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Finnick Odair x reader

And I fell to the ground… I couldn't discerned the environment around me as my eyes could barely stay open due to the sun's rays.

Not far from where I lay helpless, there was the body of the tribute from the second district, without his head.

The fight had been to the death and that feeling of numbness, caused by I don't know what, hadn't helped me at all. I don't even know how I managed to raise my sword, since I was on my knees in front of him partially unable to breathe, and manage to complete a blow that managed to decapitate him.

Before entering the arena I would never have considered myself capable of carrying out such an atrocious action, but once you’re inside you can't wait to leave, but in my case dying was not allowed: my family is waiting for me at home, the last wish of a little girl from the seventh district was “Please, live your life for me too”, and lastly I promised someone that I would come back for him.

15 days ago

“Don't you dare leave me alone, there, without you. I'm begging you, darling. I can't live without you anymore.” My hand caresses his cheek; he is sitting in a chair with his arms around my waist.

“Finnick, you were a wonderful experience…”

“You were everything, you are everything.” His hands caress my back; I approach his lips and kiss them.

“I'll do anything for you, Y/n. My sweet girl, my sweet Y/n…”

“But please, not that… I don't want you to do that kind of things, Finn. Please, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you give yourself to someone who doesn't deserve you, neither your body. You’re gold… they don't deserve you.”

“And I don't deserve you, my love. I don't deserve you..."

“Don’t say shit… instead take me, Finn. Take me in your arms until the sun rises…”

“I was wanting for it for all this time, Y/n…”

We moved to the bed where we remained until the next day, the day we would have to separate without the certainty of being able to see each other again.

He was lying on his back and I was with my head on his chest.

“I think I love, Y/n.” I didn't react to those words; I didn't move an inch. I couldn't say I loved him because tomorrow I won't wake up knowing that he will be by my side but knowing that tomorrow will be either a goodbye or a see you later...

“Finnick…” I whisper softly and with a trembling voice.

“It's okay, honey. I said I think I love you… I'm not sure, yet.” His little laugh penetrated my heart… «I do love you» this was all I wanted to tell him but I wasn't brave enough.

Before it was too late, they took me from the arena and I was brought back to the Capitol, fresh as a rose: they had washed and restored every single remnant of the island, as if those 15 days had never happened.

My head stopped spinning, my eyes could see clearly again, my belly was intact again...

“We're here,” a woman informed me.

I stood up and felt neither fatigue nor pain, yet my right leg was torn until a few hours ago.

When the door of the plane opened, I almost rushed down, looking only for those sea green eyes that have encouraged me several times even from afar.

We had landed right on the roof of the building where I had been staying in the days before the Hunger Games.

As soon as I looked out of the plane's steps, a voice shouted my name.

“Yn!”

I turned towards his voice and saw him: a Greek God, breathtakingly beautiful, looking only in my direction.

I started running, feeling the need to throw myself into his arms.

How I missed… my mentor. Even if within a few days he had become something more and I had only understood it in the arena, when at the end of my strength his gifts fell from the sky, always accompanied by a note: “you're doing great, honey. ” “Keep fighting, sweet girl.” “Survive, baby.”

Every time I've got his messages I couldn't help but smile like a child.

Finally the meters separated us disappeared and I was finally in the safest place I could wish for: in the arms of Finnick Odair.

“Thanks, Finnick. You saved my life..." I whispered against his chest: his hands were one around my hips and the other immersed in my hair.

“No, you saved my life by winning that fucking game. How could I live without you?” He said leaving a kiss on my forehead. I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his eyes: beautiful but a little shiny.

“Finnick…”

“Yes, honey?” His hand moves to my check.

“I'm glad you're here.”

“Always, baby. I will always be by your side from now on, Y/n, I promise.”

Our embrace melted after a while, his hand took hold of mine and we went inside.

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” He said hesitantly, his confidence had disappeared: and he was only acting like that because he didn't want to force me to do anything.

“Of course, I wanna be with you tonight and the days after tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that… forever, Finnick.” A dazzling smile lit up his face: his lips placed a kiss on my hand which he held tightly in his.

“I love you, Y/n. You don't know how much.” My heart melted and I pulled him close to me, wrapping my arms around him. But he, with incredible speed, lifted me off my feet, placing my legs around his hips.

“You're coming into my room tonight, little girl.” Whisper in my ear “You want this, right?” I nodded. There was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him…

So I was carried into his room.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He wisher and all I knew was that all my body was going on fire.

“Finnick, I'm yours, do to me what you want, I love you.” And this was the phrase of affirmation that man, as beautiful as the sun, needed to free himself from all that tension that he had to endure in those long days.

His lips ran down on my neck licking and sucking it. His hands reached up and unhooked my bra from over the sweatshirt I was wearing. My hands slid under his shirt, lifting it up, revealing his defined muscles.

“Do you like what you're seeing?” My response was only a muffled moan which, however, made him more excited.

While he continued to kiss my neck, he pressed me against the wall, I couldn't breathe: my desire for him was palpable and he was eager to have... me.

I took off my shirt and he threw away my bra, taking one breast in his hand: he squeezed it and rubbed his finger against the already swollen nipple.

Our mouths were one inside the other, and with his tongue he was devouring me: he sucked my lower lip, bit it and I tried to keep up with him but it was useless... I wasn't on his level.

Suddenly from the wall I found myself lying on the bed with Finnick pulling down my pants... caressing every inch of skin that he discovered little by little.

Once the trousers were off, he threw them across the room. He returned to my lips, careful to make his cock touch, hard, against my vagina.

I started lifting my pelvis moving it left and right, feeling his erection getting bigger and bigger.

“Careful, darling…” Finnick grunted, lifting his head and my movements became faster.

A guttural moan escaped him from those lips on which I rushed to devour them. His fingers reached the elastic of the panty and snapped it.

“Beg me…” And I wasn't even able to breathe let alone talking.

“Finnick, I want you, please…” with his palm he rubbed me underneath and I opened my legs more. I wanted every single part of my body.

He walked away from me, undid his belt, and took off his pants and boxers. He came back on me, leaving a nice mark on my collarbone as I raised my pelvis to touch his member.

“Stay down, Y/n.”

“Finnick…” his name was like a prayer, a cry addressed to him to speed up the process… but he didn't seem to care about my inability to hold back any longer. I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks and he was making me suffer before satisfying me, filling me up.

His cock moved away from the center of my legs and Finnick positioned himself right there.

“Let's see..." his finger traced a vertical line from bottom to top. "How wet you are, good girl." His head lowered and the contact of his hot tongue against my wetness made a cry escape my mouth...

“Yes, baby, let me hear you…” he said making me vibrate. He pinched my clit with his teeth and my hand dipped into his hair, pushing him closer and closer.

After exploring the entire area with his tongue, he began to make circular movements: fast, insatiable.

“Finnick…”

Between various moans and whispers of his name, I felt his finger entering me.

“Honey, you're so tight…” he said this time raising his head.

“I love it…” he smirked and started to move his finger up and down, curling it. Meanwhile, with the other hand he took care of the clit: rubbing and pinching it.

“More…” I wishered.

“As you want.” He put his middle finger to his lips. “Will you do it for me?” I nodded and took him between my lips, sliding my tongue along the length of him.

“Nice technique, love.” He smirked and finally I had two fingers of him in me.

I could easily come if he will keep going like that…

“Fin, please, I’m… close.” Another prayer came out of my lips. He just smiled and, finally, removed his fingers and brought his cock against my entrance.

It was so big, so bulky. I wasn't even sure if I could have him in me.

“Tell me to stop if it's too much painful…”

I wasn't scared at all, even if that was my first time and he knew it, all that I wanted was him.

Finally I felt his length in me, he entered slowly and his movements were the softest. As my walls adapted to his presence, he increased the intensity of the movements and I began to accompany them with my hips. And just when we reached a certain speed, my body contracted with numerous shocks and I came between moans and crying of his name.

As soon as my juice wet his member I saw a sparkle in his eyes and his movements became harder, more violent. My fingers gripped his back and I screamed his name over and over again. We both moaned and my legs trembled, but he didn't seem to get tired, in fact his movements, accompanied by the squirm due to the fact that I had come, were more and more violent but I didn't want him to stop, on the contrary...

Suddenly he exploded inside me, making me arch my back and fall my head onto the bed; filling me with him.

He fell on top of me, still inside me.

Our breaths were ragged and both our bodies were hot, quivering.

We didn't say a word until we were clear again.

Yes he slipped out from inside me and dropped onto the bed. His hand slipped underneath me and turned me onto my side.

“Are you okay?” He asked me gently and in a way that I just adored.

“I feel epic.” He laughed and that sound was all I needed to be happy.

“I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you too, my loudest girl.”

a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

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

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be ­­crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t describe even it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

Dean Winchester x reader

Summery: you and Sam are happily together but one night Dean gets drunk and he finds himself confesses his love for you.

«Dean, I think you drank too much tonight.» I say grabbing his hand before he could take another sip from his drink.

«Do you have in mind something greeter than drink? ‘Cause if you do, please tell me.» Dean uses an ironic tone. I roll my eyes. He bites his lips.

«I love getting on your nerves, you know? You’re damn sexy when you’re upset…» his hand goes on my cheek and caresses it with his thumb.

I don’t understand what is going on, why he is doing that… yes, he was always kind to me but not that much; well maybe he is just drunk.

«Dean…» he shakes his head.

«Just a few moments… please.» he says and I nod.

«Are you okay?» I ask him looking in his eyes. «I mean, apart everything strange and scary and…» he talks before I can finish my sentence.

«No, I’m not okay.» When he says it I notice the sadness on his face.

«Would you like to tell me what is wrong?» I smile at him, and Dean does a little smirk.

«I could never ask you that. I can’t even say it aloud.» his hand’s still on my face.

«What’s up? You’re scaring me.» he smiles and takes off his hand of my face.

«When I look at you all I think is “I can’t do that”, you know? Because you’re Sammy’s. But, god, I wish you were mine.» he turns around and gets off the bar while I stay there, paralysed.

He just said that he wants me? I take my jacket and go after him.

Dean stands against his car, with the hands in his pockets and the head low.

«What was that?» I ask almost yelling.

«Calm yourself, sweetheart. I’m drunk. I don’t know what I’m saying.» he says without watching me.

«You know I’m with Sam, right?» He rolls his eyes and does a grin.

«Yes, I know. And you don’t make me forget about it even for a damn minute. How many times you moan his name when he fucks you? When he takes you in the shower? When he kisses your neck? Have you ever think about I could hear you? Or maybe that turn you on more and more?» he come closer to me and makes me push against the Impala. He is in front of me with his arms at the sides of my body.

«How many times I had to stay out of the room because you two were making out and all I could think was “Damn it, I wanna be the one who fucks her.” But no, you choose Sam… the big bad nerd. And what about me?»

He kisses my neck, really he is sucking my skin.

«Dean… stop.» I say but I understand, from my tone, I don’t mean it.

«Tell me you love Sam… I dare you.» his hands explore my body and one of them stops at my thigh. He grabs it and push it to make his room to my vagina. He touches me there and, even if my jeans are on, I fell wet.

«Dean…» I whisper.

«Yes, moan my name darling.» His hand slips under my shirt and unhook my bra.

«Would you like to continue in the car or I have to take you right there?» he whisper at my ear. I’m not able to talk, I feel the passion grows in me.

«I’m with Sam…» I say in a whisper.

«You want me.» while he’s saying this words he grabs my chin lifting my face.

«I want you…» he kisses my lips. His tongue opens my mouth strongly but I don’t step back, instead I kiss him back. My hand is lost in his hair pushing him closer. His hands unbutton my jeans and he opens the car door.

We enter in the Impala, he is over me.

«Now, Y/n, you’re mine.» he says firmly and I nod.

«I’m yours.» He smirks and winks.

«Yes, you are.» He lowers over me pulling me off my shirt and my bra. He grabs one of my boobs with his hand squeezing it tight, meanwhile he takes in his lips the nipple of the other.

My hands reach his jeans to unbutton it but he stops me.

«I’ll tell you when it’s time. Just enjoy it.»

He returns on his job on my boobs but I wanna more so I lift my hips against him.

«Please, Dean…» he bites my nipple making me moan and lowers on my pants.

He touches me.

«You have wet your panty… good girl.»

Without taking off my underwear he rubs my clit and I help the movement by moving me against his finger.

He finally takes it off and puts his finger in the middle of it. He licks it.

«Delicious... I think Sam likes it. Have you ever tasted you?» I shake my head.

«What a shame. You should do that, you’re so good.»

Then he opens my legs a little more and pulls his tongue against my pussy licking it.

«Dean…» I moan when he bites my clit. He makes his tongue goes round and round while he stinks his finger in my sex.

«I have to say it, you squeeze so tight. I like it.»

«more…» I moan for more.

He sticks out his finger, takes off his jeans and his pants and enters inside me.

The both of us moan at the same time and he starts to move his hips. He pushes himself inside me more and more, I follow his movement.

«Dean I’m…» I say in a wisher, I feel so high and full… his pushes become more strong.

I come all over his sex but he doesn’t stop.

«Oh, you’re amazing.» I say while he continues to push. I want him to be pleased like I am so I make him come closer to so he’s almost lying over me. I wrap his waist with my legs and he grabs my back. I take off his shirt and I kiss him at the lips, neck, shoulder, chest, everywhere.

«I’m close…» he says and I squeeze his sex tighter. When he tries to get off of me to come and keep him strongly against me.

«Y/n, I can’t…»

«I want you inside of me.» He comes and all of him fill me completely.

We stay for a little like this then he lift up getting out of me.

We look at each other without saying a word then we dress up.

When we have done and the high was gone, I feel terrible.

«Dean…» I try to say something but nothing come out of my mouth.

«I don’t judge you. I’m not thinking about you betraying my brother with me, all I’m thinking is that this was the best night of my life.»

Dean Winchester x reader

Summery: you and Sam are happily together but one night Dean gets drunk and he finds himself confesses his love for you.

«Dean, I think you drank too much tonight.» I say grabbing his hand before he could take another sip from his drink.

«Do you have in mind something greater than drink? ‘Cause if you do, please tell me.» Dean uses an ironic tone. I roll my eyes. He bites his lips.

«I love getting on your nerves, you know? You damn sexy when you’re upset…» his hand goes on my cheek and caresses it with his thumb.

I don’t understand what is going on, why he is doing that… yes, he was always kind to me but not that much.

«Dean…» he shakes his head.

«Just a few moments… please.» he says and I nod.

«Are you okay?» I ask him looking in his eyes. «I mean, apart everything strange and scary and…» he talks before I can finish my sentence.

«No, I’m not okay.» When he says it I notice the sadness on his face.

«Would you like to tell me what is wrong?» I smile at him, and Dean does a little smirk.

«I could never ask you that. I can’t even say it aloud.» his hand’s still on my face.

«What’s up? You’re scaring me.» he smiles and takes his hand off my face.

«When I look at you all I think is “I can’t do that”, you know? Because you’re Sammy’s. But, god, I wish you were mine.» he turns around and gets off the bar while I stay there, paralysed.

He just said that he wants me? I take my jacket and go after him.

Dean stands against his car, with the hands in his pockets and the head low.

«What was that?» I ask almost yelling.

«Calm yourself, sweetheart. I’m drunk. I don’t know what I’m saying.» he says without watching me.

«You know I’m with Sam, right?» He rolls his eyes and does a grin.

«Yes, I know. And you don’t make me forget about it even for a damn minute. How many times you moan his name when he fucks you? When he takes you in the shower? When he kisses your neck? Have you ever think I could hear you? Or maybe that turn you on more and more?» he comes closer to me and makes me push against the Impala. He is in front of me with his arms at the sides of my body.

«How many times I had to stay out of the room because you two were making out and all I could think was “Damn it, I wanna be the one who fucks her.” But no, you choose Sam… the big hot nerd. And what about me?»

He kisses my neck, really he is sucking my skin.

«Dean… stop.» I say but I understand, from my tone, I don’t mean it.

«Tell me you love Sam… I dare you.» his hands explore my body and one of them stops at my thing. He grabs it and push it to make his room to my vagina. He touches me there and, even if my jeans are on, I feel wet.

«Dean…» I whisper.

«Yes, moan my name darling.» His hand slips under my shirt and unhook my bra.

«Would you like to continue in the car or I have to take you right there?» he whispers in my ear. I’m not able to talk, I feel the passion grows in me.

«I’m with Sam…» I say in a whisper.

«You want me.» while he’s saying these words he grabs my chin, lifting my face.

«I want you…» he kisses my lips. His tongue opens my mouth strongly, but I don’t step back, instead I kiss him back. My hand is lost in his hair pushing him closer. His hands unbutton my jeans and he opens the car door.

We enter in the Impala, he is over me.

«Now, Y/n, you’re mine.» he says firmly and I nod.

«I’m yours.» He smirks and winks.

«Yes, you are.» He lowers over me pulling me off my shirt and my bra. He grabs one of my boobs with his hand, squeezing it tight, meanwhile he takes in his lips the nipple of the other.

My hands reach his jeans to unbutton it, but he stops me.

«I’ll tell you when it’s time. Just enjoy it.»

He returns to his work on my boobs, but I wanna more so I lift my hips against him.

«Please, Dean…» he bites my nipple making me moan and, finally, he lowers on my pants.

He touches me.

«You have wet your panty… good girl.»

Without taking off my underwear, he rubs my clit and I help the movement by moving me against her finger.

He finally takes it off and puts his finger in the middle of it. He licks it.

«Delicious... I think Sam likes it. Have you ever tasted you?» I shake my head.

«What a shame. You should do that, you’re so good.»

Then he opens my legs a little more and pulls his tongue against my pussy licking it.

«Dean…» I moan when he bites my clit. He makes his tongue goes round and round while he stinks his finger in my sex.

«I have to say it, you squeeze so tight. I like it.»

«Another…» I moan for more.

He sticks out his finger, takes off his jeans and his pants and enters inside me.

The both of us moan at the same time and he starts to move his hips. He pushes himself inside me more and more, I follow his movement.

«Dean I’m…» I say in a wisher, I feel so high and full… his pushes become stronger.

I come all over his sex but he doesn’t stop.

«Oh, you’re amazing.» I say while he continues to push. I want him to be pleased like I am so I make him come closer to so he’s almost lying over me. I wrap his waist with my legs and he grabs my back. I take off his shirt and I kiss him on the lips, neck, shoulder, chest, everywhere.

«I’m close…» he says and I squeeze his sex tighter. When he tries to get off of me to come and keep him strongly against me.

«Y/n, I can’t…»

«I want you inside of me.» He comes and all of him fill me completely.

We stay for a little like this then I lift up getting out of me.

We look at each other without saying a word then we dress up.

When we have done and the high was gone, I feel terrible.

«Dean…» I try to say something but nothing comes out of my mouth.

«I don’t judge you. I’m not thinking about you betray my brother with me, all I’m thinking is that this was the best night of my life.»

Dean Winchester x Reader

Not a boring life

«Are you listening to me? Dean.» Castiel puts his hand on my shoulder .

«I was thinking… you can read minds, don’t you?» Castiel looks at me.

«Yes, I can. Why?»

«The son of a bitch of that fucking angel made me see a reality in 6 years from now and… Sam had become his vassal, and Y/n was with him. They were, I mean… together. Besides, the devil told me I would lose her because he offered her something I can never give her. I know there’s a chance he’ll take Sam, but her?»

In my mind, I relive that damn moment a hundred of times: Sam, who isn’t Sammy anymore, possessed by the devil and Y/n who is at his side and he caressed her! That drives me crazy.

«So?» Castiel asks.

«Read Y/n’s mind, see if you can find something that she has lost or someone. Maybe she desires something more than anything.»

«Wouldn’t be better if you ask her?»

«Wouldn’t be better if you do what I asked you and don’t say a thing?!» he nods and disappears.

2 minutes later

«Done.»

«Oh, you’re already back.» I lean against the wall.

«So, what is her biggest secret?» I say funny but Castiel looks at me with a serious, too much seriousness, face.

«She lost her family: her dad died of a cancer when she was young and then her mother and her brother died in a car accident five years ago.» He tells me the story, and I see in his eyes the sadness.

«is there anything else? Why do you have that face?»

« I saw her feeling, Dean. It was distressing to see her memories, devastating to live them I guess. Besides it was hard to find those memories, it was like she erased them. She was alone most the time of her life. A child growing up too fast. But when she lost her mom and her brother in a car accident, she was in the car but she survived. She spent months to recovery, she wanted die with them...»

«She wanted to die? Why she didn’t tell me nothing?»

«Calm yourself, Dean, she has her reasons.»

«Yeah, and she can talk to me! I could help her.»

«Don’t you understand, Dean? She can’t even think about it… losing before her father, then all the rest of her family. Y/n just wants…»

«What?» Castiel and I turn around and see Y/n at the door. She just looked at Castiel, though.

«Cass, say that is not what I’m thinking…» Cass looks down at his feet.

«Why did you do that?» Her eyes begin to fill with tears.

«I’m sorry, Y/n…» Cass says.

«Why did you do that? Why are you talking to him about it?» Her breath becomes irregular. I approach her, but she immediately backs up.

«I wanna an answer Cass! Why did you do that?» Y/n yells at him. Cass’s embarrassment is evident.

«I asked him to do that.» as I said that she slowly turns to me.

«Why…?» I try again to get close to her, but she still backs up.

«That was my life! I had to be the one to tell you that not an angel who can reads minds! Why did you do that?» Y/n yells at me preventing me from approaching her.

«Baby, I asked Cass to do that because I need to know why you in 6 years, you would’ve said yes to the devil… the fucking angel made me see a reality, in 6 years from now, where you and Sam were with Lucifer and I realised I have to make things work differently…»

«Why didn’t you ask me, first?» i try to approach her again but she won’t let me touch her.

«Honey, why didn’t you tell me that? I could help you. I love you, I’m sorry for what you had to live through.»

But these words don’t calm her down, they make her more nervous.

«Yes? What would you have done? Take them back? That is impossible, and all I want is to forget! Forget about everything that has happened to me before this life with you! Sorry for not telling you anything that happens on this or whatever happen before that we met but I can’t…» she makes a pause, then say

«But you didn’t have the right to steal my secrets.» When she finishes talking, she turns and leaves the room.

«Oh, maybe you, Cass, could read my mind so you’ll explain to your friend how I feel right now. Steal this from me too.» She says defiantly to Castiel.

Now I feel guilty for both her and Cass too.

«Y/n, please listen to me…»

«LEAVE ME ALONE!I always respect the fact that you didn’t wanna talk about what fucking happened in the hell and I was okay with that! I never said nothing even when you didn’t wanna explain why you were sad or angry or whatever. Why can’t you do the same with me? Or maybe you could ask me instead…»

«Come on, love, lemme explain…»

«Yeah, no. The only thing that I wanna do is run away from here. Before you destroy everything, with you I never think about that! But you have to know, right? All that matters was that you know.

Don’t follow me, I hate you right now and I don’t wanna even see you.»

These words strike me deeply... but it is true, I never told her what had happened in hell or the shit life I had before meeting her. Yet, she was always by my side when all I needed was a hug.

The sound of the door closing makes me lose my mind.

«Sorry Cass… »I say quickly and I go to the room. Y/n's voice is the only thing I can hear when I look in the mirror and see myself.

I punch the mirror, hurting my hand, then

I throw the TV and lampshades on the ground. Then I take the chair and split it on the dresser...

After completely destroying the room, I sit on the floor leaning against the wall, covering my face with my hands.

I’m tired of always trying to do the right thing to protect the people I love but, no matter what I do, everything has to fuck up!

Every fucking time!

Y/n’s pov

After running until my feet begged me to stop, I sat by a lake.

Dean didn’t have to do this to me, he didn’t have to steal my thoughts. And yet it’s his style. Getting what he wants by any means...

After the last double funeral, I walked out of that house and vowed never to return. All my life, forgetting was the antidote to everything that hurt me.

But even if I try, I can’t forget, and every time these thoughts come back, I get lost.

One year after my mother and brother died, Dean came along, like a bolt from the blue. And damn me falling in love with him... of him, of the life that appeared in front me, of Sam, of hunting.

Not a boring life.

Maybe I exaggerated... the words I said to him definitely hurt him. I pick up the phone and find a message from Dean.

“I’m sorry, I know I fucked up, I know, but please before everything talk to me. Love you.”

I don’t answer the message, but I get up and go back.

I open the front door and go to the kitchen where the light is on.

«It’s very late.» Dean says.

«I’m sorry, I…» as soon as I start talking he turns to me. I see his bloody hands.

«What happen?» This time, I’m getting close to him.

«I’m sorry. I lost my mind. Look Yn, I’m really sorry. But all I wanted to do was keep you safe from Lucifer and I need to know why you would’ve chosen him.»

«I never would choose him.»

«He would promise you to take them back.»Seeing his shiny eyes saddens me and, even all he does, the only thing I wanna do is kiss him.

«This is impossible. And even if this is possible in a certain demoniac way, I don’t care: they are dead and I know that pretty well.»

I love you, Y/n. » Dean smiles and continues

«I know that I love you, sweetheart. I loved you since the first time I saw you. Every time I'm with him, I find myself forgetting all the pain I've endured when we look into each other's eyes.

«Can I touch you? » Dean asks me.

«You have to.» I find myself in his arms in a flash.

«I love you, Dean.» I hear his laugh in my ears. He takes me in his arms and rests me on the kitchen counter, I gird his life with my legs.

«You don’t know how much I love you, Y/n.» He says as he kisses my neck and my hands caress his hair.

«I’m yours…» Dean says.

«And I’m yours, Dean.»

«Say it again, I think I could come.»

«Just like this? I didn’t even touch you there…» He lifts his head from the hollow of my neck and takes my face in his hands.

«You don’t need to touch me to turn me on.» I smile and kiss him on his beautiful lips.

This is all I need to make me feel alive...

Is it just me or everyone imagine their fav characters that they are obsessing over in real life???

Like I'll be at work and then I imagine that bitch sitting next to me, talking to me and admiring me while I FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVENT KISSED A MALE SPECIES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

I don't know if that's sign of a fucking mental problem or what but I swear if I'm even Slightly upset or tired of my life i WILL open tumblr and start imagining them or talking to them (aka my wall. It be sitting there like the fuck gurl im not your man)

rest your eyes [castiel x reader]

synopsis: you can't sleep so castiel helps you

a/n: i am sick with covid and have been rewatching supernatural with my boo. castiel was literally my second crush ever, and i missed him so much, so i decided to write something (based on the fact i'm an insomniac who would totally sleep on an angel if offered)

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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

It was supposed to go: hunting a monster in the woods and returning to some dingy motel that Dean found at the end of the day. Instead, the chase led you and the rest of the squad so deep into the woods that it was wiser to set up camp than try and trek back to civilization. The camp included a rock outcropping to protect from the weather, a shitty fire, and a lack of comfortable sleeping arrangements. Sam and Dean were used to sleeping on almost anything so they could pass out immediately. You, on the other hand, had insomnia sleeping in a regular bed and knew you were going to struggle to fall asleep with nothing more than the moss covering the ground. 

Castiel didn’t sleep, so he was keeping watch. You had your jacket balled up as a pillow under your head, and instead of closing your eyes and trying to encourage rest in your body, you were staring at Cas through thick lashes. He looked up at the sky, a serene expression on his face like he was thinking about what each star meant. The light from the fire flickered across his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, even his cupid’s bow. Sometimes, you were struck by just how beautiful he was, like some Greek artists, the idea of the perfect man, sculpted to perfection and thrown at your feet for just you to enjoy. You wondered how you ended up so lucky to be blessed with his presence. 

“Why do humans enjoy looking at the stars?” Castiel asks you in a soft voice to not rouse Sam and Dean. You should’ve guessed that he would notice that you were awake.

“I think…it’s nice to think about things far away from your own life,” you hum, giving up on your rock bed and sitting up, brushing leaves and other debris out of your hair. Cas looks at you, the blue in his eyes a shifting kaleidoscope from the dancing lights around you. “And the concept of stars is beautiful,” you sighed, curling your legs up and under. Cas tilted his head at that, brows slightly furrowed. It was your favorite expression on him. 

“Stars are just clouds of gas and light,” Castiel answers. 

“But they’ve traveled thousands of light years to reach us, even if they don’t realize it,” you smile, your eyes tracing the path of various constellations. You can feel Cas’ gaze, but don’t dare look over. Looking into Cas’ eyes is falling headfirst into an abyss you didn’t prepare for. 

“I like that,” Castiel exclaims, a hint of a smile on his lips. “That’s a…human way of looking at it.”

“I am human,” you chuckle.

“Yes, you are,” he resumes, staring at the stars. It’s silent again; the only sound is the crackling of the fire and your breaths. Sometimes, the quiet is interrupted by Sam’s snoring, but you don’t mind. Your boys deserve the rest. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Castiel inquires.

“It’s hard for me to sleep, especially out here,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Castiel looks troubled by that statement like he is personally responsible for your ability to sleep. “When I was little, sometimes my Mom would put me in the car and drive me around in circles, singing or telling stories until I passed out.” You remember fondly, smiling a little to yourself. “I don’t think the ground is as comfortable as a car seat, though.”

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” Castiel asks. “If you need a pillow…you can use me.” He looks slightly uncomfortable, and the tips of his ears turn red, making you grin. He never fails to be adorable when he wants to be, and you know he’s offering out of the goodness of his heart. Still, the ID part of your brain is brainstorming all the ways he could profess his love for you, something that you stamp down as you shuffle over to him. He leans his back against one of the rock walls, stretching his legs out. He had already removed his trench coat, offering it to you as a blanket. It was large enough to swallow you and smelled precisely like Castiel in a way you wanted to remember for the rest of your life. You took your makeshift pillow and set it on his lap, laying your head there and curling up under his arm, which he hesitantly rested on your shoulder. You knew you had to coax your ever-beating heart to calm down if you were ever going to sleep, but it was hard when you were lying on the lap of an angel you had a crush on. Still, Castiel was a gentleman who didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. 

“What’s your story?” you ask, voice small as you close your eyes and relax your body. 

“Early before humans won the race for my Father’s next creation, there was a pool going on for what Earth’s next great invention would be…”

Castiel’s voice, in its low timbre, started to lull you to sleep as you listened to his story. You liked listening to him talk, and he occasionally added funny anecdotes that would make you smile. You started tuning out of the story, instead focusing on the warmth from his lap, the smell of the open air and him, and especially how his fingers had started to absentmindedly stroke shapes on your arm. Eventually, you were pulled into a deep sleep, lingering in that space where you were only slightly conscious but not awake. That space was the only way you could feel Castiel petting your hair, brushing his fingers down your scalp to your neck and back to your shoulder. Even in your dreams that night, you swear you could feel his weight everywhere. 

You slept peacefully, without interruption, the whole night. Until morning, when the sound of voices roused you from your slumber.

“...did you get a girl in your lap?” Dean asked, sounding incredulous. 

“She is not in my lap. She is lying on half of my lap,” Castiel answered, ever the stickler for exact estimates. You could hear Dean’s groan and sarcastic retort. 

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep?” you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut and pushing your face more profoundly into your pillow-jacket-thing. 

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, time to go hunting,” Dean called out. You let out a curse word, relaxing as you felt Castiel pat your head reassuringly. 

“You are much more Sleeping Beauty than I am,” you responded, finally opening your eyes to the daylight but not making a move to get up. Eventually, you realized you’d have to move, so you begrudgingly sat up, cracking your neck as you did so. “Thanks for the story, Cas,” you said, averting eye contact with the angel to avoid him seeing the light flush on your cheeks. You gave him back his coat, and he kindly removed a twig that got stuck in your sweater. 

“Did you sleep alright?” he inquired. You thought back to it and realized that for the first time in years, you slept through the whole night. 

“Yeah, I… slept well.” 

With that, Castiel smiled and helped you up. You were more alert on a hunt than you had been in a long time, all because a particular angel helped you achieve the best sleep of your life.

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: After a terrible hunt, in which Y/n almost sacrifice herself to save Dean’s life, he is pretty much angry with her.

“You’re so stupid! Have you ever think sometimes in your entire life?” Dean yells while he’s driving. “Come on Dean, leave her alone…” Sam tries to make his brother calm down but he is pretty much nervous right now. We are in the Impala and we are all injured: Sam has a bullet in his shoulder, Dean’s face is been pushed, and I had a dagger right in my stomach. I jumped in front of Dean just before the demon stabbed him.

“Yeah, come on, let’s go in hell!” Dean shouts to Sam. “I can’t believe it… why you have to do that every fucking time!” He looks at me through the driving mirror. “Dean… please, I can’t handle that right now…” I say slowly and that makes him more upset. “You could die!” “Yeah, I know but I’m not dead!” At this words Dean hits the steering wheel making me gasp. “This time! And the others damn times when you didn’t dead, thanks I don’t what, but you’ll do it if you keep with your suicide mission!”

“Dean, leave her alone. Just drive to the motel and shout up. She doesn’t need it now. I know she was a complete asshole but luckily she is alive. We are alive.” Sam turns toward me and squeezes my hand smiling. I whisper a “thank you” because Dean doesn’t say a word back, really he doesn’t say anything until we arrive at the motel.

After Dean parks the car, he and Sam help me out of the car. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Deans asks to me holding me, I look in his eyes “I need just a little rest…”. “You need more that just a little rest.”

We enter in our room and I lean on the bed, Sam goes to take ours bags from the car and Dean goes to the bathroom.

“Um, I think we should see how the injury is.” Sam says and Dean comes out of the bathroom instantly and moves closer to the bed. I nod and lift my sweater.

“I really think you need stitches.” Sam says and I cover my face with the pillow. “Do it.” Sam nods and goes to take our emergency kit.

“Now you’re scared?” Dean say with sarcasm. “Dean, I’m jaded to hear you say the same things every time! Would you like to get the dagger? I can’t understand wha do you want. You were in danger and I did the same thing that you and Sam would do if that would happen to me!” I yell at him all in once, he looks at me with wide eyes and I can say that if I wasn’t injured he would eat me alive. After a moment to calm himself he takes my hand. “I care too much for you and every damn time I see you injured I blame myself because I didn’t look after you and that’s kill me. I don’t wanna lose you…” he whispers sitting next to me. We look in the eyes and I pull him over me in the hug I know he needs.

“I need you…” he says and I hold him closer to me. “I need you more than ever… I can’t lose you.” The tears, I was trying to keep, start to drop on his shoulder silently.

“Dean, you never gonna lose me. I will stay with you forever and ever because… you’re everything I have. I lo…” He takes my face into his hands and pull his lips against mine. The kiss is gentle, soft… sweet. “I love you, Y/n” and he kisses me once more “I love you” another kiss “I can’t live without you” and he pulls me into his chest.

“Y/n, if you only knew for how much I was dreaming to kiss you, you wouldn’t believe me.” And a soft laugh came out of his mouth.

“Ok, Y/n, I’m here. Are you ready?” Sam arrives with the most scaring thing that I know, needle… I squeeze myself more into Dean. “I will be here, sweetheart.” Dean says all smiling. “I promise I don’t gonna hurt you.” Sam tries to reassure me.

After the most painful hour of my life Sam ended his jobs and went to do a shower, so it’s me and Dean another time. Alone.

“Where we were? Hm… yes, I was kissing you!” Dean smirks and come closer. And we let's start kissing again. This time the kiss is more passionate; his hands explore my body. Then his lips go away from mine and descend to the neck where he focused kissing and sucking there where, surely, I will find the memory of this. Meanwhile, his hands touch my breast and I can hear the nipples become turgid. "Dean ..." My hands slide under his shirt and feel the contact with his hot skin. I wrap his waist with my legs and he starts caressing them up and down. I can fell the desire growing more and more. I can feel that Dean is trying to control himself because of my stitches. “I need you right now.” He say between sights.

“How you’re feeling, Y/n? Oh… sorry, I didn’t…” As me and Dean hear Sam getting out of the bathroom we move away from each other. “Relax, Sammy, we’re dressed. Me and you will finish this another time.” He leans toward me to kiss mommy forehead and after a little wink to his brother he closes himself in the bathroom.

“So? Finally you and him?” Sam asked and I nod smiling.