asleep you answered with a nod and hum.

"I know there's something else going on.. I just want you to remember I'll be here when you are ready to talk. I will always be here Y/n, I'll always protect you." His soft voice was the last thing you heard as you fell into the darkness. Feeling completely relaxed and safe under the blankets wrapped in Fours arms.

You slept wrapped in each other's arms that night. A silent dreamless sleep comforting both of you. The beat of your hearts as well as your breath synced with each other. Both on your side, your hands against his chest while his arms were wrapped around you.

One under your head keeping it tightly tucked under his chin, the other around your waist. Your legs tangled together. Every part of you that could be touching was. Had anyone walked in and seen you two, they would never have thought you were 'just friends'.

@coolestgirlhere @everydayisordinary @hannahbeezz @cat-lockwood

#four eaton #four x reader #tobias eaton x reader #divergent fanfiction

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months

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Madame Marzi I must defer to ur wisdom

Recently you rb’d a painting with some younger ladies and in the tags talked a bit about short hair in Victorian Times

Do you have any reference for how shorter hair was styled at the time? I’ve seen plenty of paintings and such with VERY short hair (post illness or perhaps childbirth) where all you can really do is smooth it back, but what about that awkward, past the shoulders sort of stage where it’s too long to just brush back but too short to do much to? Surely they had some styling guides..?

(Also, a side question— how old would one be before going from shorter skirts to adult/full length ones?)

The two little girls in the garden (probably preteens-young teens)? Yes, I did!

It's hard to find images of women with in-between hair lengths, and I'm not sure why. Possibly because they'd find ways to put it up with false hair, whereas hair too short to put up is more obvious in photos. This could also have to do with the type of woman who has pixie- or bob-length hair voluntarily vs. mid-length: the latter is more likely to be attempting a grow-out, and thus to try her darndest to do The Culturally Accepted Long Hair StylesTM where a lady who chose a much shorter look wouldn't care. If that makes sense? Because, indeed, some of the women with very short hair were not ill or postpartum: ladies could, and did, choose to eschew long locks back then. It wasn't very common, but it happened.

(Nicole Rudolph has an excellent video about localized short hair trends for ladies during the Victorian era.)

You see a lot of these bob-type looks in photographs where the hair is center-parted and either naturally curly or curled on purpose, around the mid-19th century:

(1850s or 60s)

(Author, feminist, and abolitionist Anna Elizabeth Dickinson- no relation to Emily that I know of, though Anna was also a queer female writer around the same era -c. 1860s. She wore her hair short all her life, so it was voluntary in this case.)

(Also 1860s.)

Pre-Raphaelite muse Fanny Eaton frequently appears to have chin-to-shoulder length hair, though given that she was Black with a corresponding hair texture, it's hard to tell what the actual length is- it may be long and looped up in the 1850s-60s styles popular when she was most commonly painted (most free Black women in England and the US wore styles also popular with white women, to the best of their abilities given that fashion plates assumed European-textured hair as the "norm"):

(Fanny Eaton, 1861. Also worth noting that we have no images of what her hair looked like when she wasn't posing for fantastical paintings.)

I've never actually seen an image of a Victorian woman with mid-length hair outside the context of theatrical or artistic images from the end of the century, now I think of it. Huh. It's a mystery, I suppose!

As for skirts, while in earlier periods children had basically worn miniature adult clothing, it became fashionable around the 1830s-40s to dress girls in short skirts and boys in short pants. The usual rule was knee-length until around age 10, then mid-calf-length until somewhere between 16 and 18 when skirts would be "let down" and the girl would start wearing her hair up, becoming a young adult in the eyes of society. (Contrary to popular belief, this had nothing to do with marriage- while you were theoretically eligible for it when you started dressing as an adult, girls/women younger than 20 were still often considered a bit too immature to marry. It wasn't forbidden, but many people thought it unwise. And yes, unmarried young women did still wear their hair up and their skirts long.)

...unless she preferred her hair short, which as you can see, was an option!

#ask #anon #victorian #hairstyles #fashion history #dress history #short hair

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fouriis · 1 year

Text

put him in black clothes and add 8262 piercings to his face = book eric coulter

#ig make the hair greasier #skin paler #anyways #should have been casted as eric #istg the casting now is the inly reason there are fanfics about him #they yassified him #divergent #veronica roth #tris prior #tobias eaton #tris #four #fouris #eric coulter #outer banks #obx

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celebratingwomen · 7 months

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Courtney Eaton for Cartier

#actress #actor #model #magazine #photoshoot #fashion #style #famous #celebrity #hair #makeup #designer #cartier #courtney eaton #yellowjackets #yellow jackets

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redmambajatiri · 2 years

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After the after party

Tobias Eaton x female black reader smut

Summary: you’re at the Dauntless after party for your initiation class, when things get heated between you and Tobias

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

His hands started to roam my body and I looked up at him with my arms around his neck and saw he had lust in his eyes. As the night was coming to an end Tobias pulled me out of the pit to the training room, once there Tobias shut and locked the door.

Coming up behind me and kissing my neck moving his hands along my arms. His warm breath against my ear as he whispered “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Y/n?”. My breath hitched as I felt his fingers trail up the side of my thigh stopping at the hem of my dress.

Turning in his arms now facing him, I look up at him feeling another wave of boldness wash over me “How about you show me” while grabbing his shirt pulling him closer to me.

Tobias now looking into my eyes asking if he has consent, I grant him consent to move further. In that second Tobias smashes his lips onto mine. As the kiss gets heated he slams me against the wall causing me to moan.

Breaking the kiss Tobias tells me to jump and continuing the kiss he moves my panties to the side fingering me adding a finger each time. After a few “you like that” and “this is only the beginning”, Tobias walked us over to the mat, laying me down and pulling my dress up exposing my bare pussy.

Never breaking eye contact he starts kissing my inner thighs and blowing on my wet pussy. Causing me to shiver before he started eating me out earning a gasp and my hand grasping his hair. Feening more I start grinding my hips, he then grabs holds them down.

As I’m nearing my climax he stops, removing his pants and boxers he lines his dick up with my pussy before sliding into me causing my back to arch. As I took all 7 inches of him, he grunts “fuuccckkk, you feel so good” and buried his head in the crook of my neck.

Speeding up his passe, the sound of skin colliding filled the room. As I’m about to cum Tobias tells me to hold it a little bit longer. A few minutes later his thrust started getting sloppy signaling he was reaching his climax.

After a few more strokes we came at the same time. Tobias rolling off of me, we laid there trying to catch our breaths. As he gets up I see the scratch marks I left on his tattooed back.

After we both get dressed we snuck out of the training room and go our separate ways, but not before kissing each other one last time.

#divergent #tobias eaton #black!fem!reader #black y/n #four divergent #dauntless #first post #tobias eaton x reader #x fem!reader #smutwarning

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camillecrellin · 5 months

Note

Request: Graham Eaton x fem!gf!reader

Plot: Graham seems like someone who isn’t into many kinds of PDA, but I would LOVE to experience or at least read her expressions of PDA. A heavy make out session, an argument like hers with Meghan that turns into the make out session. Maybe them at a party and reader sits on her lap and she gets touchy?

Jealous — Graham Eaton

A/N: It's a short one, but I loved writing it. Enjoy! <333

Word Count: 439

Warnings: Public making out, jealousy, pda

You hated parties. It was never your thing, but Graham wanted to go. It was her best friend’s, Andre’s, birthday party.

And so now you were standing off in the corner, watching your girlfriend talk to her ex, Megan. Graham and Megan had broken up a few years ago on good terms. You knew Megan, you got on well with her. And yet you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

When Graham finished talking to Megan, she instantly locked eyes with you and walked over. Taking a swing of the drink in your hands, you didn’t smile at your girlfriend as you took a seat on Andre’s couch.

Sitting next to you, Graham looked at you face and tilted her head. “Why the long face?”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t respond, making Graham chuckle to herself. “Come on, tell me.”

Graham nudged your shoulder as you looked behind you to see Andre walking past, making you yell over the loud music, “Happy birthday, Andre!”

“Thank you, sis!” Andre yelled back, raising his drink to metaphorically clink yours, making you laugh and blow him a kiss.

“So, you’re ignoring me now.” Graham said, making you place your attention back to her, your smile quickly turning into a frown.

“Fuck you.” You muttered under your breath.

“What did you say?”

“Fuck you, Graham.” You said louder, fully facing the Eaton. “What were you talking to Megan about?”

Graham let out a loud laugh, placing her arm subconsciously around the couch, her hand draping around your shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”

“So, what if I am?” You asked. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

“What am I gonna do about it?” Graham challenged, leaning in towards you. Placing a hand on the side of your cheek, she leant forwards smashing her lips onto yours.

A pure euphoric feeling washing over your senses as she pulled you onto her lap. You opened your arms and put them around Graham’s neck, inviting her tongue in your mouth as you completely forgot about the very public social situation around you.

It wasn’t until Andre being Andre came up with a towel and started hitting you two to stop did you realise that you had taken up the focus of the majority of the people in the party.

“Get a room.” Andre complained, a smug smirk falling onto Graham’s face as you sat down on her lap.

Running a hand through your hair, Graham kissed you neck, muttering, “I love you and only you.” Moving up to your ear, Graham nibbled on it teasingly before whispering, “So don’t be fucking jealous.”

#graham eaton #graham eaton x reader #but i'm a cheerleader #but i'm a cheerleader x reader #clea duvall #clea duvall x reader

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dominimoonbeam · 16 days

Text

To The Edge - 8

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 8.

Rory contemplated some of the worst hours of his life to reassure himself that being duct-taped to a chair in his own ship, unable to do anything but wait and see if his bounty came back alive or not, wouldn’t make a list of his top ten.

There was the first time he got in a fight with pirates and got his ass handed to him. He’d almost lost an arm.

There was that time when he was working salvage and got stuck outside a wreck of a ship in a malfunctioning suit. Hypoxia had set it and if someone on his team hadn’t gotten the hatch open and dragged him inside, he would have died. He’d never felt his heart beat that hard before.

And then there was the first time he went to space—the first time he left the planet where he’d been born. He hadn’t been able to see the stars, packed into the cargo haul of a rickety ship, shoulder to shoulder with a hundred other desperate souls. It had shaken so hard, the hull creaking and screaming as they broke atmosphere. He had never been more scared before or since. That was the worst hour. The one where he thought he’d die crammed into that dark room, so close to escape, without a single star in sight.

This was not the worst.

This was not even close.

But it definitely felt like the worst when he considered just how much trouble that strange, naïve primer could be getting into on Styx. Where were they even going? If they wanted to piss off their family by running away, why this way? Why not go to Eaton? Why not go any damn direction other than the edge? The Solar Court had given up on this stretch of space—had found their limit and abandoned settlements along the border, like skeletons to mark the beginning of no-man’s-land.

The ship door opened, his ears popping and his head whipping to the side to try to see the entrance hall. “Stardust?”

It could be anyone. His primer could be anywhere.

“Did you enjoy your time alone?” they called, sounding chipper.

Rory laughed. “I spent the last two hours contemplating my mortality and just how quickly life can go to shit…”

Nodding, the primer walked onto the bridge. “You’re being dramatic.”

He huffed a laugh but forgot what he was going to say when he saw them. “Oh, look at you. I wasn’t expecting this much leather. Okay, I’m willing to admit that you might look better in that outfit than you did in my clothes…” Because he definitely wasn’t ready to admit how much he’d liked seeing them in his clothes… Did they get their hair cut too? That side shave was clean.

Stardust smiled and even did a little turn for him to get a good look at those leather ankle boots and tight pants, the faded t-shirt and leather jacket.

“What size is that jacket?” And where had they found it? He’d been looking for something like that for years. “Wait…How did you buy all of that?”

They blinked at him like they didn’t understand the question.

Rory shook his head. “There’s no way you had time to barter my stuff for that… Did you get into my account somehow or…” He sagged into his bindings. “Oh, Stardust. Tell me you didn’t use your own accounts.”

The primer pressed their shoulders back and their chin up. “It’s not like it’s a family account,” they said. “I have my own.”

“Not the family account? You think they don’t have tabs on your private one?”

Stardust rolled their eyes and waved a hand at him dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.” They settled into the pilot’s seat—his seat—and tapped at his controls, bringing his ship to life.

Rory ground his teeth, tugging at the tape he knew wasn’t going to budge but couldn’t stop himself from trying. “You really didn’t put much thought into running away, did you? Just figured that since you were already this far away, might as well keep going? Or did you like being in cuffs?” He grinned cruelly, hoping to get a reaction out of them. “You know, if that’s the case, I can cuff you again.”

He saw their hand hesitate over the keys.

Rory leaned forward as far as he could. “In fact, I promise that I will,” he whispered.

Stardust whipped around in the chair to glare at him, but when they opened their mouth, the ship beeped.

Incoming call. L-Class Yacht.

He saw the way their eyes flared at that announcement and barked a laugh. “That’ll be one of your relations. At least they’ll be able to tell from your shopping spree that I wasn’t taking advantage… Although I am definitely going to try on that jacket when I get loose.”

“Shut up! You’re not going anywhere, Cosmic. You’re in that chair until I’m done with your boat.”

He jerked at his restraints again and bared teeth at the back of their head. “Oh, I’m getting loose. See, you don’t know this yet because you have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but no one stays kidnapped forever. I mean, just look at yourself! By all rights, you should still be in a pirate’s storage compartment, but here you are, getting comfy in my seat, touching my controls, flying my damn ship—”

Another beep. Incoming call. L-Class Yacht.

He leaned back into his seat. “Are you going to get that?”

Stardust angrily tapped a key. The ship beeped. Call declined.

Rory gaped. “Are you out of your mind?”

The primer huffed a laugh, fingers flying over the controls. “Are you scared they’ll be mad?”

“Scared? Yes. Yes, I am scared of what your nightmare family might do if they think I fucked up this job. Have you met your grandmother? I haven’t and would like to keep it that way. Why do you think even pirates won’t go into the prime quad?” He didn’t need to wait for their response. “Because your family is there and they’re too snobby to step foot past their territory lines. So, assholes like me bring damsels like you back!”

Stardust tsked and he wondered if they’d rolled their eyes at him too. “I think we can both agree I’m not a damsel… and if you’re right, then I’m free and clear.”

“No. No, that does not mean that if you stay out of the prime they won’t get to you.”

The ship beeped. Detached from dock. Resuming course.

Rory sighed. “You’re not listening.”

The ship jostled as it decoupled from the station, stars gliding past the window and engines humming. “Don’t worry so much,” Stardust said, another tap at the console and they were off—cutting a line through space. “You’re going to be fine.”

“If they think I double-crossed them, or just botched this job, they will put a bounty on my head and hire someone else to drag you back. There’s no getting out of this.” Was he really trying to reason with this spoiled brat again? “And didn’t you want to go home? You made me promise.”

They shook their head but stubbornly wouldn’t look back at him. “You said you’d take me home. I never said the prime was my home. But I’m not holding you to that promise, okay? So just, sit back, relax, and you’ll have your ship back soon enough.”

Rory watched their shape bathed in starlight from the window, like a shadow being tested. “Prime isn’t home? Since when?”

They didn’t move. They didn’t answer.

He scoffed. Fucking primers. “Fine. Fine!” He pulled at his restraints again. “But when I starve to death in my own ship, that’s on you, Stardust. You’ll be a murderer as well as a thief!”

They finally looked back at him, eyes shining. “Then I guess we’re the same.”

Rory laughed cruelly. “Fuck you. We’re not the same!” he snapped but they both smiled. They were not the same—not by a long shot. And Stardust wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t even convinced they were a good thief, though admitting that in his current state would be too embarrassing to bear. “Seriously… Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”

They kicked the lock on the floor and spun the chair around to face him. They looked way too comfortable in his seat, leaning into the side and putting a boot up on the cushion. “It’s not that bad.”

“I can’t get kidnapped by my own kidnappee. This will wreck my reputation.”

Stardust shrugged, trying not to smile and failing.

“Oh, you don’t give a shit about that? I’m really starting to regret patching you up.”

The primer put their elbow on the armrest and their chin in their palm, watching him squirm.

“You are officially my least favorite kidnappee.”

Stardust grinned.

No primer should have a smile that crooked.

#to the edge #defying gravity #sci fi romance #ride or die in space #audio script to novel #adventures of stardust and cosmic #<3 #own work #dominimoonbeam #clover down

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random-brushstrokes · 1 year

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Simeon Solomon - Habet! In the Coliseum (1865)

A group of richly-attired Roman women lean from the balustrade overlooking an amphitheater in antiquity. Down below the crowd bays for the blood of one of the fighters as they watch the gladiatorial combat amid the dust and gore. The cry of Habet! (He is hit!) echoes around as the women make the decision whether to slay the vanquished gladiator or allow him to live. The women's reactions vary from the anguish of the girl who has fainted in a pallid swoon, the horror of another who rushes forward with animated wide-eyed expression, the pity of the woman on the far left whose brow is furrowed with concern and the blood-lust of the golden-haired woman who is making a gesture that suggests that she wants to see the gladiator killed. She is clutching a golden serpent necklace at her throat and showing her white teeth in an animalistic expression which many critics noted as being symbolic of a cold heart and a lust for violence. Swinburne suggested that this figure captures 'the ferocity of blondes' but she was probably intended to represent vanity and the fashion in the Imperial period for dyeing hair. Her expression seems to also reflect a sensuous admiration of the sweaty physicality of the half-naked gladiators. The most enigmatic expression is that in the face of the central figure who seems to be still considering her verdict. She is bedecked in ornate gold jewellery and has an inlaid box in front of her from which she has perhaps been throwing jewelled favours to her favourite combatants. Behind these bejewelled patrician women is a gaunt and melancholic servant-woman fanning her mistress with peacock feathers -symbolic of the decadence and vanity of the main protagonists in this orgy of lascivious cruelty. This quiet and contemplative servant seems weary of the horrors she is witnessing, unable or unwilling to lift her eyes to the scene that she has seen so many times in every aspect of her dominated life. She is as downtrodden as the gladiators, a victim of the cruelty of the rich. The only innocent and unsuspecting face among the crowd is a little girl whose mother seems to be about to pull her away from the horror that is unfolding.

The model for the slave-girl was Fanny Eaton, a woman from Jamaica whose mother was a former slave in a sugar plantation. She also modelled for Solomon's The Mother of Moses of 1860 (Delaware Art Gallery, Wilmington) and for one of the women in the background of Rossetti's The Beloved (Tate). The model for the blonde woman strongly resembles Emma Mary Jones, a professional model who is known to have posed for Solomon at this time and who is best-known as Frederick Sandys' mistress and model for pictures like Proud Maisie (Christie's London, 16 June 2015, lot 18) and Love's Shadow (Sotheby's New York, 5 May 2011, lot 69) which similarly show aggressive femininity. (source)

#simeon solomon #british art #historical painting #1860s

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