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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months

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Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day.

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view.

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you.

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade.

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours.

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad.

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.”

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure.

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him.

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps.

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt.

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.” Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?”

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash.

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet.

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get.

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction.

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops.

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

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bunnylovesani · 4 months

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Kiss Me Through The Phone

Summary: You call your jerk of a stepbrother to remind him to pick up some milk on the way home but the conversation takes a sinful turn.

Content warnings: Stepcest, dubcon, masturbation, fingering, squirting

WC: 2.9k

“What do you want?” Sam’s short-tempered voice rings out of your phone’s speakers as he picks up your call.

“Just calling to say mom wants you to pick up a carton of milk on the way home.” You exhale. Your mother had been married to his dad for several months now but talking to Sam still made you frustratingly nervous.

“Fine. Is that all?” He snaps back.

“Yeah. When are you going to be back by the way?” You innocently chirp, worried that he’d been gone for so long.

“Why do you care?” He scoffs and you shrink down onto your bed. He had a special gift for making you feel invisibly small.

“Jus’ wondering Sam.” You shrug. “You’re barely ever home. Gets lonely sometimes.”

“Princess wants a playdate, is that it? I’ve got better things to do than rot away in that hole of a house.” The mean tone in his voice pinches at your heartstrings and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You quickly wipe them away and regulate your breathing, not daring to let him hear your sniffles- you’d never hear the end of it.

“Okay. I’ll stop bothering you then.” You whisper disappointedly, heart sinking even more when you’re met with silence.

“I’m only down the road at a friend’s house. I’ll be back later tonight.” He sighs, as though revealing the simple information was a burden to him.

“You will?” You almost begin to float at the thought of him spending the night for once.

“Yes. You can bother me then.” He sneers.

“Okay!” You have to cover your mouth with your hand before the “can’t wait!” slips out of you. You anticipate that he’ll hang up but the seconds on your screen continue ticking on.

“What have you been doing today?” He asks with a faint curiosity and you’re taken aback by his unusual question.

“Oh! Um, I went shopping earlier.” You reprimand yourself for the stupid response. No wonder he thought you were nothing but an airhead- why couldn’t you have said you were reading classic literature or listening to metal?

“My old man give you a new credit card?” He questions and you blush with embarrassment. Your new stepfather was endlessly generous and as much as you loved being spoiled, you were concerned with the impression it left on Sam. “It’s alright. He loves you like you’re his own. Angel of the family. Probably glad he’s finally got a kid that isn’t a total mess now.” He adds before you can interject.

“Don’t say that, Sam. You’re not a mess.” You remark earnestly. You weren’t about to admit it but you thought the absolute world of him.

“Whatever. What’d you buy?” He brushes the subject off and you hear him exhale- he must be smoking again.

“Oh, I-uh. Well, I…” You stutter, remembering exactly what it is you’d bought earlier.

“Spit it out.” He retorts impatiently and you eye up the pink bag of lingerie sitting by the edge of your bed. “What? You buy something secret?”

“I mean, kinda. Not really. It’s stupid.” You shake your head in panic. “I bought some new bras and panties.”

Once you blurt out the delicate information, there’s an uncomfortably long pause.

“Cute. Bet you’ll look real pretty in it.” He chuckles lightly as he exhales again and a hot blush creeps over your whole face.

“Maybe. I haven’t tried it on yet.” You murmur, unsure how to process Sam complimenting you.

“What are you waiting for?” The sly smirk plastered on his face trickles into his words and you can picture it, clear as day.

“I-I don’t know” You stumble, putting the phone down and fishing your favourite selection out of the bag- a striped pink set complete with chiffon bows. Without a second thought, you strip down to nothing and slide on your new purchase before twirling to admire yourself in front of the mirror.

“How’s it looking?” Sam’s voice rings out on speakerphone.

“It’s pretty. Very flattering.” You said sweetly.

“Show me.”

His bold words stopped you in your tracks and you broke you out into a flurry of goosebumps.

“W-what?” You hesitated, wondering if you’d misunderstood something.

“You heard me. Show me.” He stated confidently.

Reluctantly, you approached your buzzing phone and peered at the screen to see an incoming FaceTime call from Sam. Against your better judgment, you accepted the request and fought the grin that threatened to envelop your face once your screen filled with his handsome, moody face.

“Hey there, princess.” He drawled smoothly, a joint hanging between his fingers.

“Hi.” You cooed, shyness consuming you. The sight of the mischievous glint in his blue eyes paired with the messy, dark hair that trailed down his forehead had you struggling to put a sentence together.

“Put the phone down on your table and give me a spin then.” He ordered more than asked.

Without a second word, you gently placed the phone on your vanity table and propped it up by the mirror before standing back with the same countenance as a skittish deer.

“Wow. Where’s that body been hiding?” He sniggers and you resist the urge to cover your heated face with your hands.

“Now let’s see the back.” He gestures for you to turn around and you follow his command, perching your ass in the air a little as you show him.

“Oh fuck yeah.” He expresses with a low, breathy tone. “Sit down for me.”

Somewhat confused, you situate yourself on the chair by your desk.

“Now lean back. Just like that, sweetheart.”

You follow his words without question, spurred on by the trust you had for him.

“Now spread your legs.” He said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world before taking a final drag of his joint and putting it out. When he sees you’re frozen in shock, he simply raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, as if to say “what?”

Anxiety racks your body- as well as deep, burning desire and a desperate urge to please him so you part your legs slowly, resting your heels on either edge of the chair.

“That’s it, baby. You’re so well behaved, aren’t you?” His snarky voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up but you’d do anything to hear him call you ‘baby’ again. “Why don’t you slide those off?” His intentions finally come into clear focus- all doubts fading away when you hear the faint clinking of his belt. Too far gone to turn back now.

You put your thighs together, feet swinging gracefully in the air as you gradually pull your panties off. You hear rustling on the other line as Sam’s eyes remain painstakingly fixated on you and the glistening wetness you’ve revealed to him. Dragging the pink fabric over your knees, you flick them off and spread your legs once again.

“L-like this?” You mumble anxiously, feeling chillingly exposed.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” He sighs as you hear the snap of his boxers.

“What are you doing, Sam?” You ask apprehensively, a warmth coming over you at the sound of his endearing words.

“You wanna see?” A darkness overcomes his eyes, already smudged with 2-day old eyeliner.

“Mhm.” You nod and he lowers the camera a couple of inches- just enough for his happy trail and lower hips to come into view.

“Are you sure?” He teases and you nod again without a second thought.

“Alright.”

Without further delay, his large cock springs up onto your screen- swollen veins snaking around his thick base and the tip a pretty blushed pink. You exhale a shaky breath at the sight- you’d never seen one before and you weren’t expecting that your stepbrother’s would be the first. His large hand grabs the shaft, stroking it with slow but firm pumps.

“I wanna see you doing the same now, princess.” He rasps, small groans escaping his parted lips between sinful words.

“Me?” You’re taken aback by his perverted request.

“Who else has got her legs spread? Yes, you. Put those pretty fingers to good use and touch yourself. Can you do that for me, baby?” He asks sternly and you have to look away from the camera when you notice how hungrily he’s staring at you.

“I don’t know, Sam…” Your mind clouds with doubt. “Isn’t this really fucked up?”

“The only thing that’d be fucked up is you backing out now.” He rebuked with the same aggression in his voice you’re used to hearing. “If you don’t do it now, I’ll do it myself when I get home.”

The thought of Sam’s fingers prodding somewhere so intimate both turned you on and freaked you out beyond measure. The dangerous stare in his glazed-over eyes served as a warning and you knew he wasn’t bluffing.

With bated breath, you snaked one hand between your legs and traced it down your puffy folds.

“Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing.” He sighs contentedly and resumes stroking his cock, the tip now a deeper pink and glassy with precum. “Now squeeze your tits with your other hand.”

You knew better than to argue back so you followed his orders, raising your free hand to knead your left breast.

“Pinch your nipple.” The expression on his handsome face contained nothing but dark, burning lust.

“Sammm…” You whined, consumed with embarrassment.

“Don’t make me come down there.” He scowled threateningly.

Anxiety racked your body but you could feel the wetness pooling in your cunt as you lightly pulled at your nipple.

“I wanna see you fucking yourself.” He announced ominously. “Come on, baby, use those fingers.”

“But Sam, I-I don’t do that. I don’t like it.” You mutter- you’d never tried before.

“Do it for me.” He insisted and you knew you couldn’t refuse.

Your middle finger outlined your opening- it was certainly wet enough to slide in easily, but you still felt scared. Wanting to complain and give up, you looked up at the phone still perched on your desk and saw him then- eyes intently fixed on you and stroking himself desperately, shirt lifted up just enough to reveal his toned abdomen. He looked a mess. And all for you?

Scrunching up your face, you slowly dipped a finger inside, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling and reprimanding yourself for not being strong enough to say no.

“Oh, you’re such a baby.” Sam shook his head. “And you’re not doing it right.”

“I don’t know what you want!” You moan frustratedly, pulling your hand away in defeat.

“I know. I’ll show you.” He affirms lowly.

“What?” You reach out and grab your phone.

“Stay right there.” He orders before hanging up, leaving you staring at the blank screen of your phone in confusion and horror. He wasn’t going to come here, was he?

You were too obedient to do anything but stay in place like he’d instructed but you were still tormented with anxious anticipation. It was one thing to mess around on the phone but something entirely different to take it to the next level. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cross that line.

You heard the heavy thud of footsteps traipsing up the stairs and your whole body froze. The door swung open and a smirking Sam entered the room with a cocky stride.

“You haven’t moved.” He notes, closing the door behind him and approaching you like a predator closing in on its prey.

“You told me not to.” You counter.

“That’s right.” He mutters to himself as he lies back against your headboard. “Come here, sweetie.” He beckons you over and you timidly go over to him, your back pressed against his open chest.

Sam rests his chin on your shoulder and inhales the scent of you, nuzzling up to the crook of your neck.

“Lie back for me.” You rest your bare self against him completely, slotting in between his legs. “Just like that. Now I’m going to show you how it’s done.”

“But- but you said if I did it myself then you wouldn’t.” You whined.

“I know doll but you didn’t do it right, did you?” He traced his hand down your slit and wasted no time before gathering the slick with two fingers and plunging them inside you.

“Sam!” You mewl at the unexpected intrusion.

“Shut up.” He curls his fingers and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You look down at the silver rings glimmering on his fingers, now sheathed inside you.

“You’re so soft and squishy.” He laughs mockingly, plunging his slender fingers in and out roughly. “And squelchy too. You hear that?” He speeds up for a moment to emphasise the lewd sounds of your wet pussy, arousal dripping down his hand already.

“You’re gonna let me play with you.” He fucks his fingers in and out of you with brutal precision. “Because that’s what big brothers do- and good little sisters listen.”

“But Sammy, it’s wrong.” You moan and he clamps your mouth shut with a big open hand before you can voice any more protests.

“You make the mistake of thinking I care what you want.” He palms your breast and takes your nipple between his fingers, squeezing at it hard. “You’re my little toy. A thing to play with. You understand?” You nod as much as you’re able to considering the state of delirium you had fallen into.

“Stop squirming and take it.” He slaps your breast harshly before sticking his thumb in your mouth; you suckle at it messily, drool dripping on your chin and down your cleavage.

“Too-too much Sam.” You wail, thighs shaking and closing in around his veiny arm.

“I don’t think so.” He yanks his fingers out so that he can force your legs open with both hands, pulling them apart as far as they could go before dipping his creamy fingers back in.

“Do you know what squirting is, baby?” He asks you calmly, deriving a sick pleasure out of compelling you to speak when you were clearly falling apart.

“Y-yes.” You choke out breathily.

“How?” He raises an eyebrow and snakes a hand around your neck. “Has my little sis been a slut?”

“No, no, I promise.” You shake your head desperately.

“How then? Been watching things you shouldn’t have?” He cocks his head around to face you and you shyly nod in response. “Ah, I thought so. That’s very naughty of you, sweetheart.” He chastises you, admiring how he’d turned you into a panting, dishevelled mess in no time at all.

His fingertips brushed against an undiscovered spongy spot inside you and your toes curled at the blazing sensation. You entered a trance and soon after you heard a wet gushing that spilled out and drenched your thighs and sheets.

“Such a good girl.” He kissed the side of your face sloppily. “Knew you could do it.”

You peered down and saw that his broad, veined forearm was dripping- creamy wetness dribbling from his fingertips.

“I-I did that?” You panted, confused.

“Sure did, baby. All you.” He started rubbing circles into your clit and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

“Sam, what are you doing?” You whined, head spinning with the mind-numbingly good way he was playing with you.

“I’m not done with my little toy.” He massages your swollen pussy, callous fingertips stroking against the delicate nub with dizzying speed. “Cum on my fingers, baby, cum all over them.”

You came undone, whimpering and crying out so loud the walls vibrated. Sam chuckled at the sight, looking down at your fucked out expression with cocky pride.

“We’re home!” Your mother’s voice rang out as the front door shut with a resounding slam and you scrambled to get dressed. Just as she climbed upstairs to reach your room, you’d gotten your dress back on- albeit backwards.

“Oh, hey Sam.” She peered in, noticing him sitting on the chair by your desk and he waved at her with a thin smile. “Did you get the milk like I asked?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He shrugged and she rolled her eyes.

“Everything slips your mind, sometimes I wonder if there even is a mind to speak of.”

“Mom!” You screwed your face up at her, hating how she and Sam bickered.

“What? He forgets everything.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively, about to head out the door before your dress caught her eye. “Is that a new way of wearing it that I don’t know about?” You look down as she points at the inside-out fabric.

“Yeah, mom. Contrast stitching is all the rage.” You nod persuasively.

“I’m getting old.” She sighs. “But it’s nice to see you two hanging out.”

“Oh we’re a regular Bonnie and Clyde.” Sam smirks and you laugh nervously, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into the strange comparison.

As soon as she’s gone, Sam shoots you a dark stare, lust infusing his eyes once again.

“You’re lucky they got back home when they did. I would’ve ruined you.” He remarks casually and you shuffle in your seat uncomfortably, burning under his intense gaze.

“You already did.” You gulp at his thinly veiled threat.

“Oh baby, you have no idea.”

Taglist:

@w0rsh1psells @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @emmalandry @slut4starwarssmut @ghostlycrystobalove @iamjustaholeforyousir @billy-stu-wh0re3 @mousie101-blog @sweetcheesecakesblog

୨୧ If you want to be removed from the Taglist or only want to be tagged for certain fics, please let me know ! ୨୧

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars fanfiction #life as a house

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ikeuverse · 13 days

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MR. FUNNY GUY — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor WC: 3.8k+

WARNINGS: a few swear words, mentions of alcohol. yeji, sunghoon's sister, is portrayed in this fic as being of age, because there is a part that insinuates that she has been drinking.

NOTES: this came to me as a totally random thought and made me want to write it, without pretension. yes, konon is written as jake's girlfriend just because i wanted something totally different, and i've never seen anyone put her as the girlfriend of any of the boys. idk, nothing special, hehehe. i hope you like it!

masterlist

Every group of friends consists of having outstanding personalities or a representative for each thing among them. Heeseung could be the personification of the funny kid.

He had always been in charge of making the best jokes and making everyone laugh ever since he met his friends at the end of high school and the beginning of university. With Heeseung around, it was as if there was no sadness at all.

Even his attitude was that of a big, awkward, funny guy, which gave him even more credit for his antics.

Heeseung was responsible for making Jake stop crying when he got his first low grade in calculus at university. Not even his girlfriend was able to cheer him up, but Heeseung trying to prepare a smoothie and forgot to close the lid of the blender, causing all the fruit and mixtures to fly around the kitchen... Oh, that got a good laugh out of Jake. And a few curses from Jay, for sure.

Heeseung was also responsible for making Sunghoon and Yeji cry with laughter a week after their puppy went missing. She was crying and he said he would help his friends find her, even if their hopes were slim. Heeseung did find her, but that didn't stop him from coming back all wet and with mud all over his shorts because the dog had wandered into a garden and he ran with his life to rescue her. Telling that story out loud made it all worthwhile in the end.

What Heeseung never managed was to get many smiles out of you, Yeji's best friend. It wasn't as if you and she joined Sunghoon's group of friends very often, but when you did, you were the only one who stayed quietly in the corner of the room and didn't crack a smile when he made a joke.

At first, it didn't make much difference to him, not least because you only appeared occasionally and Heeseung only found out about you sometime later. Because you really were so quiet that you seemed almost invisible. But as time went by and Yeji attended more and more of the boys' meetings – even more so after she and you made friends with Jake's girlfriend – Heeseung didn't want to admit it, but he started to feel a bit insulted.

Why weren't you laughing at his jokes? Why didn't you crack a single smile at his antics in front of his friends? You were supposed to hate him, in Heeseung's mind. That was the only explanation for why he never saw a single curved movement of your lips.

"Relax, man" Sunghoon said one night when the two of them were in the kitchen preparing the popcorn for the movie. "Yeji said that Y/n is like that, very closed," he took a larger bowl to pour the contents into, placing it next to another in case he needed a spare. "She took a while to open up to the girls, so maybe it's nothing personal."

So it would seem. Heeseung thought, rolling his eyes as he tried to forget about it and focus on the movie night they all had together.

A whole month passed and he tried not to focus on the thought that you didn't like him, because if that were the case, Heeseung would have gotten there first. He knew everyone there before you did, so if you didn't like him, you might as well not hang out with them anymore and just be friends with Yeji and Jake's girlfriend.

But no, that night what he wanted to happen happened. And without expecting much, without creating any expectations that you would smile at him.

"What are you three doing?" Sunghoon approached and ruffled Yeji's hair, hearing his little sister grumble and curse him for it.

"Trying to make sushi at home" she huffed "But Konon's the only one who can, and she gives the hardest tasks to me and Y/n to do."

"Come on, I think we're doing fine," you said, avoiding looking at Konon because you knew she was laughing at the two of you.

You held up a hot roll you had just rolled, hoping it wouldn't fall out of your hand and spill all the rice. Your eyes met Sunghoon's and then looked at Heeseung, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You're doing a great job," Sunghoon complimented.

"Yeah, long and crooked... Looks like Sunghoon" Heeseung pointed to the hotroll in his hand, and he almost shouted when he heard the sound of your laughter.

It wasn't possible what Heeseung's eyes were seeing at that moment. You. Laughing and then smiling at him... Did that really happen?

Sunghoon abruptly turned to Heeseung as if he was thinking the same thing. Of course, he and the boys were the only ones to hear Heeseung's lament that you never smiled at anything he did. But now it had just happened.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it again, because strangely Heeseung's heart was pumping in a way that he wasn't happy about. Not to mention the fact that, apart from thinking about your smile and the sound of your laugh for weeks, the boy wasn't proud to say that he had dreamt about it.

Was it stupid to say that he had actually dreamed of your smile? Shit, that couldn't be possible.

"Heeseung!" Jake shouted to get his friend's attention, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

"Fuck, what a fright" Heeseung wriggled in his chair "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for about five minutes, what world were you in?"

"In the world where Y/n keeps smiling at him" Sunghoon hummed.

Fucking bastard... How did Sunghoon have to be so direct like that? All right, his friends knew and couldn't stand to hear Heeseung fantasize about it for weeks, but hearing it out loud from someone else made him feel like a bit of an idiot.

"In my defense, I'm still in shock about this" he tried to say, hearing Jay's laughter from across the room.

"Still? How long has it been... like, three weeks? A month?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Heeseung were to count, it had been a month and a few days, because every month the girls tried to make a different food. And he distinctly remembers his skills – not unlike Konon's – in rolling the seaweed into sushi.

"Do you like her?" Jake sprawled further back on the sofa, almost throwing his legs over Heeseung's lap. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor staring at the TV while the movie was still playing.

"What? No" he said too quickly, regretting it the moment all the boys' eyes landed on him.

"Dude, you literally went to great lengths just to make her laugh for you" Jay got up from his chair to walk over to Sunghoon and sit down next to him on the floor.

"And when that happened, you didn't stop talking about it the whole time," Jake added.

"I said you could all make me stop talking—"

"We don't want to, it's cute" Sunghoon smiled "Besides I think it happened a few more times after sushi night."

"What?" it was Heeseung's turn to shout, startling Jake who was cursing at him quietly as he curled up on the sofa.

At that moment Heeseung was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth near the TV and watching his friends with mixed feelings. Jake was still recovering from his shock, Sunghoon was pressing his lips together, feeling guilty for saying it just then. While Jay held in his laughter and closed his eyes to wait for the conversation to unfold.

"You're just telling me about this now? Fuck Sunghoon, what do you mean?"

"Dude, I'm sorry" he said, "It's just that you got so excited about it that if I told you she smiled a few more times, you might explode."

"I'm exploding right now" from the coloring of his face, it could be possible.

What do you mean you smiled at Heeseung or something related to him and Sunghoon didn't say anything at all? Now he wanted to know, what was the occasion? Had he done something funny, said something at the wrong time, or made a joke? Or did you genuinely smile just because he was around? What had been the circumstance in which you smiled at him?

"All your gears are turning at the moment and I think it's my fault" Sunghoon got up from the floor, straightening his pants and then sighing, "But she smiled at times when you weren't looking."

"Why?"

"Look, I know your mind because I've lived with you for years, but I have no idea what she was thinking about it" Sunghoon's words had a unique effect on Heeseung. He was even more pensive.

"Yeah, he's right," Jake said.

"You too..." Heeseung then turned to Jay.

"Dude, we talked about this for hours and worked it out together," he defended himself, cringing when the other threatened to approach.

"Hey, calm down!" Sunghoon held him by the shoulders even though he knew his friend would do absolutely nothing to any of the three "Now that you know, you can do something about it."

"Yes, kill the three of you."

"Or talk to her and ask why" Jake shrugged and stood up, giving his best smile in response "Now how about we order something to eat? I'm starving."

"No, no more drinks for you today, young lady" Sunghoon snatched the glass from Yeji's hand, listening to his sister's protests even though she was already a little upset.

"But hey, we're celebrating" she tried to catch it, but to no avail, her older brother was taller and would surely use that to his advantage.

"Celebrating what? The loss of your liver?" Heeseung looked around at the number of glasses on the kitchen counter.

He sighed as he imagined that the owner of that house would have an extremely difficult time cleaning up, but his thoughts were soon cut loose by the sound of laughter that flooded the room. His body went still and his eyes widened at the sight of your standing in front of the kitchen door.

"Hey, Heeseung, you look like you've seen a haunting" you waved at him, smiling briefly and then turning your eyes back to the Park siblings.

"He just heard something" Sunghoon added.

Not knowing what it was, you didn't bother asking him and just walked into the kitchen where the three of them were still standing.

"What's going on?" you asked.

"Yeji's already drunk, so let's go home."

"But she's celebrating," you pouted "It's not every day you get an A in Professor Choi's class."

"The worst professor at that university" Yeji picked up a glass to raise and pretend to toast, then put it back on the counter.

"But you've had enough, so I think you'd better go home" he looked at his sister and then at you "Has Jake taken Konon yet?"

"They just got home, Jay told me as soon as I came into the kitchen" you looked around for something to drink "And you two, what are you doing here?"

Sunghoon had gone after Yeji before he left and Heeseung had been in charge of looking for you, so the two of them could take you home safe and sound. But he didn't want to say that out loud.

"We came after you two," Sunghoon replied.

"Okay, let's go" Yeji whined "I won't be able to finish my drink anyway."

"Not even if we just have one more beer? It'll be quick and—"

"Nope" Heeseung stood in front of you when you threatened to approach the fridge. Looking up thanks to his height, this was the closest he had come to you since you two met.

It might have been the effect of the drink or the moment itself, but he looked glistening and that had – strangely – made your heart flutter.

Blame the drink, blame the drink, please.

"Come on Y/n, these two dullards don't know what fun is" Yeji pushed past Heeseung, ignoring his protests as she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.

"That's it man, a few more moves and you two would be kissing in this kitchen" Sunghoon held Heeseung by the shoulders without missing an opportunity to tease him.

He acted on instinct to stand in front of you so that you wouldn't advance into the kitchen, right? He also ignored the distance between the two of you because he miscalculated his steps and Sunghoon was right to say how close you and Heeseung were. But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as quickly as possible.

And that happened when Jay's voice echoed in Heeseung's ears, standing next to his friend's car.

"Can you take Y/n home?" he asked. Heeseung didn't want to show his shock, but the orbs almost popping out in the expression that caught him off guard made Jay laugh right away "I've had a few drinks and I certainly won't be able to drive."

"But—"

"Take her and come back for me" Jay handed Heeseung the keys to his car.

"Why don't you just go along? I can drop you home later."

"Because I'm not finished here yet" Jay's lips protruded forward in a pout, he took a few steps away from Heeseung, nodding and smiling at his friend "And I don't want to witness anything pornographic in my car. Unless I'm the one doing it," he shouted the last part and Heeseung turned sharply in the direction you were with the Park siblings.

He would have given anything at that moment for you to be so drunk that you hadn't heard any of the shit Jay had said so far.

"Where's Jongseong going?" Yeji asked when he saw the boy disappearing among some people in the garden of the house.

"He said he didn't finish whatever it is in there" Heeseung sighed "Come on Y/n, I'll take you home."

None of you missed the mischievous giggle that escaped from Yeji, soon to be joined by Sunghoon. Heeseung knew very well about his friend, but why did his little sister even seem to be complicit?

"Do you know where I live?" you asked so naturally that Heeseung had forgotten how serious you were whenever you were around him.

"No, but you can tell me while we go in Jay's car," he said, and you just agreed and let him guide you to the vehicle. Neither of you cared what the Park siblings said as you and Heeseung walked to Jay's car. He showed himself to be a tremendous gentleman by opening the door for you and checking that everything was okay until you buckled your seatbelt so he could close the door and turn the car around.

"Can we go?" he asked and you nodded, giving Heeseung the coordinates so he could get to your house.

For Heeseung, the silence was necessary while he reorganized his thoughts because, for the first time, he was in a place alone with you. That had never happened since the two of you met.

Now for you, the silence was agonizing because it made you think and observe. To think about how hard you'd tried to get away from that man next to you and to observe how well he drove. His hands firmly gripping the leather of the steering wheel, his long fingers drumming now and then when they stopped at a traffic light or how agile his hand was at holding the gearshift. You also found yourself swallowing when his hand accidentally hit your leg when changing gears. He wasn't doing it on purpose, you knew that, but it was inevitable not to smile quickly.

"We're here" he was the first to break the silence, indicating that he had followed your coordinates very well, and now the two of you were parked inside Jay's car and in front of your apartment complex.

You looked out of the window, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked back at the boy in the car sitting next to you.

"Thanks, Heeseung" you said sincerely, opening a smile when his eyes met yours. Heeseung smiled too, but he didn't look so happy about it. He seemed... Annoyed?

"Can I ask you something, Y/n?" he said just like that, not even bothering to respond to your thanks. But you didn't mind either, after all, your sobriety was starting to kick in, but even so, your alcohol-addled body made you more curious than usual.

"Anything," you said.

It took him a while to formulate that question, pondering whether he should really ask it or just let it go and get on with his life as if it didn't affect him. But it certainly did. Heeseung knew why he had dreamt it, he had to ask.

"Why haven't you ever smiled at me?" might seem like a silly question from the outside, or even sad if the person was as sentimental as Heeseung.

At first, your eyebrows drew together in surprise. But then everything relaxed and you unbuckled your belt to turn around and face the boy.

"What do you mean?"

Heeseung repeated your gesture a few seconds later, unbuckling his belt and turning to face you too.

"I mean, ever since we met you've never smiled at anything I've done," he shrugged, trying to sound firm in his words, not wanting to waver or show how ridiculous it might seem "Surely Yeji has already let it slip that I'm the clown of the group and, I don't know, you're the only person who's never given me a single smile."

"Does that bother you?"

No. He should answer, to appear tougher.

"Yes, a little" Heeseung didn't want to follow his thoughts, he wanted to act on the emotion of the moment "I thought you didn't like me or, at worst, thought I was so dull that you begged the girls to get away every time we met in a group."

He was being so honest with you, opening up so genuinely that you felt a little bad. Maybe your way of acting on everything you'd heard hadn't been nice, you might have been a bit extreme with it.

"I'm sorry" was all you managed to say, without knowing exactly why you were apologizing. Whether it was for your reaction or for never getting to Heeseung and wanting to get to know him.

"Why?" he asked.

You didn't want him to ask, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself, you'd get out of the car and drive away. But Heeseung's sparkling eyes seemed to call out to you every second, guiding you to him as if you belonged there, staring at him as the words came freely out of his mouth.

"We have a group of friends at college and certainly Yeji's brother and his friends are sometimes a topic," your gaze quickly shifted to the window behind Heeseung. Anything being more interesting than his eyes paying attention to you right now "I once commented that... Well..."

"Say, it's okay," he tried to encourage you and you looked back at him, could blame it on the drink if something got out of hand, and would say the next day that you didn't remember anything you were saying. Even though by then your sobriety had reached more than half of your body.

"I told I thought you were very handsome" you nibbled your lower lip and continued, not even giving Heeseung time to process the information "A friend of ours said that you were not only handsome but funny, but that was a danger."

"What? Why?" he tried to shake off the tingling feeling in his chest and his cheeks heating up at the confession. So you thought he was handsome from the start.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of the funny boy being a danger?" you crossed your arms and snorted when Heeseung denied it with a nod "He'll make you laugh so much, you'll laugh. Laugh and laugh until you're naked in his bed."

It was his turn to laugh, hiding his face with his hands and messing up his hair.

"Shut up, don't laugh," you groaned in frustration, uncrossing your arms and trying to push his hand away from your face. The contact was electrifying, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Heeseung uncovered his face and looked at you.

"So Yeji's friend said that about me, and you believed it?" Heeseung wanted to sound confident as he raised an eyebrow, even though, if he had to get out of that car, his legs would be as soft as jelly.

"Well..." a few seconds passed and you sighed, "I avoided contact so I wouldn't have to believe it. I don't know, preserve myself as much as possible since you seem to be well known at the university."

"So you didn't want to smile at me because you thought you'd end up in my bed?" Heeseung leaned forward a little, looking a little defiant. You leaned forward too, your hands resting on your lap.

"You make all the girls smile, what difference would it make if I smiled at you?"

Don't be so honest, Heeseung thought to himself, but it was already done when he launched into it.

"Maybe because your smile is beautiful and when that happened on sushi night, I ended up dreaming for a long time."

"What? Did you dream about my smile?" you almost shouted in the car.

"Too many questions for one night, don't you think?" Heeseung pretended to shake himself, looking for the car keys that he hadn't even taken out of the ignition. Turning on the air conditioning might be a good idea since neither of you made any mention of leaving.

"Too many confessions for one night" you leaned back in your seat.

"I think we're going to need a few more nights for you to tell me more" he also leaned back in his seat, but his head remained turned in your direction.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Would you?" he asked back, a stupid – but extremely beautiful – smile adorning his lips as he said again, "I want to prove that friend of yours completely wrong."

"I'd love that, then" to his surprise, asking you out had been completely light-hearted. He didn't feel like throwing up or running away, or even saying something silly, stuttering... Nothing. Heeseung was just himself as he watched you bend down to him and brush your lips against the corner of his.

From the way Heeseung's head was tilted, giving indications that he wasn't going to move, you purposely kissed him on the corner of the lips, pulling away before he made any risky moves.

"I'm waiting for a message from you so we can make an appointment, mr. funny man."

You winked at him, watching as the tip of Heeseung's tongue traced the exact spot where your lips touched the corner of his. The smile never left him as he watched you open the door, wave, and close it to leave.

A smile had never left Lee Heeseung like that.

#enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen masterlist #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfics #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines

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xreaderanonaccount · 6 months

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Fatui Harbinger x GN!Reader Headcannon

Ships: Fatui Harbingers (minus Pucinella and Sandrone) x reader (poly)

Synopsis: What's it like being the Feared Fatui Harbingers darling?

Tags: Fluff, Crack, hugging, kissing, hand-holding

A/N: Just some random thoughts. I honestly think Sandrone would not have a S/O cause of her lore and how crazy she is. And Pucinella is just an old man.. hey not judging if that's your type. Just not mine

Divider credits: cafekitsune

Dating all the Fatui Harbingers is a full time job, not only are you being showered with Mora and gifts from some of the richest people in Teyvat you deal with all their petty drama.

Like a mother to all your boyfriends and girlfriends.

They come barging into your room ranting about what the other harbingers have done. How they “ruined” their plans.

This mainly comes from Dottore and Pantalone. Sometimes one will come into the room and start ranting while the other is close behind.

Pierro, Columbina, Arlecchino, and Capitano are the tamer of the bunch. If you need peace and quiet from the drama you go to them. They’ll shower you with kisses and treats to make you feel better.

But don’t get me wrong the other half would absolutely shower you with love… in their own weird twisted fates.

Like dottore wouldn’t experiment on you but will weirdly give you a still beating heart claiming his undying love for you.

Tartaglia would train you to fight because he wants you to fend for yourself (and to also spar with him much to Capitano’s dismay)

During the fatui meetings they would have a special room setup for you with a little place to relax.

And as soon as the meeting ends it’s kind of like school lunch where kids would run so fast to the lunchroom to be first in line. Like that but in a more calm manner.

Except for Childe

He would be that kid that would run straight to the lunchroom. He would burst through the room scaring you to death yelling “BABE!”

He would engulf you in a bear hug

It would take Capitano to take him off of you by how tight of a hold he has on you.

Dates with the Harbingers is always fun, whatever you want to do they would absolutely provide.

Want to go to an Opera? Pantalone has VIP tickets to the latest popular show.

Want to eat at a fancy restruant? Arlecchino reserved a whole restruant in Fontaine.

Want to just relax and read? Columbina would cuddle with you as she reads you a book

Want a nice stroll in the stormy winter? Capitano will walking with you, and he'll make sure you'll have his thick fluffy jacket swamping you.

Kisses are always fun, the variety of kisses you would recieve varies from mood and who is giving you the kiss.

Capitano and Pierro is always so soft and gentle, he's a big man and he doesn't want to hurt you. His lips always ghosting your skin, milimeters away from your lips. His giant bear hands gently cupping your face as he plants a gentle kiss.

The exact opposite of Dottore, that man will straight up bite you with his shark teeth.

Your lips will be bloodly and bruise when he's done with you. He's rough when he's kisses you.

He would forcefully grab your face with one hand and shove his lips on you. He wouldn't give a romantic kiss, never. But it's always one of greed and tension.

He's got some pent up anger he needs to release. And that just so happens to be your mouth.

Arlecchino is soft...ish. She would be soft but part of her would spice it up with fun.

Loves teasing you she would pretend like she was going to kiss you and but then suddenly pull away. Saying something like "oh someone needs me." Always has a shit eating grin on her face when she makes up some bull excuse.

Columbina and Childe is always a gamble, it would either be soft and tender or chaotic and rough. Really depends on what they are feeling.

Unless it's infront of his family, Childe would be all lovey dovey infront of his family. But would absolutely tease you when they're not looking

Pantalone is a no PDA guy in public except for his arm sling around your waist. Other than that kisses are only for the most intimate moments. When it's just you two, and no one else to disrupte them.

#genshin impact #fatui harbingers #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #alrecchino x reader #columbina x reader #capitano x reader

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bythepen98 · 1 year

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@zutaramonth Day 3: After all these years ||

I just love the idea of them learning to dance together and being so very cute and awkward about it at first 🥺💕.

Brief backstory:

Although they were busy preparing for the war, they still needed time to have fun and de-stress so a small feast with music and dancing seemed like a good idea. Zuko and Katara were pushed to spend time together by the rest of the Gaang because they've had enough of the weird distance between the two, brought by brewing feelings that both weren't sure about acknowledging yet. At this point, they've already resolved most of their issues and were on track to becoming really good friends until the 'complication' happened.

Feelings can be ass sometimes fr.

Somehow, what started as a one time, peer pressured, clumsy bonding attempt between two hyperaware-of-each-other teenagers ended up lasting longer than expected. Excuses would be made to continue dancing together because once the initial awkwardness has passed, they found that it was actually quite relaxing (especially for two usually hot headed people) just going through the motions and communicating with looks and gentle touches what they had zero courage to say out loud. Both were also restless and couldn't always spend their hours training so dancing felt like fair game. A very pleasant and completely platonic way of passing the time with a good friend, or at least that's what they told themselves.

Then the war ended, feelings were finally acknowledged and returned now that there was enough time to reflect and actually do something about it and time continued to pass. No matter the changes and busy schedules that came with adulthood and bearing the responsibilities of ruling/helping rule a nation, some things remained constant. Though they never broadcasted it, the Gaang knew that Katara and Zuko would sometimes be found at night just swaying in each other's arms while they quietly talked about their day. It became a tradition - their way to bond and reconnect after a busy day. It was also muscle memory at this point and something they would naturally drift to doing when the opportunity arose. If they weren't training, lounging and drinking tea or walking arm in arm along the courtyard for a stroll, they'd be dancing.

Ofc the dances varied. Most of the time it was simple, intimate, and didn't require much energy. It was during festivals and other special events where they'd let loose and swap partners with their friends. They definitely would've taught each other's traditional dances too. Most of the time they stuck to couple dances though.

The two would then make it to their golden years surrounded by friends and family. In this au, Aang, Sokka and Suki are definitely still alive and kicking and they, together with Toph, would reminisc about the good old days and pat themselves in the back for helping get Zuko and Katara together. They would've gotten together eventually anyway but the Gaang just sped up the process and the credit for starting the whole dancing tradition goes to them. Aang isn't afraid to admit that he and whoever he married in this au also partake in said tradition; Sokka and Suki would do so every now and then but they much prefer exchanging swords as their love language; Toph is indifferent and much prefers just sitting back and letting them enjoy themselves.

This is way over due but I'm glad I was able to finish it. Will sadly be the only prompt I'll be able to do for zutara month bc life threw a wrench and made me too busy, though I'm still interested in making the other prompts at a later date. /N

#zutara month 2023 #day 3 #after all these years #zutara #zutara fanart #zuko x katara #zuko fanart #katara fanart #atla #avatar the last airbender #not a writer but I couldn't help including a very brief background that popped while drawing this

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hvlplvss · 5 months

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| have yourself a merry little christmas

| colby brock x reader

summary: in which colby brock has never liked the idea of christmas. he’s never enjoyed it or wanted to celebrate by decorating. but his girlfriend loves the holiday. decorating the house in anyway she could. but a few words may cause colby’s hate for christmas to melt.

warnings: angst, reader cries, colby says a few means things lol, happy ending though !!

authors note: this is inspired by a steve harrington fic i saw last xmas, but the author has deactivated their account!!! but credits to them for this idea :)

colby brock has never really liked christmas. he always thought of it as a burden. having to decorate the house and be all cheery for an entire month, just to celebrate one day.

he didn’t understand why he hated it so much; but he just did. he couldn’t get behind the idea of christmas, or decorating, or christmas trees. you name it, colby brock probably didn’t like it.

however his girlfriend y/n, adored christmas. it was her favourite time of the year and it had been ever since she was young. she loved decorating and making the holiday special for the younger ones in her family. she loved the presents, she loved the food and the whole idea.

so when christmas was quickly approaching, y/n couldn’t help but speak about the holiday. she would sometimes speak to colby about it, despite knowing he didn’t love the day. but her and sam would talk about it as sam would listen to the girl yap about christmas.

seen as it was their first christmas together and y/n had come to realise that colby did in fact not like christmas, she made it her goal to make him enjoy it this year.

y/n had already begun preparing little things for christmas. it was only the middle of november and she had already planned the christmas tree, the lights which she’d put up outside, the gifts she was getting everyone. and by everyone, it meant everyone.

anyone who she would call a friend, or even a civil friendship, would receive a gift from the girl. wether it be bought or handmade, she’d make sure everyone got something this christmas.

but as the days slowly crept round to the first of december, y/n was ecstatic.

colby’s eyes slowly opened, squinting due to the lack of sleep the boy received last night after coming home from a meeting at silly o’clock in the morning.

he noticed the empty space in the bed beside him. y/n wasn’t there. which was strange and unusual as usually the girl was the last one to wake up between the two off them.

he reached for his phone checking the time, which read 6:37am.

what was y/n doing? there was no way she chose to be up at this time in the morning. it’s not like she had anything special going on today.

colby gave himself a minute to fully wake up, stretching his legs and arms and closing his eyes one last time before sliding out the side of the bed.

colby walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. this is why she was awake so early. he thought.

the whole downstairs of the house was now silver with christmas decorations. tinsel, little trinkets of decoration, a christmas countdown which had rotating blocks so you could change it every morning.

“y/n?” colby called out. there were a few moments of rustling and a box being put down.

y/n came into view from the kitchen door, adorned in fluffy socks and a big christmas jumper that was many sizes too big for her.

“what’s going on?” colby asked, “why does the house look so ‘christmassy’” colby shuddered at the word as though it was bad for him to say it.

“it’s the first of december, colbs!” y/n beamed, “it’s finally christmas time!”

colby strolled into the kitchen, looking at what y/n was doing.

she was baking. baking christmas cookies. and she might as well be feeding the entire state with the amount she had made.

“what are all these for?” he asked.

“christmas cookies! i’m gonna take them to the nursing home,” she explained, “i’ve done it every year!” she pulled a rack out the oven and placed even more cookies on the side. “you don’t think i’ve gone overboard right?”

“what? no? i think it’s sweet, y/n,”

“okay, good. i mean if i’ve made to many they can always have two each, or maybe even three!”

colby placed a hand on his girlfriends cheek, “hey, calm down. it’ll be fine, i promise you,” he spoke softly, “but maybe just also calm down on all the decorations, yeah?”

y/n faltered at his words, “you don’t like them?” she asked disheartened.

“no, i-i do. just… just not use to it, yeah?” colby answered quickly, not wanting to upset her.

she nodded in response, looking back over her cookies once more. “right, i’m going to let these cool down, then get ready and go out to give them to the nursing home and then come home and decorate the tree!” she planned.

colby sighed, trying to hide his slight annoyance that he was coming to terms with. he loved the girl, but he hated this christmas spirit she had.

y/n had arrived home after successfully handing out her christmas cookies, 174 cookies to be exact, (she now realised she may have gone overboard).

y/n walked through the front door, taking her shoes off, leaving them next to colby’s.

as she strolled through the house, she arrived into the living room where colby was sat with his laptop.

she stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“hey colbs,” she smiled.

colby looked up to look at his girlfriend, he smiled back at her and kissed her lips. “how was it?” he asked.

“good! they were happy to see me again! said i should go see them more often,” she told colby.

“bless them. they probably don’t get many visitors so they’re probably pleased to see you!” he answered, to which y/n nodded.

colby turned back to his laptop as y/n had walked away into the corner of the living room.

she opened a box which held various christmas tree decorations. she’d used the box for as many christmases as she could remember, it even had some of the baubles that her parents had bought when she was a toddler.

y/n slowly began decorating the tree, adding the lights, the baubles, the tinsel and so on.

but it took her quite some time due to her being an extreme perfectionist and if things weren’t equal on the tree, she’d restart or take the last few things off and then redo them.

so to say it took y/n a long time to decorate the tree was an understatement. she was an hour and 45 minutes in and she still hadn’t finished.

colby was still sat in the same spot on the couch, growing slightly agitated with his girlfriend.

she was talking to herself, muttering and whispering ideas. and as harsh as it sounds, she was really getting on his nerves. he was just trying to edit a video for the channel, but y/n couldn’t be quiet.

her voice broke him out of his thoughts, “colbs? which do you think looks better? the silver bauble or the gold bauble?” he looked up, glaring, but y/n was too carried away to even notice the change in his demeanour.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged, “silver?” colby answered, looking back down at his laptop.

y/n turned back to the christmas tree, deciding wether to go with her boyfriends advice or not.

y/n had officially finished decorating the christmas tree, after nearly two and a half hours, she only had one job left to do which was the star on top.

but the tree seemed to have quite a big height advantage on the girl, so she turned back around to colby.

“colbs, can you help me put the star on?” he tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard y/n, hoping that she would leave it and work the problem out herself; but she didn’t. “colbs?”

colby’s head snapped up, “what?!”

“can you help me put the star on, please?” she asked sheepishly.

“look!” colby began, placing his laptop off of his lap, “i’m trying to work, okay? but you are just constantly talking or asking me something about christmas or the decorations! when i don’t even care! i’m sick of all this christmas shit, y/n!”

y/n’s eyes glossed over at his harsh voice and choice of words and her bottom lip quivered.

“oh,” she spoke quietly.

colby could see what he had done. why did he get angry? why did he yell at her? he made her upset and he could tell.

y/n turned around and placed the star down back in the box, then turning to walk out of the living room, “y/n! wait- i didn’t-” but y/n shook her head and walked out of the room, heading upstairs.

colby shook his head and sighed, “fuck,” well done colby, well done.

y/n had been significantly quieter that day. when colby came upstairs for bed, y/n didn’t speak unless colby spoke to her first. she hadn’t even left the room due to how embarrassed she felt.

but the following day, y/n was still asleep when colby woke up. so, he quietly got dressed, trying not to wake y/n up, knowing it’d be an awkward encounter for the couple. plus colby also wanted to go food shopping as they began running out of food in their fridge and should stock up before everything runs out in the stores.

so while colby was out, y/n had gone about the house and took down each decoration. she didn’t want colby to feel annoyed by all the christmas things.

she just wanted to warm him up to the idea of christmas, but from what he said last night, it clearly wasn’t working.

taking down the christmas tree was way quicker than putting it up, y/n came to realise.

once everything had been tucked back into their boxes, y/n had gone back upstairs to just lay down in bed. ever since colby said that, y/n had felt a lack of energy. she was hurting. she was so excited for her first christmas with colby, but it wasn’t going the way she hoped.

sam had stopped by the couples house, dropping off the other laptop they shared for editing videos. the boy let himself in as he’d been allowed a key to the house, due to his frequent visits.

“colby? y/n?” he called out.

y/n walked out of her room grudgingly, walking down the stairs. “hi,” she said.

“hey,” he answered, “are you okay?”

he could tell something was up. she wasn’t being cheery like she had been on the lead up to december, or when she spoke about how excited she was for it to be december soon enough. she nodded.

“where’s all the decorations?” sam asked, looking around the house, “i thought you said you were gonna decorate on the first, and it’s now the second?”

y/n looked down, trying to come up with an excuse, “oh, i just had a really busy day yesterday, i didn’t find the time to,” she lied.

sam nodded, not believing her in the slightest. “i was coming to give colby this, but i’ll just tell him to drop by before he comes home,” y/n nodded, “call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“yeah,” she muttered, “bye sam,”

“bye y/n,” he turned back around, closing the door behind him.

sam hopped into his car, pulling his phone out of his pocket and going to message sam.

stop by mine later, need to give you the other laptop and also need to speak to you

colby had just arrived outside of sam’s appartment. he stepped out the car and walked to the house, opening the door.

“sam!” colby yelled. the said boy walked out from the kitchen and to colby, “you alright?” colby asked.

“yeah, just need to ask a few things and also give you the laptop,” sam answered, walking back into the kitchen, colby following his trail.

“yeah, what’s up?”

sam sighed, “why is your house not decorated?” sam asked. colby furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “i mean, y/n wouldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to decorate and how she was gonna do it on the first, but when i stopped by earlier there was nothing,”

“wait- what do you mean, there was nothing?” colby asked, slightly puzzled.

“i stopped by, and there were no decorations. like at all. it looked like your everyday house. no signs of christmas, at all,” sam explained.

colby thought about it for a moment, taking a seat at the kitchen island. “shit,” he muttered, placing his head in his hands.

“what?”

colby sighed, “i got angry yesterday, when y/n was decorating. she kept asking me questions and i was really rude and i yelled at her. i saw her face, sam. she was nearly crying, i mean she probably did cry, but she kept it hidden from me,” colby explained, “fuck! i feel so awful, sam,”

sam shook his head, “you should have heard her before. she rarely spoke to you about it cause she knew you hated it, so she’d talk to me about christmas things. but she was so excited for it, colby. you’ve messed this up, bro,”

“i know…” he sighed, “i just- i’m not use to it, and i know that doesn’t excuse it, because it doesn’t, i shouldn’t have gotten angry,”

“glad you realised that!” sam answered.

tomorrow was christmas. the day y/n was once looking forward to, but now didn’t even want to hear anything about it. she’d gone to bed quite early on christmas eve due to working all day.

colby had said he’d be up to bed in a few hours as he had a few things left to catch up on, like meetings and editing things and so on.

but colby didn’t come to bed until 3:27 in the morning.

colby spent six hours decorating downstairs. decorating the house how y/n had once made it. making it christmassy. how a house should be.

he even went shopping to buy all the food he would need for the dinner the next day. especially as the boy had invited everyone and everybody round for christmas dinner.

he had been so busy that time went quicker than he thought it had. he didn’t even notice when the clock struck 3am how long he’d actually been busy for.

and as he reached to put the star on the tree, he remembered what he said that day where he ruined y/n’s christmas cheer. but he hoped this would bring it back.

sure, colby still didn’t understand the whole christmas idea, but if it made his girlfriend happy, then he would learn about the christmas spirit.

when y/n woke up that dreaded morning, she noticed that colby was missing. she assumed he’d left as maybe he felt awkward, or that he’d gone to visit sam early.

but when y/n actually came round and fully woke up, she noticed the smell coming from downstairs. y/n furrowed her brows in confusion, so she stood up out from her bed and walked out of her room.

as she looked down the stairs she realised what colby had done.

the entire house had become ‘christmassy’. colby had redone all of y/n’s decorations and exactly how she had done them. everything was the same.

“colbs?” y/n called out.

colby rounded the corner of the kitchen, a smile playing on his lips, “d’you like it?” he asked.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, running to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“i love it, colbs. thank you,” she whispered.

“no, thank you,” he said, placing his hands on her face, making her look at him, “i was horrible to you that day. you were so excited about christmas and i ruined that, i’m so sorry,” he apologised.

y/n leaned in to kiss colby’s lips gently, planting a soft kiss to them. “i forgive you,” she replied, “but pleaseeeee can i give you your gifts now? i’ve been waiting for months to give you them!”

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader #smut #sam and colby smut

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wispythreads · 6 months

Text

I did catch on to that part of it with him bouncing between jobs so frequently, and some of the other things like the fridge freezer, but they were still included in the jumbled up thoughts I listed out partly because I was thinking about them before coming to an answer, and partly because I'm not fully sure if those answers are all there is to it.

Cause, yeah, there’s the newspaper clipping rebuking him for being “unprofessional and brash” (which damn that’s also just rotating in my head because Vince was clearly reading this specific clipping earlier and blatantly lied saying Rody hadn’t been mentioned at all, later scribbling out the section talking about the waiter), he’s very clearly messy and unkempt in pretty much every aspect of his life, and even if he gets the to-go question right in the tutorial, Vince appends the "Good work." with "keep tone in mind."

But, the thing is, he does know a lot of the basics. Much of the tutorial is really just for the benefit of the player to know how the mechanics of the game works, Rody meanwhile nods along and does whatever task is needed without comment, only getting tripped up when Vince mentions the way the menu for his bistro works, and when the aforementioned customer asked if he could get boxes to go or call in his order ahead of time. Which I think are reasonable things to get tripped up on! Those seem like things that would vary depending on the establishment he was working for.

I keep thinking about his reaction when Vince pivoted the conversation of "do you actually like your job" onto Rody. His awkward response that it paid him money. Vince voicing specifically “I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living-”, and that being met with how there was “something” Rody went to school for, that he was too hesitant to tell Vince, feeling he’d get made fun of. The impression that its some passion he had that just didn't work out. The revelation later that the “something” in question was him majoring in hospitality.

He was afraid he'd be made fun of for actively going to school and choosing to study for skills that, either ironically or purposefully, would've been useful for his current job of waiting tables. A goal that he flunked out of. He has had 28 jobs in the service industry over the course of 7 years. He keeps losing his job, but he also keeps getting hired.

I keep thinking of the post-credits scene of the Best Served Hot, whisky lemon cake ending. "I can't keep watching you ruin any semblance of progress you make with yourself while trying to make me happy, it's exhausting-"

He's only 4 days into this job when he approaches Vince for a raise. He already figures he'll have enough to do something nice for Manon, his "girlfriend," by the end of the week, but he wants more to make it really special. He is very clearly told 'no.'

On the 5th day, when his shift is finally over and done, we don't next see him as we usually do, back at his apartment. He's still at the bistro, all the lights turned out. The only other person presumably being Vince hacking away at the meat in the freezer that'll be used for the meals in the morning. The first time I went through that night, I presumed Rody had just been selected to stay late and help clean up for the night, with whatever Vince was doing in the background ominous horror ambience to be unsettled by.

But we can't really do anything while there that would support this initial assumption. There are only two things you can do. Snoop around in Vince's office, and... steal from the cash register. Whether you avoid doing the latter as I did or not, it has no bearing on whatever ending you get, but just the fact that it's even an option to Rody...

How many other times did he allow his love for Manon to rule over his decisions, making choices in the pursuit of what he believed would make her happy, no matter the cost, before finally facing a price for his obsession beyond the scope of his worst nightmares?

...

And after all that I do want to defend the rollerskates a bit because

Rollerskates in restaurants are kinda a thing, in the 1960s (the year this game is set) they were a pretty popular gimmick/tool for diners in the U.S. at least, not sure about elsewhere in the world unfortunately

Yeah he canonically brought and proceeded to wear rollerskates to work at a fancy bistro. But that also means Vince watched him show up to work one day, wearing rollerskates, and just let him do it. Just watched Rody roll around his fancy bistro attending to customers that expect the highest of professionalism, and said nothing.

#dead plate #dead plate spoilers #rody #bit of play experience #sort of #hopefully this makes sense for others reading this my thoughts still feel very jumbled up

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foreingersgod · 14 days

Note

need need need something about Caitlin being obsessed with her girlfriend and talking about her non stop in interviews, insta ect

Obsessed . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin always finds a way to talk about you

A/N: NOT PROOF READ

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

1. interviews

it was the end of an amazing game, not just for iowa, but especially for caitlin. she hadn’t played a game that well in her entire career, scoring more than her average and making shots from deeper than ever before. she had everyone on their feet the entire night cheering for her as she completely annihilated the other team.

you were there to watch her, as you were every other game. watching caitlin play had to be one of your favorite, most rewarding things to watch as a girlfriend. she’s worked for hard for long and she was finally getting the recognition she deserves.

after the post-game excitement had worn off, the team prepared for the following interviews. typically, you didn’t stick around for them, opting to head home and wait for caitlin so you could congratulate her in your own special way. but with such an amazing game for caitlin, you decided to stick around and watch.

it was like she was a natural, surrounded by all the microphones and flashing cameras. she looked proud and confident, ready for any and all questions. they asked her the usual questions and she answered assertively. but one particular question caught your attention.

“the effort you’ve put into basketball has been apparent throughout your career, but your fans want to know more. who do you credit for keeping you so motivated and successful off the court?”

she bit back a smile, lip tugged between her teeth as she listened to the interviewer. caitlin looked out into the sea of people, eyes finding yours somewhere in the back before answering.

“yea, no there’s a lot of people i could think of that have been absolutely incredible,” she said “you know obviously my parents and bothers, my teammates and friends. they’ve all been really supportive of me. but i do also want to credit my girlfriend, YN. i mean she’s been there for me day after day, she’s really the reason i’m able to keep going and i definitely wouldn’t be where i’m at now if it weren’t for her. so yea, i have a truly amazing support group behind me, it’s wild.”

you couldn’t help but blush hearing her mention your name up there. she was so sweet and so modest when it came to things like this and she always made sure you knew how much she really needed you.

after the interview, she came up to you, sweaty and exhausted. a big goofy grin still glued to her face as she gravitated into you.

“i love you so much” she said to you “i meant what i said in there, i really don’t know what i’d do without you”

you pulled her into you tighter, so close you could feel her pulse as your lips met the back of her ear.

“i love you more”

2. social media

caitlin posted you on a regular basis at this point (and you posted her just as much). she was so whipped, always posting photos of you to her instagram to show you off.

caitlinclark22

♡ liked by its.yn, katemartin03, and 799,403 others

caitlinclark22 obsessed with you @its.yn

view all 25,234 comments

its.yn baby :’)

⤷ caitlinclark22 it’s true <3

gabbie.marshall my moms actually

ur.sister the cutest couple everrrr

user7838 brb crying right now

caitandynfan PARENTS

katemartin03 this is making me tear up i’ll be honest

⤷ its.yn stawppp

caitlinclark22

♡ liked by its.yn, caitlinfan180, and 876,221 more

caitlinclark22 i’m in love with you in every universe, happy anniversary @its.yn

view all 36,479 comments

its.yn i’m actually so in love with you it’s insane

bueckersgirl52 this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

jadagyamfi soulmates fr

ynsbiggestfan i love them guys omg

3. around your friends

she honestly didn’t even know she did it because if she did, it would be way worse. the amount of times you got brought up in conversation was starting to get a bit ridiculous. yours and caitlin’s friends love the both of you, thought you were perfect for each other, but if they had to hear ‘YN said’ or ‘you know what happened with YN the other day?’ one. more. time. they were gonna lose it.

caitlin just loved talking about you. she spent every waking moment with you anyways so it was especially hard to not bring up in some sort of way. she really couldn’t care if her friends got sick of it or not.

“hey caitlin” kate asked as the team sat around the living room of your apartment. caitlin had invited the girls over to chill for the night, catch up without the weight of basketball hanging over their shoulders “i had meant to ask how that new restaurant downtown was?”

“oh man it was awesome” she responded “if you get the chance, definitely go. the food was incredible, you know me and YN actually wen-”

“caitlin i love you, but i swear to god please spare us from whatever mushy gushy relationship stuff you’re about to tell us” hannah chimed in from the seat next to caitlin. the girls laughed, glad she spoke up before caitlin began rambling about you again.

“whatever, you guys are just jealous” she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving hannah’s shoulder.

she didn’t mind how the team grew tired of her rambling, she probably would be too if she were them. but you were the soul thing that occupied her mind and she wouldn’t give that up for anything.

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark oneshot #cc x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

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aloesarchives · 4 days

Text

Birthday Special(JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Slight self-coded Fem!Reader

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Mom/Mama (Though no physical description, reader had some self-coded elements)

Word count: 1.5k words

Decided to write something because today is my birthday(May 3rd)! And I'm officially 21! Thank you all for you love and support for the past 7 months of me writing for JJK! Also, this is the Valentine's day I referred to.

“Papa, you’re thinking too hard about this. You know Mama doesn’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, Dad. It shouldn’t be hard to get mom a present. Remember that full-size green tea hand and body lotion you got her? She was way too happy about it and was on the verge of crying happy tears.”

Toji sighs as his kids are behind him trying to ease his stress. Once again, like Valentine’s day, he was struggling to get a present for you. But this time, the stakes are higher because today is your birthday. Not some holiday Toji remembers because it’s one of the many times of the year capitalism does a complete take over for the sake of consumerism, which he can never avoid every time he goes out.

Though his kids have a point, he always wanted to do or get something for you. While you do the occasional mall shopping, it wasn’t often. Maybe once a month if lucky. This always posses a problem for the three because you were the best gifter in the family. Knowing what to give to anyone but only hinting at minute items. Thus having to think outside of the box or really watch your eyes latch onto anything longer than seven seconds.

Megumi and Tsumiki don’t blame Toji for struggling since your demands weren’t demands but rather promises. You have been nothing but good to Toji for almost two decades. Something Toji knows many people take something like that for granted. Unfortunately, becomes terrifying to know how easily many fall under a dark spell. And Toji fears himself on certain days for not giving what you deserved.

“I know, Megumi. But your mother deserves nice things for herself. She still wears the necklace I gave her when you two were young. That’s almost ten years. Now, you both do some scooping while watching the time. We have to get the cake at 3:45pm.”

The siblings looked at each other before shaking their heads in helping their father’s hunt for a perfect present. They looked around the vast sea of stores to give themselves for any ideas. They were overthinking this whole process because every idea was shot down at the reality that you did have everything you ever wanted.

You have everything you ever wanted is what you always said to them.

Perhaps there’s something else they can give you that reminds of that. The lightbulb above Tsumiki’s head went off as she asked Toji the jewelry store he got the necklace from. He becomes curious as she scans the windows for something until stopping and pointing. Toji and Megumi look over to a display of multiple charm bracelets.

“If Mama has the necklace with us in it, why can’t she get a matching bracelet to go along with it? She doesn’t have one that does.”

Now, Toji and Megumi were seeing Tsumiki’s vision.

“Good eye, kiddo. Shame on me for not thinking about that sooner.”

Toji lets Tsumiki handle the bracelet creation, occasionally having him and Megumi to be on the same page. Once finalized, Toji goes to fish his wallet for his card to give to Tsumiki to pay. After printing the receipt, the lady gives the card back but it ends up dropping onto the marble counter. Megumi cringes at the metallic clanging it made so he grabs it for Tsumiki to give back to his dad. Everyone in the store glances over at them as Toji puts the card away. Megumi raises a brow at his father because Toji had a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?”

Toji pockets his hands as he looks at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Megs. Just know there aren't a lot of people with metal credit cards. Anyway, we gotta get movin’ because we need to pick up your Mama’s birthday cake and food for dinner.”

Tsumiki joins them as they head off to finish birthday shopping. Once getting home, they set up everything for you to come home to. By the time you come home, they’re done. Making your presence known, you relax into your humble abode. You walked yourself into the kitchen to see what your family has set up for you.

“Happy Birthday, Mom!”

You're greeted by a hug from each of your kids. Chuckling at the surprise they always seem to do when the day is about you. You hold them close and kiss their foreheads as their hugs re-energize you. Once parting, they made way for their father as your husband stands over you. Holding that dumb grin that you fell in love with over these years.

“Happy Birthday, Doll~.”

Giving a forehead kiss of his own, he holds you ever so softly but with the affectionate firmness. You giggled at how Toji is when it comes to physical touch. He can’t seem to get enough of it. Before eating dinner, you wanted to blow out the candles so they could eat the cake afterwards. The kids say their part and end with “We love you, Mom. Always.” Toji cracks a joke that always makes Megumi roll his eyes before getting into his own sentimental speech.

“Thank you for spending almost 20 years of your life with me. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

Ugh, and that softness he had at the end. Made you want to kiss him with all the love and warmth. You thought it’s time to eat dinner when Toji pulls out a small pink bag and places it in front of you. Surprised, you looked around at your family.

“What’s this, guys?”

“It’s for you, Mama. From us.”

Though curious, you smiled as you looked into the bag and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over. There, in the box, was a silver charm snake chain bracelet with a small (F/C) gem at the center of a beautiful silver heart charm. But that’s not make you smile. It came from when your eyes landed on the other three charms attached to the bracelet. Two of those were dangling charms, one of an elegant flower and the other of a small silver puppy. The other charm was a clip-on with the colors of dark blue and black. You recognized them to represent the three that ultimately fulfilled the word “family” for you.

The flower is Tsumiki as it was her favorite color, the puppy was obviously Megumi, and the last one is Toji for sure. Your smile began to painfully pull at your lips because you realized Toji’s charm closely resembles his wedding ring. Clasping the bracelet on your wrist, you admired how it looked on you.

“It was the kids’ idea to do this. I just paid for it, Hon.”

You knew Toji’s lying but didn't have it in you to call him out. This gift was just too perfect. You go over to give your motherly affection to thank Megumi and Tsumiki, your two children that gave meaning to your motherhood. Once having enough, you go over to Toji. The man you undoubtedly cherish and completely devote yourself to, your husband and your other half. You hug Toji lovingly, taking in his warmth and presence. Nothing in this world brings you comfort and ease than the man you choose to love never made you regret giving your heart and soul to.

Toji just chuckles with his signature grin, returning the hug with the same amount of affection. Yet your children can see the adoration and tenderness in his eyes, knowing full well he never looked at anyone that way because you’re the only one to bring it out of him. Looking up at your Toji, your gaze softens but your smile still holds its homeyness. He stares down at you before he leans in for a kiss you gladly accept. Even Megumi smiles with his sister while watching their parents express their love for one another, seeing them pull away from the kiss.

“They’re truly your kids since they always knew how to give me gifts. It goes with my necklace now. Thank you for this.” Saying as you smile up at him.

“Ah~, they knew because they have good eyes. Just like their mama. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Thank you for your love…and thank you for being you.”

The absolute tender affirmation was unlike any other. Though your birthday was a reminder of how many years you’ve been on here, it also serves as a reminder of your milestones over the years. Looking at your life, you got the best out of it. A family of your own and the love from someone who’s been with you through it all. As you tell Megumi and Tsumiki to go ahead and eat, you lock eyes with Toji. Both filled with a love no one can feel except the two of you. Toji hugs you close from behind as you interlace your hands into his, feeling your bracelet pressed up against him. Gazing upon Megumi and Tsumiki, both of your creations born out of each other’s unmatched love for one another.

This will be added into one of your many best birthdays you had.

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profoundmakerdreamerss-blog · 13 days

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Alright, I know some people think that Harry will be down bad/have a crush on Tom first or some thinks it'll be Tom; but I feel like it's neither? Hell, canonically, Harry is really emotionally stunted in that regard, and I just don't see him grovelling or reacting that way to anyone or not specifically to Tom? Especially not a Slytherin who is always busy with political climbing or things-that-don't-interest-Harry. I feel like they'll be so busy with their lives, that until and unless someone smack dabs them together (with their luck, let's be real something WILL smack dab them together) I do believe they'll be passing thoughts in each other's life.

Harry might end up thinking in the passing that Tom's really good looking because hell, I've done that; even when I'm not attracted to someone, I will always appreciate a face that I find pleasing. I don't think Harry will be that interested in Tom until and unless he does something that attracts him (ex: quidditch LMAO). And the same goes for Tom, for whom I have this headcanon; that it's not intelligence or say, defiance that would attract him but something more. More visceral, more ground shaking (something very small in others' eyes perhaps but not to Tom). Something that will make him stop and think and learn. Because he doesn't seem like a person who would just get a crush out of nowhere,but that doesn't mean he won't be attracted to power tho lmao knowing him, he most deffo would. (Also all this doesn't mean i mind obsessed Tom fics, bc vee obsessing over harry is canon so who's to say he doesn't end up doing the same lmao).

And also the headcanon of Harry not realizing Tom is suspicious? Guys, this is Harry Potter; Mr I doubt everything and anything. Mr I fought of imperio because it felt too good to be true and my mind went sus alert. You think Harry wouldn't see Tom Riddle being so nice and so perfect and won't feel wait a second? Give my boy some credit, I beg. We've been shown his sixth sense being right, over and over again. And he has trust issues.

So, food for thought? Neither of them would do the grovelling and pining (they might in some specific circumstances but not in your average fics where they are doing their things without crossing paths), rather they are gonna do the falling once faith crash them together so hard; they end up getting a concussion (love).

Also adding this: I feel like they will fall for each other, no matter what and it will be not be because of faith or whatever but rather because of how much they can learn from each other and how perfectly they fit together. It will not be some random feelings, no. It will be push and pull, it'll be you get me, it will be I know you'll always have my back and it will be all the broken furnitures because they're stubborn. It will be challenging each other to be the better version of themselves.

Tom, who knows he is the best; can teach Harry some things about CONFIDENCE and he could teach Harry that he's enough. Harry, who knows a thing or two about humility, can drag him back when Tom tries to be Icarus and he can ground Tom when it's needed. Harry and Tom can both challenge each other and learn from each other. Harry will never suffocate Tom, and neither will he let Tom suffocate him and to me that's what make their dynamic special. I love them, okay — I hate it when people go; yeah he will be the one who'll just pine away or there's no way he (one of them) will fall for him etc. Let them be down bad for each other. thanks. It's not a competition.

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lis-likes-fics · 8 months

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Music to My Eyes

Pairings: Finnick Odair x deaf!fem!Reader Word Count: 7.5k words Warnings: Mentions of the Games, so killing and death, mentions of trauma, my attempt at writing sign language, pre-Katniss, no Annie... A/N: Hey, everyone! I watched the Hunger Games a few months ago and had a mini obsession and decided to write for it and only now just got half of my fic done. Since it was running as long as it was, I decided to go ahead and split this into two different parts, but I swear the rest of it is being planned and written. Also A/N: Just FYI, anything written in /slants/ is an indication of something being signed because explaining every little sign just does not work. And, also, Hecton Leary is absolutely done by Peter Capaldi in my mind...just in case you need a visual. I was watching a lot of Doctor Who during this so, get ready to see those intense eyebrows all over the place in this, lmao. Also Also A/N: Special thanks to my beta-reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen who I will be crediting more bc I literally forgot to last time and she's too amazing for that! Thanks, Vee! 💖

You don't love wearing dresses—especially not extravagant ones like these, more expensive than likely your entire district as a whole. You also don't love parties like these where you have to wear said dresses, surrounded by tons of people generating body heat and stuffing the room full of perfumes and colognes that make your nose and eyes burn. Your feet hurt from the heels your designer paired with your outfit, and the air is active with words and voices that overwhelm your brain with too much information to take.

Having Hecton beside you is a relief at least—not completely lost in a sea of people as he and you communicate with two rich sponsors from District 1 dressed just a slight less dramatic as you but just as exaggerated.

You watch their lips, painted over with bright colors complementing their attire, as they speak to you. "It must be so hard, isn't it?" the woman asks, spending too much time on "so" as she speaks slowly for you to comprehend. You want to roll your eyes. "Flailing about all the time just to get a few words out?"

The man next to her agrees, nodding his head. You can see his throat shift, and you assume he's hummed a response.

Hecton's hands move with skill as he speaks, partly as aid in translation for you but mostly for the performance people are looking for.

You feel like your lips are going to fall off, you can almost feel them twitching at the ends from how long you've been smiling at all these people who don't know anything about you and assume they know everything.

You widen your smile to show teeth and shake your head, continuing to be as respectful as you can with your social tolerance running low.

Your hands move and, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Hecton speaking as they do. "Not really," he translates. "It's natural for me."

The man puts a hand over his heart and turns to her. "Oh, you poor thing," he says rather dramatically. Hecton doesn't dignify his words by translating that for you—not that you needed it in the first place. His hands remain still, folded in front of him. The man glances toward them, and you can see his brief disappointment at his words not receiving the glory of illustration.

You glance up at Hecton, your smile intact as you slightly squint the corners of your eyes in a silent plea. He answers you gracefully, turning his attention back to the fashionable vultures in front of him.

"This was wonderful," he says, "but I believe our little lady is excited to meet other guests here tonight."

Hecton is an older man with grey hair, pale eyes, and intense brows. Upon looking at him, he isn't the most approachable man. You don't just say no to him—especially as a past victor of the Games who certainly triumphed by a long-shot. He is not weakened by age, but he's definitely wisened by it. Although sobered by surviving the horrors of the Games, it neither slowed nor ruined his life, it simply gave an abrupt end to what little childhood people of Districts like yours can obtain.

One look at the finality on his face and they were fully ready to end their (rather insulting) conversation. They turn to one another, making these awful pity-faces as they hold each other's hands and turn back to heartily agree. "Of course." She puts too much emphasis on the words. "Goodbye, dear."

You nod gently and look toward Hecton for confirmation as he places a hand on your back and turns with you. You both walk away from the conversation gratefully, still smiling for everyone else in the room but moving your hands in silent conversation.

/These people are exhausting,/ you complain, entirely within your right with the way they treat you.

Hecton sighs, looking at you with eyes that understand your struggle. /Just keep them happy./

You nod, remaining light-hearted for both your sakes as you offer a genuine smile before you slip back into a customer service front. /I know, I know./

Lots of eyes are on you tonight, but none so keen as a certain boy across the room. He has basically been watching you all night, intrigued by the way you've been communicating, by the way you draw so much attention without having spoken a single word since you arrived.

He has seen you around a few times—on television, at other parties. He knows your face and that you won the Games like him, but he's never paid enough attention to actually know anything past that. But now, observing you all night, he's interested enough to ask.

His elbow brushes the guy next to him, a victor from another district he doesn't care to specify right now. "Who is that again?" he asks, not taking his eyes off of you as his friend turns to look. "I've seen her a couple times, never remember."

He looks at you and then back at him. "Her?" he gestures vaguely toward you. He nods.

"Victor from District 10, she won the 67th Games." He takes a sip from his drink, leaning back against a table with a hand in his pocket. "Surprised everyone cause she," he shrugged, "can't hear or something."

That definitely caught his attention as he turned full bodied toward him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he swirled his drink around. "She's nice…in a little bunny sort of way." It's not necessarily an insult, more than it is him calling you soft-hearted and skittish.

He walks away without a word, finally making his way toward you to quell his curiosity as he approaches you and takes his sweet time about it.

Your back is turned to him. He briefly wonders the best way to get your attention on the way over, knowing you hate being tapped by the way your shoulders flinch and you strain a smile when you turn.

Then again, no one likes tapping.

When he reaches you, he just folds his hands behind his back and smiles. "Hello," he says simply. Hecton turns at the greeting, prompting you to do the same.

"I'm Finnick. Finnick Odair," he greets with a smile of his own as he regards the both of you. He watches the way the old man's hand moves on his name. Your hand reaches out and interrupts him as you place a gentle palm on top of his. He makes a face—it's not annoyed, just teasing.

You turn back to Finnick, your performance smiling still intact. Hecton speaks while you sign. For a moment, Finnick thinks he'll understand the movements you make—Mags doesn't speak, she has to use her hands to communicate all the time, surely it couldn't be that different—but he is proven wrong when words don't match waves.

"I know who you are. You won the 65th Games, you're from District 4." Finnick thinks, briefly, that your friend's voice doesn't match you at all (which is obvious, of course, but he feels it's worth pointing out).

"Well, then," he responds with a slight chuckle, only glancing for a moment at the way Hecton's hands move as he talks, "I'm flattered you know me. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for you…"

You seem surprised by that. He thinks it may have something to do with the way that you haven't had many moments away from conversation since you arrived. Everyone has been too taken by you, too interested in snatching a few minutes.

Your hands don't start moving in that curious way Finnick likes to watch because words are already being spoken. "Mr. Odair, this is Y/N Y/L/N. I am her mentor and translator, Hecton Leary."

Finnick holds out a hand, which each of you shake. Out of courtesy, he doesn't start talking again until after your hands are free. "Wonderful to meet you both. And, please, Finnick is fine. There's no need for formalities when we could be friends, right?"

You still smile as you begin to sign, though your brows furrow. /Why exactly do I want to be your friend?/

Finnick doesn't understand, looking at Hecton for translation. He only says your name, a sort of reprimand as he continues to smile.

/I'm only being honest./

Where you expected frustration from not understanding, you find amusement in Finnick's eyes as his genuine smile widens and he looks between the both of you. "What am I missing?"

Hecton looks at you, raising a large brow and waiting for your reply. You sigh gently and shake your head, remaining civil as you begin to sign.

"Sorry," he speaks for you. "I look forward to establishing friendship with another fellow Victor. Maybe one day we'll…" Hecton gets quiet as he just watches your hands continue to move and your lips continue to smile, full of amusement.

/We'll frolic in the woods together, holding hands and singing songs./

Hecton turns full body to you. He holds his palms apart and brings them together swiftly without clapping them. /Y/N./

You smile wider and hold your hands in surrender, the tiny sound of a giggle slipping out of you. You're otherwise silent as your hands fly. /I'm joking! Tell him it was nice to meet him, and I look forward to being friends./

Hecton eyes you momentarily before relenting, turning back to Finnick with exasperation. "She says it was a pleasure meeting you, and she looks forward to your friendship."

Finnick raises his brows, bowing his head gently. "The pleasure is all mine." He's a charmer, and he makes that clear by reaching out and slowly, softly taking your hand in his (his grasp is so gentle that you could easily take your hand back if you wanted and he wouldn't stop you). He bends forward, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. He straightens his spine and watches you fondly. "Until we meet again."

As he lets go of your hand, he bows his head once more before he walks away. You and Hecton watch him leave. He raises his own brow at you. "Is that blush I see?"

Your hands are quick and exaggerated as you move them. You know he's joking and you're not blushing, but his teasing makes you. /No!/

Hecton's smile is wide and open and you know he's laughing at you, so you call him out for being mean. He drops it just as quickly, once the joke has faded to a funny memory and you both are back to mingling with people who do not care about you.

The halls are empty this late in the night. Everyone has retired to their rooms or taken an early train home. It's peaceful, wandering the halls this late and being undisturbed by curious eyes and ears watching you like some wild animal. You enjoy the silence—the physical silence of steady air and only one set of footsteps to track instead of hundreds.

At the end of the hall you wander now is the elevator that takes you to your level. Hecton will be wondering where you are—and if not, it's probably time for you to retire for the night before the victor's interviews with Lucky tomorrow anyway. As you make your way toward it, the lights bright and beckoning, you stop in front of it and click the door button.

It's as the doors are sliding open that you realize you're no longer alone in the dead of this night. You feel it in the prickle of your skin, the change in the weight of the floor beneath you. You look over quickly where the side of your face heats with a new presence.

You see Finnick approaching you, seemingly pleased to see you as he smiles at you, stopping short of the doors to offer you first entry. You grin hesitantly, your confidence from before waning a little with the absence of your mentor and translator. If he tries to talk to you, you're probably going to have a rough night. You press the tenth floor button. He presses the fourth.

Finnick isn't as pessimistic, glancing at you out of the corner of your eyes as you stand with your fingers tangled and your eyes toward the ground. You don't look nearly as cocky this time around—in fact, you seem nervous, refusing to even give him that small, awkward smile you usually receive when stuck in a space next to someone you don't know.

Finnick licks his lips, and speaks before he can correct himself. "Hello," he says, giving you a charming smile before immediately remembering your certain disability.

His curiosity grows when you raise your head, glancing his way but not quite committing.

"Oh, right," he mumbles. His added words spark your attention once more as you finally look at him, moving your hand in a talking motion.

"Yeah," he responds. "How did you know?" You're deaf, but you could tell that he was speaking without even looking at him?

He watches you think for a moment, staring off to try and figure out a way to tell him without Hecton to aid you. You look at him again, raising a hand palm down and shaking it.

"Shaking?" he guesses, raising a confused brow.

You gestured around the elevator, your face etched in concentration, determined to be understood. You sometimes forget how hard communication can actually be for you.

"The room?" he tries. "The room is shaking?"

You make a face, one that says "not quite".

He thinks for a moment, putting your gestures together before it dawns on him. "The air is moving."

You smile, far too happy to have successfully gotten a point across.

Finnick's brows raise, though not in a mocking or upset way. "Is everything really that sensitive for you?"

'It has to be,' you want to say, but you can't. You can read lips, but moving your own to try and copy them is a completely different story. Instead, you just nod and agree.

"I heard that's how you won the Games," he said, before adding on the end with a genuinely impressed smile. "Very cool, by the way." He had spent an embarrassing amount of time—or it would be embarrassing if he actually cared about that—asking party comers about you. Most of the information he got was about the Games, always about the Games. He got the same answers from just about everyone about how you were just so sweet and how it was so inspiring how your lack of hearing helped you to win.

As much as that sweet grin on your face made you want to smile, he wasn't technically right. So you shook your head, and he watched you raise your hands to cover your eyes.

"You were blind?" he wonders, but that doesn't make any sense and he doesn't feel very smart for asking now.

You shake your head and do it again, this time pulling your hands away and then covering your face again.

"You hid," he answers. That makes more sense.

You nod and he hums.

You didn't win the Hunger Games by killing for being killed, you didn't win by joining alliances or traveling in groups and pairs. You won the Games by running and hiding until everyone had killed each other.

When the Gamemakers used their tricks and schemes to flush you out of your hiding places, you found another one to lay low until the end. Yes, there were times when you had to fight for your life, but you were no strong competitor. It was dumb luck that you won. Right up to the end, facing off with the almost-champion after having been hunted down by Mutts. He killed them, and then he tried to kill you.

And that was when your disability was labeled your greatest weapon.

Maybe one day you'll be able to tell him that.

The doors slid open to reveal Finnick's floor. You both linger there in the elevator for a moment, trying to decide what to do from there.

Truly, you should have just waved at him and let the doors close to take you to your own floor. It was late already, you needed to rest.

But…

"Do you like sweets?"

Yes, you do.

You nod, answering his charming smile with a shy one and being upset with yourself in the back of your mind for falling for his obvious charm. If you got hurt, it was on you and no one else. But who cares?

You, you care. Maybe not enough, though.

You follow him off the elevator and into the common room. The kitchen is just off of it, with a long table cleared of dinner but still adorned with snacks—fruits and a few deserts. Finnick slides over a plate of cookies as you take a seat. They're chocolate and very good.

He sits across from you, a little too keen in the way he leans forward. He picks up a cookie between his thumb and forefinger, playing with it absent-mindedly as he speaks.

"Is that," he waves one hand, "usually how you communicate?" He hopes he doesn't sound offensive and takes a bite from his cookie.

You don't seem offended as you shrug. He watches you move your hand like you're grasping a pen, shifting it around in a circle. He understands and, like a dog, goes to grab the supplies for you, dropping his cookie back on the table with little to no regard. He's not necessarily upset about his obedience, if anything, he's happy to let you boss him around—not that you have been—if it means quenching his genuine curiosity with how you operate.

He slides you a notebook as he reclaims his seat, gently slapping a pen on top with a cheeky grin. He seems proud of himself. You hold in your chuckle as you write with the best handwriting you can with the quickness of your scribbles.

/Signing or writing./

Finnick reads it off. He thinks your handwriting is pretty.

"Does it get tiring?" he asks, cookie forgotten in crumbs on the counter. He absent-mindedly pushes it to the side so he can lean closer. "Moving your hands like that all the time?"

His question is one you get often, a repeated question every person asks to suit their shallow interest in you. But you can't bring yourself to be offended or annoyed. Finnick doesn't seem shallow, his curiosity runs deep and his kindness deeper. You're not sure you could take anything he says with offense.

You simply shake your head. /Easy as it is for you to talk,/ you answer honestly, adding the gesture for "speak" at the end to try to be helpful.

He shouldn't be impressed, but he is. "Oh," he says, brows raised in vivid interest. "Is it easy to learn?"

He's full of questions. He knows he probably sounds like a child, piling them on top of each other like tidal waves. But you don't seem upset, so he carries on.

You shrug again.

/Would not know. Depends on person./ You look up at him, and then you add, /You want to learn?/

The way you write is interesting to him. You don't do it in full sentences in an effort to keep it short and simple. But you also don't use contractions, though you try to write as quickly as possible to keep up the feel and consistency of actually speaking.

He smiles slyly and pretends to be shy about it, bowing his head and looking up at you through pretty lashes. "Maybe," he says. "Could you teach me?"

You mirror his expression, bowing your chin toward your chest and smiling at him. /Maybe./

You finish your cookie and rip off the first page to turn to another. He watches you write out the alphabet, quickly scribbling a very poor illustration of a hand gesture underneath each one. It takes a while, longer than you wished for it to.

Finnick doesn't mind. While you're distracted with the activity at hand, he's watching you. You're very pretty, he thinks. With the way you sit to draw, you keep your body open and give yourself the room you need to still see him as you work.

You've got kind eyes. He doesn't think you get that enough. Everyone calls you a sweet girl, but they usually follow it up with something along the lines of "even with her issue".

But Finnick just thinks you're pretty and kind. That's it. No exceptions.

He wants to learn about you without the tainting of word-of-mouth or television programs. He wants to know you. The stuff you love, the stuff you hate, everything that makes you happy, and the stuff that makes you want to throw chairs. He wants to know what your favorite color is, if you like to dance or paint or swim.

Before he can keep daydreaming about whether you like cats or dogs, you look up at him to show off your work. You think it's sloppy. He thinks you did great.

You start going through it with him, showing him the hand signs as you get to them with a patience that amazes him. Once you've gone through the whole of it once, he lifts his own hand to try it out. He looks weird and silly, and you smile as he tries his best.

When he offers a poor attempt at a 'Q', a giggle manages to slip. You probably don't hear it, but Finnick certainly does. His face lights up at the sound. He had heard you make little more than a sigh. Managing to pull a giggle out of you—especially one as pretty as that? It's like winning the lottery.

He goes through it with you a couple more times before he straightens his spine. "So…"

He points to his chest and holds his hand out, slowly moving it to fit the gestures he's tried.

F. I. N. N. I. C. K.

You nod quickly, beaming from ear to ear at how quickly he's picked it up already. You point to yourself and spell your own name out. You move slowly, giving him time to connect each letter to each sign as you go. And when you finish, he spells it himself. A nearly perfect copy, (although perfect may be generous, he's definitely trying and it shows—that's perfect enough in your book).

You carefully tear the page out and set it to the side so he can still see and write excitedly on the next page, your writing almost terrible with how quickly you scribble. /Natural!/

You sign the word after. He copies you, and then tries to spell it out. He gets it right for the most part—even though you're pretty sure you saw him use an 'X' instead of an 'R'.

He really wants to impress you. He doesn't make that subtle, and you're honestly happy he doesn't. It makes you genuinely giddy, the way he's so eager to learn and show off his new skill (a skill he's literally been practicing for no more than ten minutes). You don't realize how far onto the table you've learned. Your hands would brush if you moved them an inch closer.

"I'll keep at it," he replies genuinely at your proud smile. He had no idea someone so silent could be so pleasantly loud. Your ecstatic movements and wide grins compensate for your lack of vocalization. When you speak through your hands or the notebook in front of you, he almost swears he can hear a voice he hasn't heard in place of it, so kind and pretty. Like a song.

You smile too fondly at him, taking in a soft breath before looking down at your hands and sitting back again. You'd gotten ahead of yourself. You don't correct it as much as you should. You're just as fond as you sit correctly in your seat and watch him with intense interest.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you pick up your pen again. He watches you write something down. You turn the book around for him to see.

/Mentor cannot speak?/

"Mags?" he wonders. You nod, tilting your head. "No."

You write again. /Cannot sign?/

"No."

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, a silent inquiry. He shrugs, "Never learned."

You contemplate for a moment, rubbing your neck gently before taking the notepad once more. You show it to him.

/Can teach./ You point to yourself, offering a small grin.

"Really?" he furrows his brow.

You shrug. Why not?

Finnick stares at you a moment, searching your eyes for a joke he knows he won't find. So why would you be so open to helping her? Maybe you're just weird.

His lips curl in a smile. "I'll ask her."

Your own smile grows.

He drums his fingers on the table, watching you watching him. He thinks for a moment, just staring, before he opens his mouth.

"So obviously, you can read lips." You nod. "Were you born deaf?"

You nod and reach for the notepad once again. It takes you a moment to write this time. /Parents did not find out til 2. Was a quiet kid. Did not realize until I never started speaking./

He's so interested in everything you tell him. He hangs onto your every word like pure gold. "So you've never heard anything before? Ever?"

He feels like it's a dumb question. Of course not. But you hesitate, glancing off before you nod.

/Yes./

His eyes go wide with wonder. "How?" He crosses his arms and leans forward on the table.

You thought for another moment, trying to find the best way to phrase it to keep it simple. You tap the pen against your lips and click click click it.

/Before the 67th Games, my team gifted me hearing aids. Thought it would help./ You pull away for him to read, staring at the page before taking it and adding in a new line, /Didn't think I'd make it deaf./

The look on your face told him how much that bothered you—or, at least, a whisper of how much it used to bother you. He thinks you may be used to it by now…

"Seemed to work, huh?" he asks with a slight chuckle in an attempt to brighten your mood again.

But you shake your head as you pull the notepad back. /When Games started, too much. Ripped them out and ran./ You sigh gently, swallowing thickly. /Couldn't handle it./

He listens in, his full attention heeding your words. "So you never wear them?"

You shake your head. /Do not like to./

He nods gently. "Because it hurt?" he asks, trying to understand.

You think for a moment before raising your hand and shaking it like before, meaning a different thing this time. /Kind of,/ you write.

You sigh and raise your hands, loosely clawed in front of you as you bring them into your chest in fists. Then you pick up your pen to translate. /Trust me?/

He nods. "Yeah."

/Sure?/

His second nod is more firm. "Yes."

He watches you grab a hand towel. You lift it up, gesturing to him with it and he nods his approval once again. You step behind him and tie it around his head to cover his eyes.

After you blindfold him, sure that he no longer has sight, you turn off all the lights and spin him around a couple times before you lead him into the living room.

Without his sight, Finnick is reduced to having to let you lead him where you want him. And he trusts you. He sways on his feet for a moment, standing still when you stop guiding him again.

"Can I look now?" he asks, his hands out by his side blindly if not for anything but balance.

He hears your voice, the slight sound of you clearing your throat before humming gently, like you're feeling for it. Then he hears your broken response, unaccustomed to actually speaking.

"N-o," you mumble. He smiles a little, and you think he's weird—in a good way.

After a moment of silence where the both of you just stand there and do nothing, he feels you begin to remove the towel from his face. You don't give him a chance to adjust to the dark, you just flip the closest light on and let him have it.

He winces, shielding his face as the shock sets in. You smile gently as you apologize, rubbing your fist over your chest in a circle. When his eyes adjust to the light once more to look at you, your smile is still a fond apology as you motion to your ears.

He breathes lightly. “That’s what it felt like for you?” You make a “bigger” motion with your hands as you nod. “That’s awful,” he mumbles.

You shrug as you begin to walk back to the dining table to grab your pen and notepad again. As you take a seat on the sofa, you bring your legs up under you and invite him to sit beside you. He watches you write something as you prop the notepad against your thighs. You show it to him when you finish.

/What do you like to do?/

He is happy to answer as he settles back and thinks for a moment before offering his reply. You sit and talk back and forth for a long time. You don’t really keep track as you learn that Finnick loves to swim and he dabbles in cooking when he can. You learn that he likes the color blue, but his favorite color is probably white. You learn that he is a “live life like it’s your last day” type of person because of his experience with the games (a philosophy you have adopted yourself in a smaller intensity). You learn that he’s more fond of the quiet than the rowdy crowds he’s grown accustomed to.

Finnick learns that you also like the water, but you enjoy sitting under the surface and feeling like the world is just as silent as you in a way that isn’t so interesting to the rest of the world. He learns that you don’t have a favorite color but you always say green, that you’re not a people person but everyone thinks you’re a person who loves people, and that you like to watch Hecton play the guitar while he lets you set your hand on the body of it to feel what he plays.

You don’t know when you fall asleep on the couch, laying against the back of it with your head turned toward the large, cushy pillow that supports your head. You’re curled up against it, and Finnick thinks you look precious. He’s not long after you as he dozes off on the couch. Neither of you touch at all, hands to yourself as you let the night ease on around you. But the presence is comfortable enough, you’re happy for it.

But sometime in the night, you don’t know when, how long the passage of time had gotten to be, the calm that had set over you slowly began to fade and slip into something a little more unnerving. Uneasiness sets in your bones, makes you queasy as your fingers twitch. You hum, a groan that slips from between your lips and rouses Finnick as he opens his eyes and glances your way, eyes still heavy with sleep.

He starts to sit up as he sees you shift, your breath quickened and your muscles twitching. He calls your name gently, a first instinct he immediately realizes isn’t going to work. He hears you hum again and begins to reach a hand out. His fingers hardly brush the skin of your arm when your eyes suddenly open. You’re muttering something intelligible to yourself as you glance around frantically, eyes glazed over and movements full of adrenaline.

“Woah, you’re good,” he tries as you grip the cushions on the couch. It’s too warm and it’s cushy and you don’t want to be up there anymore. He’s still trying to ease you, hands out like you’re a frightened animal ready to attack him. You slide off the couch and onto the floor, where the cold hardwood greets your skin as you catch your breath, your face tucked between your arms as your whole body heaves for air.

He lets you stay there, concern written all over his face as he tries to figure out what the issue is. He guesses they’re just nightmares, bad, ugly nightmares that he, himself, has faced over and over and over again. He waits and waits and waits for your body to steady and for your breath to calm, keeping his hands out but away as he waits for you to recover.

When you’ve calmed down again, you lift your head and sit back against the floor, turning toward him with lethargic muscles, your adrenaline already waning as the exhaustion from before trumps everything else. You catch the movement of Finnick’s lips from out of the corner of your eye and turn to see him speak. “What’s wrong?”

You breathe in slowly, filling your whole chest as you gather yourself enough to answer. You stroke a circle over your chest with your fist, a movement he remembers seeing you do earlier when you were apologizing to him. He shakes his head gently, slowly shifting off of the couch to join you on the floor, giving you space as he props his elbow on the cushion.

“S’okay,” he says, his lips moving gently around the word. “What happened?”

You breathe out slowly, still centering yourself. You lean toward the table, sliding the notepad over with lazy movements. You contemplate before writing. /Vibrations./ You show it to him and he tilts his head. /I sleep with my hand on the floor. It lets me know if someone is coming, I can feel the footsteps in the ground. It wakes me up and keeps me out of trouble./

The way you write is different now, filling the missing blanks of words you’d usually leave out because they were unnecessary. Like you’re too tired to summarize, letting the words do their job as you slump against the table like you haven’t slept in ages and are simply going through the motions.

He moves slowly, letting you see what’s happening before it happens as he sets his hand atop your own on the table. You don’t move, glancing at his hand and letting it happen as his skin brushes yours. He feels honored.

“Well,” he says, “you’re safe here.” With me.

You manage to pull the corners of your lips up into a small smile, turning your hand so his rests in your palm. You raise your free hand to your chin. /Thank you./ You take a moment to sit there, looking at each other and enjoying the feelings of your hand in the other’s. Then you pull your hand away regretfully and pick up your pen.

/I should get back to my floor before my people worry./

He reads it off and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, already moving to stand to his feet as he holds his hand out to help you, hoping you would accept. When you do, he smiles. You lift yourself to your feet and give him another of your best in this condition.

You pick up the notepad one more time. /Thank you for the sweets. And for the company. I liked talking with you./

He puts a hand to his heart, too heartfelt to be teasing as he dips his head slightly. “My pleasure.”

Finnick walks with you to the elevator, standing by you in silence after the button is pressed as you both wait for the doors to slide open. When they do, you step in and offer yet another warm smile as you sigh and wave, mouthing the word “bye” as you depart from him, sad to go. He mouths the word back to you, though you’re not positive he spoke them as he offers a small wave of his own.

The doors shut and Finnick misses you already.

The blaring lights, (otherwise) deafening crowds, and extravagant costumes are something you get used to and never get used to all at once. All the attention is on you, and it's your job to make sure they are entertained as you make your way onto the stage with Hecton's at your side.

Lucky is standing, that unnervingly large grin tearing his face in two as he watches you excitedly. His hand is extended toward you, both to show you off and welcome you in.

"Hello, my dear!" he exclaims theatrically as he takes your hand. He places a kiss to your knuckles and then shakes Hecton's hand as well. You all take your seats, your smile the picture of thrilled.

"It's been a while since we have last spoken, hasn't it?" He stops dramatically and then says, "Well, a while since I spoke to you, at least." The air is on the fritz with cheers and laughter and more clapping as you look around at everyone. Lucky's laughter is just as wide. "How have you been, Y/N?"

You look at Hecton, your smile and his set in perfection. He speaks as you sign, beginning his role as your ultimate translator. "I've been great, Lucky. I've missed you!"

His big brows furrow as he slaps a hand over his heart. He turns to the adoring fans. "Oh, isn't that sweet?" He laughs again and looks back at you, his expression calmer but no less dramatic. "I have also missed you, my dear. Now, tell me, this is a tour for some of our previous victors, have you met any of them yet?" He leans in like you're sharing a secret.

"I'm glad you asked, I have. It's been great getting to be reacquainted with old friends and making new ones."

"Ooo," he says, looking around and encouraging the crowd to join in. "New ones like who?" He sits up straight and brings a finger to his lips, glancing away and smiling slyly. "I know I have it from a reliable source that you were mingling with District 4 Champion, Finnick Odair." He leans forward with narrowed eyes. "Do I sense something blossoming?"

He and the crowd tease you, making lovey dovey noises that you don't hear but definitely feel as you glance at Hecton and he raises his thick brows in amusement.

"Oh, Lucky," you smile like you'll laugh as Hecton continues to read your hands. "I wish I could agree, but who am I to say?" You shrug it off with a sigh.

"Oh, really?" he jabs. "Because when I brought it up with Finnick, I believe he described you as 'a special kind of beauty'." This riles the crowd up even more, they cheer louder and the air feels suffocating. You smile through it.

"Did he now?"

"He did."

Lucky laughs dramatically, Hecton laughs less dramatically, and the crowd eats right out of the palm of your hands.

"Well," Hecton says as you catch the attention again, "you know I'm not one to gossip."

"Ohh, not just this once?" He says it like he'll cry.

"I wish I could."

He sighs heavily. "Oh, well." The crowds 'aww's and you give an apologetic smile to them all. Lucky leans over and takes your hand in his, which you then cover with your own. "It has been lovely catching up with you, my dear. And you, too, Hecton, my friend." Hecton nods. "I hope to see you again soon, both of you—I do so love our talks!"

"As do I, Lucky. As do I."

He puts both hands over his chest this time, smiling with sadness to see you go. "Would you give us a kiss before you go?"

You stand to face the crowd and kiss your hand, blowing it out to them as they scream and shout for you. You beam and look at them all, waving happily.

"Oh, fantastic!" Lucky exclaims as he stands to join your side, Hecton at the other. He takes one of your hands again. "It is always a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine."

He turns to the adoring audience. "Our Silent Spectacle, everybody!"

They scream and shout and you press your cheeks to Lucky's before you and Hecton leave the stage. Even after you're past the curtain where they can no longer see you, you keep the smile as wide as you can until it trembles out of place.

/Very well done, Y/N,/ Hecton congratulates.

You huff out a tiring breath, massaging your cheeks before regaining your posture and masking your frown with a much softer smile as you respond. /It's exhausting./

He offers a sympathetic look. /Maybe so, but they love it./ He glances at you again, noticing the fatigue in your eyes and your twitching lips, the nerves kicking from overuse. He sighs, taking your hand and turning you to him.

/You've got to keep them happy./

You look at him, how his words reflected a deeper worry, a double meaning that surpasses the gratification of your adoring crowds. Your eyes glue to his own, solemn, sober—a fair contrast from the faces surrounding you, drunk on the sap of their own self-importance.

/I know,/ you nod.

The tense moment is interrupted as a new player enters the arena. Hecton is the one to turn first, redirecting your attention toward the person approaching you. You immediately smile, an instinct by this point as you turn your gaze on your next audience. It only takes a moment for you to recognize the person, and your smile comes a little easier.

Seeing the situation before he approaches, Finnick wonders whether or not it would be appropriate to interrupt. But when your mentor turns and you turn with him, and you smile a more genuine smile upon seeing him, he finds that he doesn't really care if it's appropriate right now.

"You're quite the personality," he says as he steps up, smiling himself as he tilts his head.

"They love quiet, happy girls," Hecton translates as you sign. Finnick really doesn't think his voice suits you, coarse and thick with an accent hard to find.

"That, they do," he nods. He licks his bottom lip, "So you'll be headed back off today?"

You turn toward Hecton, your jaw clenching briefly before you turn back. "Soon. I've got some business tonight and then we'll be off tomorrow."

"Business?" he raises a curious brow, taking a small step forward as his lips quirked. "What kind of business?"

You tilt your chin, a nervous kind of smile on your lips as you move a hooked finger from your nose to your cupped hand. "Nosey," you tease, though Hecton speaks it flatly.

"Oh, it's a secret?" he wonders, even more curious now. He doesn't speak like a creep as he continues, holding that same teasing feeling while also offering his genuine curiosity. "I have a thing for secrets, y'know. I can keep it safe for you…"

You do it again, with a little more delight this time. Again, Hecton's translation holds no ounce of the delight you give off as you talk to Finnick. "Nosey," he repeats, this time with a little more sternness to get him to stop asking. You give him a side glance, but he isn't affected.

Before you can communicate anything else, Hecton's sets his hand on your lower back. It isn't patronizing, he's just used to guiding you, your protector.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "It's time we were off."

You sigh gently but nod, still smiling as you glanced up at him. You begin to wave to Finnick, but he speaks as you're waving your hand.

"Am I free to visit down in District 10?" he asks, his tone light and playful to avoid sounding as hopeful as he feels. He's just met you, and he wants to know you.

You nod quickly, too eager. You move two fingers over your fist, missing the way Hecton doesn't translate. But Finnick can figure that one out himself.

His chest floods with relief. "I'll keep it in mind."

You wave. /Goodbye, Finnick./ The way you sign his name is different. Where he is expecting to see the familiar letters you showed him last night, he finds a wave of your hands and a fond smile.

He winks at you. "Goodbye, sweetcheeks."

You scrunch your nose, circling your hand over your belly. /Gross./

Hecton is already walking you away as Finnick blows you a cheesy kiss, mirroring the one you'd done for the audience earlier. You wave him off, smiling and shaking your head as you go.

When you're far enough from him, walking away from backstage to wherever you were headed now, Hecton's intense brows are furrowed in what you can only assume is annoyance at his distrust in Finnick.

/You seemed familiar./

/Stop./

Music to My Eyes taglist: ... This is a temporary taglist for those who want to be tagged in the sequel to Music to My Eyes, Finnick Odair x Reader. Please keep in mind that once the second part is posted, the tag will disappear. Feel free to DM, comment, or send me an ask to be added, if you would like. Or simply add yourself here...

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair fluff #reader insert #female reader #deaf reader

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whatdudtheysay · 1 year

Text

Michael Afton x F!reader

Credit to the makers of the boarders

B- Michael's helping you move into your college dorm room but he finds something he wasn't supposed to..

CW - breeding, vibrator use, marking, fingering, squirting

Not proofread

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"Andd here's the last box-" Michael grunted, placing it on the floor beside your bed. "What's in these things. Anyway?"

You shrugged. "Just some decorations, clothes and my bedding."

He nodded, laying on your bed while groaning.

You smiled and sat beside him.

"Thanks for the help today....I can pay you back by getting us some food?"

Michael nodded, still tired from all the work he did today.

You laughed lightly before getting up and grabbing his car keys from the side table.

"I'm taking your car, byee!"

Before he could respond, you were already out of the door. Michael took a deep breath, looking around your room and then at the large window. The moon was already rising. He didn't think time had gone by that fast.

Michael got up, looking at the messy boxes around your room. Out of kindness, he got up and grabbed the box cutter on your dresser and knelt beside a box. He may as well lessen your work load and he figured it'd take a while for you to pick up the food, especially at this time.

He cut open a few boxes, taking out clothes and storing them in dressers, moving onto decorating your shelves and bookcase with the potted plants and clutter you had bought, even deciding to place the bedding on your mattress and duvet, unboxing your 'special pink pillows' as you called them.

Once everything was stored, he caught a glimpse of one last box, sighing heavily before cutting it open. He expected more clothes or some framed pictures. Instead he saw lace. Lace underwear and bras.

This part had completely flown over his head. He contemplated for a few seconds. Would you be mad that he saw them? Would you forget about it yourself?

He was about to shut the box before he saw a pink velvet box in the corner, covered by some more underwear. Michael's curiosity got the better of him and he ended up pushing past your underwear, picking up the box, placing the one with your underwear on the box. He examined the box, it was a plain mauve with a black ribbon covering the lid.

He opened it, his eyes widening when he saw what looked like a vibrator. He picked it up, placing the box on the bed whilst he looked at it. He shouldn't have been this surprised. You were still young and obviously had needs he hadn't really thought of, especially since you were a relatively shy girl.

Experimentally, he clicked the power button, watching as it whirled to life, vibrating against his palm.

He was basically in a trance. His thoughts turning a lot more lewd as he imagined how you got off to it.

"Alright! I'm back." You announced, suddenly coming to your dorm again.

The door slamming shut was the only thing that broke the silence. Your eyes moved from the box on the floor to the still working vibrator in Michael's hand.

Blood rushed to your face, dropping the bag with the food you picked up.

You both stared at each other for another minute before you lunged towards Michael, desperately trying to get the toy off of him.

"ah- hey! Y/n, wait!" He stammered, trying to get you to calm down, holding the toy above his head.

"Why'd you take it out!" You whined, your eyes watering with embarrassment. "At least turn it off-"

You clambered on top of Michael, causing both of you to fall against your bed. Michael generously held onto the power button, making the toy turn off.

You reached for it against but Michael rolled it over to the end of the bed, holding your hips in place so you couldn't go after it.

It was only after that did you both notice the position you were in, as well as you noticing the bulge pressing against your crotch, making you even more embarrassed.

"Sheesh, calm down. It's not a big deal." Michael reassured.

You felt more than ashamed. Michael held onto you, sitting up, your hands moving to his chest to stabilise you.

A small silence passed, both of you still looking at each other.

An idea flashed over Michael, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"How about you show me how you use it, hm?"

You almost mentally shut down, your mind going hazy.

"No way-"

You pushed against him, trying to create distance which was almost impossible because of his hands that wrapped around your waist.

"Why not? You still acting shy?"

He pushed you off of him, not giving you a chance to even get comfortable before he was towering over you.

Your heart raced. Michael was your best friend. If you crossed this line again your friendship would be at stake.

His lips latched onto the side of your neck, sucking whilst his hands fondled your breasts.

"Mmnh- Michael wait," you sighed, trying not to submit to his touches.

He moved away from you, eyes locking with yours.

"You wanna stop?"

You bit your bottom lip, eyes moving to the evident bulge in his pants.

"No, I'm just worried," you murmured. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship."

Michael leaned down again, kissing your neck softly.

"Just relax, ok?"

You nodded and winced slightly at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

Michael's hand moved to your shirt, pulling it up with your bra, his fingers tweaking your nipples. Your back arched, a small whine coming from your swollen lips.

He moved away from your neck, pulling your clothes off properly and throwing them somewhere in your room, moving to tug your jeans off.

Once the obstructing material was off, he discarded his own. Pulling off his shirt and taking off his sweatpants.

You raked your hands over his built body, biting the inside of your cheek.

Michael groped your breast with more ease, his other hand moving to tease your clit through the soft material of your panties, making you whimper with need.

"Michaell don't tease me, Please-" you moaned, rolling your hips up to meet his fingers.

"Why not, you're so cute when you're needy." He grinned, applying pressure that had your nerves screaming.

Your small whimpers and begs fell deaf on his ears as he continued teasing you. He dipped his hand down, stopping at the wet patch on your underwear.

"Looks like you're getting warmed up." Michael hummed, his hand dragging your panties down.

You helped him, kicking them off. He spread your legs, looking in awe at how your pussy clenched around nothing, dripping with need. He moved to the side, grabbing the vibrator he had pushed to the side.

The thought of edging you further crossed his mind but he saw how badly you needed it. And quite frankly, he didn't think he'd be able to hold back either.

His fingers sunk into your wet heat, making you twitch with need, your hips rolling up to meet his deep thrusts.

Choked moans filled the air, your hair sticking to you due to the sweat coating your body. Michael's fingers were driving you insane, your fingers clinging to the sheets with need.

You knew you were done for once Michael turned the vibrator on, pressing it firmly against your clit.

"No, no, no!! Michael, pleasee -" you moaned, trying to move away from the toy, Michael applying more pressure as a result.

"cmon, y/n." Michael cooed, his fingers slipping out of your wet heat, moving to hook in the band of his underwear, pulling them down to reveal his hard dick, precum leaking from the tip.

You whimpered at the length of Michael, thinking about the deep spots he'd be able to hit in just a few moments.

"You ready, hm?" He asked, turning the power of the vibrator higher with your lack of response.

You suddenly nodded, back arching as your orgasm crept up your leg. Michael reduced the power, making you whine and pout. Luckily, it was all cut short once Michael pushed his tip against you, only giving you a somewhat warning before he bottomed out, forcing a gasp out of you.

"Michael - pleasee-" you moaned, eyes almost rolling back when he began to mercilessly pound into you, the vibrator being a cherry on top, feeding deliciously into your seemingly endless pleasure.

"Fuckk, can't help it, y/n. You're hugging me so fuckin' tight -" Michael groaned, increasing the pressure against your clit.

Your hands grabbed at your newly placed sheets, trying to grab hold of your consciousness as Michael spared you no mercy on your poor cunt, trying to control your jolts when Michael suddenly changed the setting.

"Michael -" you whined, brows knitting together. "Gonna cum, but I feel weird-" you panted, a weird racey feeling rapidly building in your stomach.

"Shit-" Michael moaned, moving the vibrator away and replacing it with his fingers, drawing hard circles against your clit. "Give it to me, y/n."

You couldn't help it anymore. You came around him, hard. Your orgasm squirting against Michael's pelvis, his hips continuing to fuck into you. Your walls fluttered and hugged Michael tightly, Michael's hips stuttering slightly before he jolted against you, releasing his seed into you.

You rested against your sheets tiredly, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened.

"fuck, y/n...." Michael sighed, looking down at the mess you'd both created, slowly pulling out of you, watching how his cum poured out.

"let's get you cleaned up first." Michael advised.

You nodded, slowly getting up.

You knew you'd have to sort this whole thing out later but now, you decided to just let Michael take care of you.

❤︎

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

A/n - this was really rushed so, so sorry for the short ending ❪⠀ᥫ᭡⠀❫

#michael afton smut #michael afton x reader #michael afton #five nights at freddy's #smut #fnaf smut

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