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wife-of-all-dilfs · 1 year ago

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what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years ago

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Hi! I love your fics so much and wanted to send in a request if that would be okay with you!!💗 could you please do a lifeguard!Ari Levinson x Tiny!reader where she brings him lunch while he’s at work, she’s wearing a bikini… obvi. When she gets there she sees girls flirting and staring at Ari and she gets really jealous, size kink… smut? 😁

hey honey! thank you so much, I'm sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it.

summary - you go to surprise your boyfriend and get jealous over the women hanging around him.

warning - smut, angst, jealousy, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, swearing, public sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You wanted to surprise your partner. You decided to make his favourite food, wrapping it in cute packaging before putting it in an adorable picnic basket and wearing the sexy bikini that Ari had gifted you. You were happy as you skipped up, excited to see Ari, but you began to regret it as you got closer. Your man stood with tall, good-looking women around him, their hands touching his biceps, and they seemed to be flirting. Was this what he does when he’s here? Did you not mean anything? Were you too short? Many thoughts flew around in your mind, causing the green-eyed monster to appear.

You can feel your inner brat begin to make its way to the surface. With a huff, you stomp your foot and angrily turn around, not feeling in the mood to have lunch with Ari anymore. You don’t notice Ari turning his head with a smile as he sees you, which slowly turns into a frown when he catches you walking away. He growls when he realises why. These stupid bimbos are always crowding him daily, and he’s learnt to zone them out, watching out for danger. They had known he was taken, but they didn’t care, and he wished he could drown them in the same ocean he was watching.

Ari pushes the women as he stalks after you, nodding to the other lifeguard to take over for him. “Baby!” Ari huffs, breaking out into a jog as he chases after you. “Baby! Goddamit woman! Slow down!” He growls, wondering how a tiny ass woman can be so damn fast. Ari finally catches up to you, quickly getting ahead and stopping before you. He sighs when he notices the look on your face, knowing he’d have to make it up to you. “Baby girl. Where do you think you're going?”

You roll your eyes, attempting to walk past him but feel annoyed as he stops you. “Ari, let me go. I’m not in the mood. Go back to your beach, bimbos.” You grumble, and a squeal escapes as you are suddenly lifted, your feet no longer touching the ground as Ari carries you to a secluded part of the beach. Your tiny fists hit his back, gasping as his large hand smacks your plump cheeks.

Ari plonks you down onto the ground and stands over you. “Now, baby girl. You know I love you, and I’d never cheat on you, so why let your inner brat take over?” His hands rest on his hips before he kneels and crawls on top of you, gripping your cheeks softly. “Did my little baby come to give daddy some lunch, hmm? Did you come here wearing my favourite bikini and then get jealous thinking I’d rather have someone else?” A moan slips past your lips as he rubs his prominent bulge against your covered cunt. “Why don’t I make it up to you, baby.” You whine when he slides your bikini bottoms to the side and takes his throbbing member out. Ari lines the thick cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, grunting with how tight you are around him. “Fuck, baby!”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling your walls spasm wildly around his cock as he continues to push in deeper and deeper, stretching you open from the inside. Your hands fly to his back, digging your nails into his flesh as your head flies back. “Daddy! Daddy! Oh fuck!” You whine and moan, wrapping your tiny legs around his giant body. Your screams echo as he begins to pound into you, fucking you hard and deep, marking you, claiming you.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. Why would I want someone else when I have you, huh?” Ari growls, holding your tiny body down as he destroys you, taking you apart underneath him. His cock splits you open, drilling into you until you wither underneath him, your back arches, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your arousal squirts out of you and covers him. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squirt for daddy.” Ari’s hand slithers between you and plays with your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm. His balls tighten, and his cock begins to twitch wildly before thick amounts of cum spurt out of him and deep into you, stuffing you full of him. “Gonna pump you full of me, let everyone know your mine, and I’m yours as your round with my child.” You whimper underneath him, cumming at his words.

Ari leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, holding you close to him as he strokes your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. You’re my little doll.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year ago

Text

Mine

Luke Castellan x Reader

Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?

Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.

My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.

She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.

“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”

“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”

I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.

He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time

Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.

As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”

I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”

“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.

I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”

“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”

Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.

Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.

“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.

“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”

His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”

Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”

“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.

“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.

His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”

At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.

“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.

“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”

My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.

“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #Spotify

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agiiiiiiiiiiiii · 1 month ago

Text

Mrs. Hischier

Heyy, I got one more for you today!

nico hischier x reader

Theme: fluff

Words: 738

—————————————————————————

You were curled up on the couch with Nico, your legs stretched over his lap as his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your knee. The faint hum of the TV played in the background, but neither of you paid attention. Nico had a small, thoughtful smile on his face, his eyes focused on nothing in particular.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.

He chuckled softly, his gaze finally meeting yours. “I was just thinking how nice your name sounds with Hischier,” he said casually, as though it was the most normal observation in the world.

You blinked at him, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing your face. “Oh, really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “And was that one of your criteria when deciding to propose? If my name sounded good with yours?”

Nico smirked, leaning back against the couch as he squeezed your knee. “Maybe it crossed my mind,” he admitted, his tone playful. “But I think it was just a bonus. The real reason is that I couldn’t imagine you with anyone else’s last name but mine.”

Your cheeks flushed, a soft laugh escaping you. “Smooth, Hischier. Real smooth.”

He grinned and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Well, Mrs. Hischier-to-be, I’m just speaking the truth.”

————————————

You and Nico are on your honeymoon, walking along a serene beach in a tropical paradise. The warm sun is setting, casting a golden glow over everything around you. You’re hand in hand, feeling completely at peace after the excitement of the wedding.

Nico glances at you, his eyes filled with love and happiness. He smiles, pulling you a little closer as you continue walking. “Mrs. Hischier,” he murmurs softly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a teasing grin.

You chuckle, shaking your head lightly. “You’re never going to let me forget, are you?”

He laughs, a deep, carefree sound. “Why would I? It sounds perfect. Mrs. Hischier. It’s meant to be.” His gaze softens as he looks at you, full of warmth and affection. “I’ve waited so long to call you that.”

You feel a flutter in your chest, warmth spreading through you as you realize how special this moment is. “It still feels a bit unreal,” you admit, smiling shyly.

Nico stops walking and turns to face you, his hands brushing lightly over yours. “It’s real. And we’ve got forever now. I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

His voice is filled with such genuine adoration, and you can’t help but melt into his embrace. You lean in, your lips brushing against his in a sweet, lingering kiss. The ocean waves crash softly behind you, the sound like the perfect backdrop to this intimate moment.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” Nico whispers, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Now and forever, you’re mine— y/n Hischier.”

You smile, feeling completely at ease in his arms. “And I’ll be yours, always.”

————————————

You were standing in front of the mirror, smoothing out your jersey with a smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t just any game day—it was the first one since the wedding. You glanced down at the back of the jersey, the familiar “Hischier” printed boldly across the shoulders, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t just his name anymore.

As you turned to grab your bag, Nico appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with an easy grin on his face. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, his gaze lingering on the jersey.

“That’s the first time you’re wearing my name,” he said, his voice warm. “And also yours.”

You glanced at him, your heart fluttering at the softness in his tone. “I’ve worn your name before,” you teased, holding the jersey out.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping closer, “but now it means something more.” His hands rested lightly on your hips, pulling you in for a kiss. “Seeing you wear it now... it’s like you’re officially part of me. My family. My life.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you rested your hands on his chest, looking up at him. “Well, it’s your name,” you said with a grin. “And I’m proud to share it.”

He smiled, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “I’m proud you do.” After a moment, he pulled back and winked. “Just don’t distract me too much when I see you in the stands, Mrs. Hischier.”

#nhl imagine #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader

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jenosonlywife23 · 2 months ago

Text

Fragments of Us

Request; Hey! I have one but idk if it's good- Can you try writing a story where jeno left for the militiary and was presumed dead but then a few years later she sees him again only to find out he lost his memory?

a/n; @hameesstuff, this ones for you ;)

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

The crisp spring air felt heavy as you sat on the park bench, scrolling through your phone aimlessly. The news had arrived weeks ago, delivered with a knock on the door that would forever echo in your mind.

“We regret to inform you that Corporal Lee Jeno is presumed dead in action.”

Your knees had buckled at the doorway, and you gripped the frame to steady yourself. The officers standing there looked uncomfortable, their expressions rigidly neutral—trained to deliver this kind of news. But the words pierced through you like shards of glass.

Dead.

The word was too final, too cruel. The last time you had seen him, he was adjusting his uniform, brushing away your tears with a soft smile. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he’d said, voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “You just need to wait for me.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” you had whispered, and he had kissed you like it was both a promise and a goodbye.

But forever had arrived too soon.

The days that followed were a blur. You had buried yourself under his hoodies and blankets, surrounded by everything he had left behind. His scent lingered faintly on the fabric, and you would close your eyes, inhaling deeply, pretending he was still there. His absence became a constant, deafening silence. The faintest noise—footsteps in the hallway, the sound of a car passing by—had you glancing at the door, hoping against all logic that he might walk in.

Nights were the worst. You’d lie in bed, clutching his old pillow, staring at the ceiling while the world outside moved on without him. Memories came in waves—his laugh, his warmth, the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he thought you weren’t looking. And then the tears would come, unbidden and endless, until sleep finally claimed you in exhaustion.

You kept all the letters he had sent during his deployment in a wooden box under the bed. When the pain became unbearable, you’d pull them out, running your fingers over the creased paper as if touching his words could bring him back.

“I’m counting the days until I see you again,” one letter said. “Don’t forget about me, okay?”

As if you ever could.

On the day of what would have been your third anniversary, you visited the beach where he had first told you he loved you. The tide was high, the waves crashing against the rocks as fiercely as your emotions. You sat in the sand with a bouquet of wildflowers, whispering your feelings to the ocean as if it could carry your words to wherever he might be.

“I miss you so much, Jeno. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

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

Three years later, on a rainy afternoon, you wandered the small coastal town you had once loved together. Your umbrella was useless against the wind, and you ducked into a café to escape the downpour, more out of habit than need. The bell above the door jingled, and you shook out your wet hair, already reaching for a napkin to dab your face.

And that’s when you saw him.

He was by the counter, asking about pastries in a voice that was achingly familiar. Your heart stuttered, a desperate hope rising in your chest. The man—no, it couldn’t be—turned slightly, and your breath caught.

“Jeno?” The word escaped you before you could stop it, fragile and full of disbelief.

He turned toward you, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes, those same dark eyes you’d memorized, locked onto yours, but there was no recognition.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause. “Do I know you?”

Your legs felt like they might give out. The barista’s voice asking for his order was distant static. You stumbled forward, clinging to the edge of a table for balance. “Jeno, it’s me.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to place the name. But there was only polite confusion in his expression. “I’m sorry. I think you have me confused with someone else.”

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

The grief you thought you’d left behind resurfaced like a fresh wound, raw and unrelenting. That night, you opened the wooden box with trembling hands, reading through the letters again. But this time, his words felt like echoes from another lifetime, written by a man who didn’t exist anymore.

You learned the truth through painstaking effort. Jeno’s parents confirmed your worst fears: he had been the lone survivor of an explosion that claimed his unit. Rescued by a family in a remote village, he’d been hospitalized for months, suffering from severe injuries and memory loss.

“He doesn’t even remember us,” his mother said, her voice tight with unshed tears. “We’ve tried, but he’s… different now. He’s living in Seoul, trying to build a life, but he’s not the Jeno we knew.”

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

The next time you saw him, it wasn’t by accident. You waited outside the bookstore where you’d discovered he worked part-time, clutching a photo album in your hands. When he emerged, you called out to him.

“Lee Jeno.”

He turned, frowning slightly. “Yes?”

You held up the album, your fingers trembling. “You don’t remember me, but I… I loved you. We were going to get married before you left for the military.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“This is us,” you continued, opening the album to a photo of you at the beach. He stared at it, his expression unreadable.

“I…” He trailed off, his hand brushing against the image as if it might trigger something. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll try,” you whispered. “Try to remember. Or if you can’t, let me help you make new memories.”

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

It wasn’t an easy road. There were moments of hope, like when he smiled at a story you told about your first date. And moments of despair, like when he pushed you away, frustrated by the weight of expectations he couldn’t fulfill. His friends and family tried to help, but even they admitted that the Jeno they had known might never come back fully.

But you didn’t give up. You took him to the places you had once loved, surrounded him with the people who had shaped his life. Slowly, he began to relax around you, and the gaps in his memory became less of a wall and more of a bridge.

One night, as you sat on the beach where he had first kissed you, he reached for your hand.

“I’m sorry for not remembering,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But I want you to know… I think I’m falling for you all over again.”

Tears streamed down your face as you leaned into him, your foreheads touching. “Then we’ll start over,” you whispered. “And this time, I’ll hold onto you even tighter.”

The ocean roared behind you, but all you could hear was the sound of his breathing, steady and real. It wasn’t the same love story you had started, but it was yours to write anew.

(Hope you like how I wrote it (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡)

(Requests are welcomed ♡)

#nct #nct drabbles #jeno #nct dream #nct jeno #jeno x reader #nct imagines #lee jeno #jenosonlywife23

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 2 years ago

Text

imagine a jealous bucky

The sound of the waves crowded Bucky’s brain, mind circling as he focused on the scene painted in front of him. He sat, toes dug into the sand, guarding him from something he wasn’t sure of. Was it envy? He hoped not, but he sensed it – the burning green haze clouding his thoughts. He watched, sullen, as Clint grabbed you by waist. He pulled you from a large uninviting wave and when you screamed in delight, Bucky looked down at his covered feet. Clint was a married man, what was he doing with his hands all over you. What were you doing looking so wonderful under the sun?

He hated this feeling.

“Seaweed.”

Steve towered over Bucky, hands on his hips as he looked out to the ocean. Bucky said nothing, but grimaced when his friend explained he was as green as a seaward. “You do know nothings going on with those two? He could be her uncle…”

“I could be her great-grandfather, what’s your point.”

This made Steve laugh and he promptly sat next to his friend. He examined the look on Bucky’s face before watching Clint and you. The pair of you were like children, most times he had to rein you in, especially on missions. Neither of you swayed from the other, always having the other’s back – even if they were wrong. Bucky didn’t seem to understand that Clint and you were bonded, connected through years of missions and week-long stakeouts. For a long time, it had been just Clint and you. He had never seen anything but platonic love.

“…his kids think of her as their aunt.”

No words could simmer jealously running through his veins; he knew the truth, deep down he knew he could never be good enough for you. It didn’t matter if nothing was going on between the archer and you – he knew there wasn’t anything there, but still…

The water came to your waist, hand blocking the sun in your eyes as you watched Clint dive into the water. Your eyes squinted waiting for him to pop back up and when he did, you joined him deeper in the ocean. He reached out and grabbed you by the forearm, pulling you to his side. Floating next to him, you stared out toward the base of the beach. Bucky was sitting with Steve, the two shirtless and stunning but the dark-haired man was the one focused on. So smoldering, so lovely.

“Down dog.” Clint teased, closing his eyes when you splashed water at him. He wiped his face and laughed. “Two sick little puppies, Jesus, get a room.”

“Not for a lack of trying,” you muttered, eyes zeroing on Bucky. It seemed in that moment; he met your gaze and all you could manage was a dorky wave. “Smooth.” Ignoring Clint, you started back toward the sand, and he didn’t bother calling for you – instead, he enjoyed the sun on his face as he floated along. Bucky watched as you approached, his heart racing as he glanced over the swimsuit you wore. He tried not to agonize over how gorgeous you looked.

“Enjoying the water?”

“I need a break.”

Bucky patted the spot next to him on the blanket and Steve quickly made an excuse to grab some drinks from the beverage stand. You asked for two cokes, one for Clint, and the flinch in Bucky’s face didn’t go unnoticed as you sat beside him. You had never known Bucky for being the jealous type, but you recognized envy when you saw it. Plopping down, your bare shoulders pressed against his and when you leaned into it, Bucky just smiled at you.

“I’m glad we got some time off, I needed this.”

“Looked like you were having fun…”

“Yeah, Clint knows how to handle the waves really nicely.” Hiding a smile, you watched for Bucky’s reaction and nearly died at the narrowness in his eyes. Oh, if looks could kill – Barton would be a dead man ten times over. Deciding not to push too far, you touched Bucky’s thigh. He glanced over at you with a dazed expression that you could paint a million times in your mind. His eyes softer as they laid upon you; skin hot from the sun – he was perfect. “Let’s go in the water…please.”

The last word, tender and quiet, broke Bucky; he knew then, that he would do anything for you. He smiled, getting up and lending out a hand. Taking it, you rose to your feet and started toward the water. He watched, taking in the moment before jogging to catch up. You led him away from where Clint and you had been, waddling in the water backwards. Beckoning him to hurry; Bucky laughed, rushing into the cold water to catch up to you. He lost his balance, stubbing his toe on a rock as the water reached his waist. Stumbling forward, he fell into the water, and you laughed. Quickly, you swam to where he went under, pulling him up from under his arms. His metal arm glistened in the water as he took a breath of air, laughing at the mishap. His back pressed against your chest, as you held him up; hands slipping around his chest. Unable to control your laughter, you ended up losing balance as well – the two of you tumbling back into the ocean.

This time Bucky had you in his arms in seconds, holding you up as he stood on his feet. His arms were wrapped around your waist, keeping you afloat as your big toe could barely touch the bottom of the ocean. Cracking up, you gave in to Bucky’s strength. “Just hold on to me, I’m too tired.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling your back firmly against his chest. “That’s fine by me.”

Relaxing with the back of your head on his shoulder, you quietly asked if he was jealous of Clint. He answered with a quick yes. You rotated yourself in his arms to face him. Bucky’s face was inches from yours, relaxed as you slipped both arms around his neck. The sound of the waves rang in his ears, going silent when you told him that there was no need to be.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Those words, he had waited so long to hear but he still felt an inch of guilt. He sighed, looking away before shaking his head. “You deserve better than me.”

‘Oh, fuck off,” you scoffed much to Bucky’s surprise. He was speechless when you grabbed him by the chin, looking directly into his wonderous eyes. “Never in my life have I ever let a man dictate what I need or deserve. I want you and that’s that. I always get what I want, understood?”

His stoic expression urged for an add on. “Only if you want me back, I would like things to be mutually beneficial.”

Letting his chin go, you waited for a response. A second later, you snapped. “An answer would be nice, preferably before the sun goes down…”

Finally, Bucky broke out into a smile. “Are you always going to be this bossy?”

Teasing little shit.

Yanking him by the neck, you leaned into his body; his arms around your waist, holding you up against the simmered waves. Your lips pressed against his and if the ocean decided to take the two of you away – Bucky Barnes would die a happy man.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

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oceantornadoo · 1 year ago

Note

Imagine trying to get mafia!Simon to take you away on a vacation. He’s been so stressed lately, and you want to be a good wife, and get him away from it for a while.

It also doesn’t hurt that you want him completely alone, while not picking up on how he wants the exact same thing…😩😩😩

yummy. this has a smidgen of primal prey and exhibitionism with a small side of breeding kink

———————————————————————

“hi.” you sat down on the couch, taking advantage of a rare day where simon was home before dinner. you had been sleeping together (actually sleeping) since the incident, but every morning he’d leave at 6am with only a forehead kiss and you wouldn’t see him until that night, sneaking under the covers with you and falling asleep immediately. you wanted more, you wanted your husband, but unfortunately his work was keeping him extremely busy.

simon missed you so much it ached. today was a rare occasion and he was hoping to actually spend some time with you, maybe another kiss or two. he fucked his fist daily in his morning shower, thinking about you, but never had time for anything more. so when you looked at him slyly and mentioned “you know we never had a honeymoon…”, he is all over it, immediately telling his bosses he’ll be gone for a week and booking flights to territories far outside any mafia business.

which is how you ended up on one of those private islands in the caribbean, only you two and the ocean for miles and miles. you’ve decided you need to have your husband, all of him, and are finally comfortable enough to go all the way with him. it’s just a matter of making him see that…

“so if we’re all alone…” you say after breakfast the first day, taking in the sunlight and how your backyard connects to the beach. “and i don’t want tan lines…” simon’s eyes are on you, burning holes into the skimpy bikini you have on, mask halfway up his face from eating breakfast up. he’s taking in all your curves, bit of belly and some stretch marks, cataloging every piece that you’re allowing him to see. your hands track his movements sensually, sliding up from your waist to your neck, and ever so slowly, undoing the ties of your top. you hold them there for a second, reveling in the hunger in your husbands eyes. you untie the straps at the waist and the top falls, baring all of your tits to a man who might devour you right here, right now.

to cover the blush on your face, you turn around, working your bikini bottoms off, adding some sway into your hips. you bend over, fully naked, and hear something between a whine and a growl from behind you. you turn around again, baring all of you this time. if he can’t tell you want him by this, you might need to just jump on him. there’s a glint in his eyes, a reminder of ghost, the man who gets what he wants no matter what.

you’re running towards the beach, simon right behind you. he’s stripping off his shirt and mask as he goes, too caught up in the moment of care. your feet touch the ocean, stopping for a second to take in the salt in the air. that was your mistake.

simon grabs you from behind, marking you with bruises that will last for days. “thought you could run, wife? could tease me and leave?” you’re clawing at him, pretending to struggle while secretly loving it, loving this man who can catch on so well to what you want. “say red if you want me to stop.” he whispers and you nod. simon bites down on your shoulder and you gasp, the sensation so foreign. through the pain you find pleasure in being marked his, finally. he presses you against him, clad in only boxers, allowing you to feel how hard you make him. you try to run again, only moving because he lets you, making it so your torso is above the water.

simon is right there with you, standing in this ocean, captivated by you. “i’m glad we’re finally alone.” he says, stopping the scene from before so you know how much he wants you. “me too.” you reply, hands running up his torso you’ve felt in the dark but never seen. and finally your hands make it to his face, thumbs running over faded scars and bruises. you pull him in for a deep kiss, murmuring “thank you” in between kisses, grateful for this man showing you all of him. he picks you up, chest to chest, hand pulling your hair as waves gently hit you both from behind. simon is done with this, the teasing and the wanting, he just wants to take you.

so he’s running again towards the house, desperate to have you. he lays you out on the kitchen counter, a meal he’s waited weeks for. your kisses turn sloppy and he stops them, causing you to whine. “let me taste my wife, yeah?” and you nod. he makes his way down, licking your nipples, giving you slight bites when you try to tug him down more. next is your stomach, where he places reverent kisses so you know how much he loves it. finally he’s right there, licking the salt from the juncture of your thighs. your hand finds his hair and tugs it, so he tugs your nipple right back. “siii” you moan. he noses the outside of your clit, a sharp gasp bursting from your throat. “that’s what i thought.” he dives in, moving your legs over his shoulders, he starts slow, licking the remaining water from your folds. kitten licks, getting accustomed to the scent of you, his day old scruff scratching your thighs. he moves toward your hole, swirling his tongue around before finally plunging in. he’s sure to keep his nose against you clit as he tastes you, the squelching sounds increasing with every lick.

he moves his right hand from your thigh to your ass, thumb on your other hole, pausing to let you tell him off. when you don’t, he presses in slightly, just the tip of his thumb, giving you more pressure. he can tell you’re on the top of your orgasm, your walls sucking his tongue in as your whines get more desperate. he hums “come for me, lovie.” and there you are, walls clenching around nothing as he pays attention to your clit. he pushes his thumb in a bit more into your ass, prolonging your orgasm as you feel full and empty at the same time.

“simon, fuck.” you whimper at your husband between your thighs. he slowly removes himself, thumb out of you, as he gives you a slow smile, covered in your juices. he climbs forward to kiss you and just as he does, inserts two fingers into your aching cunt. you moan into his mouth, needing more. he knows. “what do you need, lovie?” simon smirks down at you, knowing you’re absolutely cockdrunk and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. “i need…” you lose your nerve, suddenly aware of being fully naked with the doors open. anyone could walk by your villa and see you spread out in front of your husband. like a switch, the thought turns you on.

“i need you to fuck me.” you say, gaining courage. he raises his eyebrows, surprised at his little wife finally saying what she wants. his dick has recovered from the ocean water so he drags down his boxers, letting you see it jut out against his stomach, leaking precum.

“need who to fuck you?” he asks, somehow climbing on the table, forearms braced against your head as his dick lays on your cunt, teasing your clit. “say it.” he growls, pinching your nipple because of your silence. you draw him in for a quick kiss, a moment of tenderness, letting him see the trust in your eyes. “need my husband to fuck his wife.” you reply, hand snaking down to pump his cock. he grunts, cock lengthening at your touch. he lays his hand on top of yours as you guide his cock to your entrance. he takes a second to read your clit with it, and while you’re gasping at the sensation, he slots it in.

you both moan at the contact, reveling in the feeling. his thumb finds your clit, swirling it as he works his way in, small strokes until you fully let him in. finally his hips are against yours, his face in the crook of your neck. “simon.” you cry, needing him to move. and he does, hips pumping into you as he rises up, one hand under your head to protect it as the other plays with your clit. you’re already on edge from his fingers, so when he changes the angle to hit your pubic bone, you’re there, walls spasming around his cock as he draws it in and out. “you feel so good, lovie. i want to make this longer but fuck.” your nails draw his hips in, letting him use you to reach his orgasm. you give him sloppy kisses, saliva dripping down to spread beneath your tits, showing him how much you want him to use you as you suck his tongue.

“come in me, si. want you to get me pregnant.” you both know you’re on birth control but that doesn’t matter in the moment. “waddling around, everyone’ll know how good you fuck your wife.” that’s it, simon’s cumming in you, white liquid seeping down your folds as your womb can’t contain all of it. you both leave his cock in you as he collapses into you, breathing hard. “want you to fuck me like that all the time, si.” you whisper, letting him know how much you liked that. “gonna be a good little wife for me? bend over anytime i want?”

“yes sir.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #cod 141 #simon riley wife #mafia au #fluff #breeding k1nk #honeymoon #tornadothoughts

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bigtreefest · 8 months ago

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Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration!!

I can’t believe it, but I’ve hit 300 followers! Thank you so much for everyone who has helped me get here and all the encouragement and love you’ve shown me. You have no idea how much it means💗 *please excuse the terrible graphic that I made on my lunch break. I tried, I swear. 🥳🥳🥳🥳🤷🏻‍♀️

For the occasion, I’m hosting a writing event! I’d love for you, yes you! to join in the celebration!! I know what you’re thinking: ‘well Essie, how do I do that?’ Let me tell you!!

Gather up all the sweet, summer vibes you can muster, along with one or multiple of the prompts listed below, and write a fic! Prompts and rules below!

Prompts:

*feel free to adjust them accordingly to work better in your fic

- pick your favorite summer song and use it to inspire your fic (optional, and very much not necessary, but encouraged. I love the songs of summer)

Scenarios:

- a character gets a sunburn

- someone lost their bathing suit in the ocean/pool

- a popsicle dripping down someone’s skin

- sand. Sand everywhere.

- beach games got a little too rough

- reading and someone gets the book wet

- putting a flower behind their ear

- babe is a surfer

- watching a sunrise/sunset together

- a long drive together

- putting sunscreen on one another

- rain spoils your summer outdoor plans

- bonfire

- catching fireflies

Quotes:

- “it hurts when I _____” “then stop doing that”

- “I wore this purposely because I thought the tan line would drive you crazy.”

- “what do you mean you didn’t pack snacks?”

- “here, you can share with me”

- “aw man, that was the last one”

- “I’ve got something else you can lick”

- “ew, gross. That’s not what I thought would happen today”

- “who thought a place with mosquitoes was a good idea?”

- “yeah. I know” “I didn’t mean I was hot in that way”

- “you know that one’s my favorite”

- “we’re not supposed to be in here” / “not here”

- “why’s it…sticky?”

Kinks:

- praise

- size

- daddy

- equal partnership? That’s my kink.

- breeding

- oooo! hand

- public sex/trying not to get caught

- overstimulation

Tropes:

- friends to lovers

- enemies to lovers

- hurt/comfort

- last summer together before going separate ways🥺

- vacation fling cut short by having to go home

Environments:

- beach

- pool

- lake house

- ice cream shop/stand

- inside in the ac

- a bar

- resort/hotel

- out on the water/ in a boat

Rules/How to Play:

- Character/love interest must be a CE babe/Bucky (no other Seb babes, however you may be able to make a case for boedecker or destroyer Chris)

- No deeply dark themes, including noncon, murder and death, toilet stuff, incest, or anything you think would be too intense for my poor heart. Dubcon, stepcest, and soft!dark are allowable if you just keep it light and find it necessary, but use your discretion please

- Posts should be at least 300 words, with no upper limit! Please us a ‘read more’ past 150

- fics should be stand-alone. If they are part of a series, they should be able to be read alone.

- tag me @bigtreefest and put the tags #essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration and #essie’s 300 follower special so I can reblog you and add your fic to the Masterlist!!

- be inclusive and considerate!!

- make/write as many posts as you’d like!

- this will run from Sunday, July 13 to Wednesday, July 31, 2024. Late entries will be accepted through the end of summer.

- happy writing and thank you for celebrating with me!!

Tagging those who interacted with my post gauging interest, but all are welcome to join!!

@stargazingfangirl18 @krirebr @ronearoundblindly @witchywithwhiskey @thezombieprostitute @darsynia @jesevans @navybrat817 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @universitypenguin @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @delicatebarness @biteofcherry @dreamtinblackandwhite @levans44

#Essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration #Essie’s 300 follower special #CE characters #Seb characters #Chris Evans #Sebastian Stan #300 followers #300 follower challenge #300 follower celebration

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favefandomimagines · 5 months ago

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Illicit Affairs (r.c)

Summary: the cliched life of the poor girl in the love with the rich man

AN: I’ve written a million and one things with this trope but I just can’t help it

The Outer Banks was a paradise of pristine beaches and sprawling mansions on one side, and the other side told a different story—one of weathered cottages and salt-worn lives. Rafe Cameron was born into the former, where the sun set on the horizon, gilding the ocean with hues of gold.

He was a part of a world where money flowed as easily as the waves crashed against the shore. But the allure of that world often felt hollow, especially when he met her.

Her name was Y/N, and she lived on the Cut, the poor side of the island. Rafe was captivated by her in a way he had never experienced before. Their worlds collided in secret—an illicit affair hidden from the prying eyes of both their social circles.

They had been meeting for weeks now, slipping away from their respective lives under the cover of night. The thrill of secrecy fueled their relationship, but it was becoming a bitter pill for Y/N to swallow.

One balmy evening, they met at a secluded spot, the beach where the sound of waves would mask their whispered conversations. The moon hung low, casting a light over the sand as Y/N paced nervously, her heart pounding with the weight of what she needed to say.

“Rafe, we need to talk,” she said, crossing her arms tightly around herself.

He turned, the casual confidence that usually radiated from him now dimmed by her seriousness. “What’s up?”

“I’m tired of this,” she blurted, her voice shaking. “I’m tired of hiding. I can’t keep pretending that this is all okay.”

“What do you mean?” Rafe asked, confused.

“I mean you keep me a secret! When I’m with you, it’s amazing, but in public, it’s like I don’t exist to you,” Y/N said, frustration rising. “Your friends don’t even know I exist. You don’t even tell them about me!”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering in his blue eyes. “Y/N, it’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple!” she snapped, tears threatening to spill over. “Tell me why you can’t just be proud of us.”

“It’s my family, my reputation—”

“Your reputation?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “What about my feelings? Do they not matter? I love you, Rafe. I love you, and I can’t keep living like this. You either choose me, or you keep your reputation. It’s one or the other.”

His heart raced, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. “I… I need time to think.”

Y/N shook her head, her expression a mix of hurt and anger. “I can’t believe this.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing alone in the moonlight, the sound of crashing waves echoing his inner turmoil.

Days passed like an eternity. Rafe’s world felt heavier without Y/N’s laughter. He had spent countless hours contemplating her ultimatum, wrestling with the fear of losing his privileged life against the undeniable truth that he loved her. But pride, insecurity, and the fear of judgment from his friends clouded his mind.

Finally, the weekend arrived, and the gang gathered at The Wreck, the usual spot when you want some authentic seafood. The dim lights and the buzz of laughter filled the air, but Rafe felt more detached than ever. Topper, his best friend, sat beside him, animatedly recounting a story, while the mean girl, Maddie, sat across the table, her eyes frequently darting toward Rafe, clearly hoping for his attention.

“Rafe, you good?” Topper asked, noticing his friend’s distracted demeanor.

“Yeah, just tired,” Rafe replied, forcing a smile.

Across the restaurant, leaning against the take out counter, Y/N was with her friends—JJ, John B, Kie, and Pope. The atmosphere was lively, but she felt like a ghost drifting through it, her thoughts consumed by Rafe. She had fought back tears for days, holding her head high for her friends, but she was emotionally exhausted.

As the night wore on, Rafe’s internal conflict simmered, and his gaze kept drifting to Y/N. He watched her laugh with her friends, the way her eyes sparkled, and he felt something in him shift. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his veins or the undeniable truth that she was the only one who truly understood him.

He stood up abruptly, ignoring the confused glances from Topper and the others. With every step toward Y/N, he felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He had to do this.

“Y/N!” he called out, the urgency in his voice drawing her attention.

She turned, her expression shifting from surprise to something akin to hope and confusion.

“What are you doing, Rafe?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper as he approached her.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, ignoring the wide eyes of her friends and the curious looks from his own.

“Rafe, this isn’t the place—” she started, but he shook his head.

“No, it’s the perfect place. Y/N, I love you. I love you, and I’m done hiding. I’m done letting my stupid reputation dictate my life. I want everyone to know who you are to me.”

Gasps echoed from both tables, and the chatter around them faded into silence.

“Rafe…” Y/N’s eyes widened, disbelief mingling with joy. “You mean that?”

“I do. I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I’m tired of pretending, and I’m tired of hiding what we have. You’re my world, Y/N Y/L/N. You make me happier than I’ve ever been,” he confessed, the words pouring out with raw honesty.

Rafe turned to face their friends, grabbing Y/N’s hand, his voice firm. “This is Y/N. She’s not just some girl. She’s the girl I love, and I don’t care if anyone thinks she’s just a Pogue from the Cut. I’m proud to be with her.”

The shock hung in the air for a moment, and then Rafe saw the corners of Y/N’s mouth turn up into a smile, her eyes sparkling.

“Rafe, you really mean it?” she asked, stepping closer, the distance between them evaporating.

“More than anything. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I was scared, but you deserve so much more than the way I’ve treated you. I want to be with you, out in the open.”

The tension in the room dissipated, and Y/N felt a warmth flood through her, washing away the pain of the past days. “I love you too, Rafe. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Cheers erupted from her friends, and even a few of Rafe’s, though Topper was still processing what had just happened.

Maddie’s face fell as she watched Rafe and Y/N, a mix of jealousy and disbelief crossing her features. Rafe didn’t care. All he saw was Y/N—the girl he loved, standing before him.

“Can we get a round for the happy couple?” JJ shouted, and the room filled with laughter and clinking glasses.

Rafe wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close. “I’m sorry I made you feel less than what you are. You mean everything to me.”

As they stood together, a warmth enveloping them amidst the crowd, Rafe realized that the fear of judgment was nothing compared to the love they shared. The world around them blurred, leaving just the two of them—an unexpected pair, now boldly declaring their love for each other.

In that moment, Rafe knew they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, together. The waves crashed against the shore, a distant echo of their new beginning.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey

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deedeeznoots · 9 months ago

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Let’s Go to Malaysia, Yeah?

➺ Characters: Nanami Kento, Fem!Reader

➺ Word count: 2.7k

➺ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

➺ Content: It’s smut so MDNI!! Specifically: Slight voyeurism (there’s no people around but you’re both outside), Oral (reader receiving), PiV, Creampie, Use of the word “wife” a lot, angst at the end because I don’t believe in happiness

➺ A/N: I thought about this on a random Thursday night at 1 AM and couldn’t rest until I wrote it into existence.

➺ Synopsis: You and your husband Kento Nanami go on a beach trip in Malaysia and have some fun in more ways than one~

The sound of chirping birds and ocean waves wake you up from your slumber. Still groggy, you instinctively reach for Nanami, but the bed comes out empty. Rubbing your eyes, your vision lands on the open windows, the sun slightly blinding you from the view. Though it would be nearly impossible to miss completely, the bright yellow sand standing in contrast to the deep blue ocean was a sight to see. Turns out, renting a small house by the beach in Malaysia was an amazing idea, something your husband came up with. Speaking of…where was he?

Hearing some commotion from outside the bedroom, you put on your robe and leave to follow the source. There, you find your beautiful husband making breakfast in the kitchen. Shirtless, the morning sun reflects off his back as he cuts up fruit. God he looked good, you thought.

Moving quietly, you swiftly hugged him from behind. He jumps up a little in shock before going “Good morning, darling”.

You giggle at his reaction and simply go “Hi Kento...” and leave small kisses on his back as he continues cutting fruit. Eventually, he drops the knife and turns around, looking you straight in the eyes.

“…yes?” You question jokingly. He doesn’t say anything, only giving you a small kiss on your lips. You had other plans though, and grabbed a hold at the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Nanami groans in response, but doesn’t protest, lifting you up and placing you on top of the counter. As he slowly grinds himself between your legs, you joke “it’s so early…”. Your husband simply laughs and says “it’s never too early for my wife…”. As your tongues continue to intertwine, you begin to remove his pants when—

Ding

The toaster. The sound snaps Nanami out of what he was doing and he begins to remember his original plans for the kitchen. Lifting you up again, this time to help bring you back down to the floor, he tells you “Let’s not waste breakfast” with a laugh.

Somewhat disappointed, you comply anyway as you were a little hungry and Nanami did work hard to prepare it for you two. Sitting on the table, Nanami puts down a plate of toast and syrup with a side of fruit. You weren’t sure if it was because it was made by someone you loved, but it was possibly the most delicious meal you ever had. The bread was perfectly toasted, with the syrup acting in perfect juxtaposition to the crunchy exterior of the toast. The fruit was no joke either, perfectly cut into symmetrical shapes and acting as the perfect side to your meal. God, it was amazing. Your husband was amazing.

“…Baby are you listening?” Nanami’s voice snaps you out of your daydreams. “Huh…?” You ask, staring at him blankly. Shaking your head, you go “Oh… I’m sorry honey haha I was too focused on this amazing breakfast”, your voice slightly muffled from the food in your mouth. Your husband just laughs and goes “I was just asking if you wanted me to bring anything while we go on our walk”.

“Oh! Let’s bring the chairs so we can watch the ocean for a bit” you say, excited. Nanami nods and you two continue making small talk over breakfast regarding your plans for the day, enjoying each other’s presence along with the beach view through the large window in the living room.

“Man, that was a good breakfast! Thank you so much for that… you’re getting really good at making bread by the way” you say as the both of you walk around the beach. “Thank you, anything for my wife” Nanami chuckles, of course. Your husband always told you he’d give you the world, and you believe him. Why wouldn’t you? He shows you every day, and this day was certainly no exception.

The sand is hot against your feet as you and your partner find a place to set your chairs. Looking around, you point to an empty spot close to the ocean “what about there?” you ask. Nanami just nods and takes your hand to walk you both to the spot. You set both your chairs down as Nanami puts up the umbrella for both of you. He also offers to help you put on your sunscreen.

“Sure! Let me just go get it” you respond.

It started out innocent enough. You feel the slight cool of the sunscreen as your husband rubs the cream onto your skin. He started with your arms, being oh so diligent to make sure your skin was fully protected. He started again with your back, once again not missing a single spot. Once he got to your shoulders, however… that was a different story. Something about it felt more…sensual, and both of you felt the change in mood.

While rubbing the sunscreen on your shoulders, Nanami decided to begin kissing your neck. The warm kisses sent a cold shiver down your spine and you jumped up. “H-h-hey! What are you doing?” you ask, shocked. Your dutiful husband simply hums into your neck and continues kissing your most sensitive spots. Once the initial shock smoothed over, you got more into it. Leaning into his soft kisses and letting out soft moans as he continuously abused your neck. Not too much though, you were in public after all.

Well…kind of. See, one of the main draws of picking this specific spot to go to was because of how far it was from the public area. There was likely no people for miles, making it the perfect spot for you and your introverted lover to do all kinds of fun (in lots of different ways, of course). Still, anyone could theoretically walk to this side of the beach with no issue, but why would they? There was clearly nothing to see here.

Except I guess…a man in between his wife’s legs eating her out like she’s his last meal. “K-Kento! We’re in public!” you yelp out in between (now much louder) moans. “Shhh… it’s okay” he shushes, the vibrations of which are felt on your pussy, causing you to moan louder. “N-ngh, God— don’t stop!” you moan out, which simply makes your lover laugh. Pulling away, with only a string of his saliva working to connect the two of you, he goes “Careful honey, we are in public, remember?”. Frustrated, you grab him by his hair and lightly push him back between your legs. You were careful not to actually hurt him, of course, and you thankfully didn’t receive any complaints from him, as he simply goes back to looking up at you while sucking on your clit, at the corner of your eye, you can see the sunscreen, now carelessly tossed to the side.

Right. This started with sunscreen. What happened with that?

Right… after finishing lathering your shoulders he began getting to work on your legs. You were still lightheaded from having his lips on your neck, so you didn’t pay much attention while he continued rubbing the lotion on you. At one point though, he suddenly stopped. Confused, you’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he hushes you with a soft kiss. You comply, and are so zoned out that you don’t even notice Nanami beginning to remove the bottom half of the bathing suit you put on. “…May I?” he asks for your permission with his soft voice. Unable to deny him in the state you’re in, you nod. From there, he began kissing down your body. From your shoulders, to your breasts, to your stomach until finally, he made it there.

Which leads you back to the predicament you’re in now: where you’re a moaning mess as your husband makes out with your pussy. Like always, Nanami is diligent. Making sure to catch all your sweet spots and to pay extra mind to your clit. He worked slowly, but don’t worry, he was definitely getting the job done. “P-p-please…I’m close, I’m so close please Kento please”, you spit out through incoherent moans. Nanami doesn’t say anything, he simply flattens his tongue against your clit as your orgasm continues to build up. When you finally get there after a few seconds of riding Nanami’s tongue, you’re only able to see white for a while. Breathing heavily, your legs begin to tremble as you zone out, staring wide-eyed into space.

Nanami is seemingly unfazed, however, as he simply pulls your swimsuit back up and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips, allowing you to taste a bit of yourself. He holds your hand tight and says “Let’s rest for a bit and then let’s go swim, ok?” He smiles innocently, as if he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life just a minute before. Slowly snapping back into reality, you kiss your husband’s hand and go “o-ok…”, still out of breath from what just occurred. Nanami let you take your time to cool down, showering you in affirmations of how beautiful you were and how he was sorry but simply couldn’t resist you.

Eventually, you’re able to calm down enough to make your way to the ocean. Your legs still wobbly, you’re the perfect target for splashing. The cold water hitting your skin as your lover cruelly splashes water on you “Kentoooo…stop it! Haha!” You laugh as you splash him back, getting his hair wet. Getting serious for a second, he simply mutters “You’ll pay for that, darling”, before swiftly picking you up and spinning you around. Letting out a goofy scream, you go “Baby wait— you’re gonna drop me! Haha!”. To your surprise, he actually does drop you in the water. You were fine with this, as this gave you leverage to grab onto his leg and pull him down with you. Letting out a yelp, he lets out a hearty laugh as he falls into the water with a splash. “I win! Jerk!” you say in between laughs.

Though, he simply goes quiet and looks deep in your eyes. He lightly grabs your face and gives you a deep kiss. Pulling away, he whispers a soft “I love you”. Flushed, you’re about to say you love him back when you feel another cold splash against your face right and your husband’s laughter “…but you’re so cute when you’re mad!” He exclaims, standing up. “Hey! No fair! We were supposed to have a sweet moment!” You yell out as you climb up his back, forcing him to give you a piggyback ride. One he complies to, of course.

After having your fun, the both of you dry yourselves off outside before going back to your small vacation home. “I’m going to catch up on some reading darling, there’s some books I really need to finish”, Nanami tells you as he starts to enter the room. “Alright, I’m just gonna take a shower and then I’ll join you” you respond. He nods as he closes the door behind him. You had other plans, of course.

You were going to join him.

Though…it wasn’t going to be for reading. You still had to pay him back for his stunt at the beach, after all…

After your short shower, you enter the shared bedroom of you and Nanami. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that you were wearing nothing but a towel.

“Darling…” your husband looks up, taking off his glasses. “Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” He asks, but you could feel it in his voice, he was getting riled up. You got him right where you wanted him.

“Hmmm…I don’t know darling,” you say, teasing him “I think I like things exactly like this”, as you finish your sentence, you drop your towel, showing off your naked body to Nanami. You climb on top of him and sit on his lap. He was hard. Why wouldn’t he be? His gorgeous wife was sitting naked on top of him. He simply smiled as you brought your face closer to his, your lips nearly touching. “While I appreciate the sentiment darling…” Nanami grabs your wrists as he flips you over on the bed “…it seems you forgot who’s in charge here”. He now stood on top of you, his large frame hovering above you as he brought himself closer to kiss you. Finally, your lips touch and the both of you get to work removing all of Nanami’s pesky clothes. You were thankfully already taken care of, so things were much easier.

Finally fully naked, Nanami lines himself up against you “I’m sorry baby…” he starts, “I know we usually do foreplay first but I need to be inside of you right now”. His dick is in perfect alignment with your pussy, where even through the smallest movement by you, you could have him inside. You’re just as desperate for him as he is for you, so you just nod and go “it’s okay… I’m already wet enough for you, see?” you say as you dip your fingers into your pussy before pulling out, showing Nanami proof of your arousal. He simply exhales a sigh of relief as he begins to enter you. Starting slowly, as to not hurt you, he starts with shallow thrusts until he’s all the way in.

Finally inside, he picks up the pace, looking you in the eyes the whole time. “God— you’re gorgeous you know?” he says in between thrusts, though you’re too fucked out on his cock to be able to pay much attention. You simply moan as you’re forced to take his dick over and over again. This makes him stop, and he looks at you. Before you can ask him why, he goes “Say it, darling”. “Say wha—“ you are cut off, “Say you’re gorgeous”.

“That—that’s so embarrassing Kento…” you reply. It did make you feel a bit shy to say affirmations with a dick inside of you, but Nanami didn’t budge, he simply kept looking at you until you said the words. “Okay…I’m gorgeous, the only one for you” you smile, it did feel good to say, but Nanami’s thick cock thrusting in and out of you right after you said it probably helped in that regard.

You began to feel the pit in your stomach grow, and you knew exactly what it meant “K…Kento… I’m gonna cum…” you moan out. Nanami softly kisses your wrists in response and says “yeah…me too darling, let’s finish together, yeah?”.

You both do just that, moans and grunts filling the room as you both reach your high. “I love you baby… I love you so much” Nanami moans out as he kisses you through your orgasms.

After you’ve both calmed down, Nanami pulls out and lays next to you. “Come here, darling~” he coos, pulling you towards him for cuddles. “I meant it you know, when I said you were gorgeous…you should say it to yourself more often” he whispers in your ear. You simply smile and give him a kiss on the cheek “Yeah…I’ll make sure to try. I love you baby…” your eyes meet his, and it’s almost like you can see the whole world through only his eyes. He gives you a deep kiss and as he caresses you to sleep he goes “I love you too, my beautiful wife”.

You groggily wake up to the walls of your room, a very different sight to the vacation home you were just in. It’s dark, with no windows open, and if you opened them, you likely wouldn’t be greeted to the soft waves of the ocean. What just happened? You think. Was I dreaming?

You instinctively reach for your husband’s side of the bed. It’s empty, of course. Still groggy and with possibly the worst headache of your life, you get up and make your way to the kitchen.

You make your own breakfast. A sad combination of stale cereal and milk.

It’s the reality of course, but one you’re still unable to accept. In this reality, there is no beach view, there is no cold ocean to splash in, there are no birds to wake you up, and most importantly there is no Nanami.

What is there though…are two tickets to Malaysia. Looking at them, the dates stand there bold, almost as if to mock you… spelling out the day you’ll forever hate the most.

NOV. 1ST, 2018

Yeah…that’s right.

You two were never able to make it to that trip, were you?

A/N: Like Nanami? He’s also mentioned in this fic!

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elasticbeach · 8 months ago

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Please tell me you are writing a part 3 to the breaking up with Shanks and it ends with a fluffy happy family

Part 3/ Breaking up with Shanks but realizing you still have feelings for him

Yall I didn’t even realise that I haven’t posted this 💀 this has been sitting in my drafts for waay too long, anyways thank you all for all the positive feedback, I feel like this part is written better than the first two. Anyways enjoy reading!

Warnings: None

Part 1/Part 2/ Part 3

You were standing in the kitchen while your little girl was having her usual afternoon nap, you were baking muffins just because, everyone loves muffins right? Actually your nerves were driving you crazy with every passing second and baking seemed to ease your nerves a little. Your mind raced with questions. Will there be a knock on your door? Or will the door be smashed entirely? Will he take your baby away from you? Will he even show up? Did he get scared and just decided to dump you entirely? Too many questions plagued your mind and while you stared outside the window deep in thought a knock brought you back to reality. Your head snapped at the sound of gentle knocks and your heart started racing. Slow steps getting you to the door, standing in front of it you were pretty sure your heart would explode as your heartbeat hammered loudly in your ears. Slowly you opened the door just to reveal the old lady next door. At this point this whole situation slowly started driving you mad. You had never experienced paranoia like this and had no idea how to deal with anxiety like that. After the lady left, you went to check on your daughter. She was peacefully sleeping in her crib, kneeling down next to her you brushed a few of her red locks out of her face. She really went after him, huh? you thought. Life still did not feel real, even when your daughter was born. you still felt like that young girl who just wanted some love and adventure. tears formed at the corners of your eyes, you miss him so much, it hurts.

A few days later you were laying on the beach trying to enjoy some sun while your daughter slept under the small tent you put up. Your mind did clear a bit at the ocean breeze and the warm sun tanning your skin. You almost fell asleep yourself, till you heard it "PIRATES!!" someone screamed in panic. You quickly sat up and looked at the horizont, that’s when you saw it, his ship. The ship you spent years on, before settling down. You quickly put a robe over your body and grabbed your daughter, you didnt even bother standing uo or trying to flee. Just pressing her against you and closing your eyes, anticipating the worst. A few minutes passed, you were too afraid to open your eyes. You heard steps approaching and thats when you opened your eyes. "Long time no see, ____" you sighed to embarrassed to even look his way. You heard him coming closer. "Please dont take her from me.." you whispered in a weak voice. You heard him sit down next to you. "I would never." he said in a serious tone and thats when you finally looked at him. His face carried a frown while his eyes showed sadness. He was hurt you could tell, tears formed once again. "Im so sorry..I really am." You said and sobbed. “Shh” He immediately started calming you down while rubbing your shoulder. You sobbed again before sniffing and calming your nerves a little, you looked at Shanks again. “You’re still just as beautiful.” He said with that smile of his, no mischief or lie in his eyes. It was the first thing he decided to say, nothing about the daughter and not how mad or disappointed he is but this. He called you beautiful, making you tear up again. He chuckled “Stop crying, you always make that funny face when you cry.” That made you chuckle a bit making you sniff and carefully hand him his daughter. Without a word he took the little girl looking at her little face. The little girl was inspecting her father for a few seconds before crying and wiggling, scared of the unfamiliar man. “I’m sorry, should’ve called earlier.” You started as he handed you your daughter with a light smile, as you started rocking the infant you continued to speak “ I was just so scared, I didn’t think it was necessary. No, that’s wrong..I was sceptical if you would even care you know? And it was just nerve wracking, because what if you took her from me??” You started sobbing troughout half of your monologue. “Calm down now you two crybabies.” He interrupted you with a smirk. “How come the two most important women of my life are crying because of me?” He chuckled a bit, again loosening the atmosphere again. “I’m sorry” You repeated, sobbing and wiping your tears with your shoulder, still having your daughter in your arms. Her crying stopped by now and she was inspecting Shanks from a distance now. “It’s okay.” Shanks says smiling at his daughter and then at you. “Must’ve been scary going trough all of this alone?” Shanks asks and you nod. You two spend up to three hours talking about casual stuff, him telling you about the adventures you missed. You telling him everything he missed of his daughters life and said daughter warming up to her daddy enjoying his company.

“I’ll walk you to your home.” Shanks said as you started packing. You didn’t even try to protest, because you know you want him to. You want his affection and attention, want him to stay. Forever. “Thanks” You flash him a smile before laying your daughter in her crib and the two of you start walking. And this image of the two of you, it brings you peace. It feels so normal, so natural. You probably look like a normal family walking back from the beach, everything feels so right, if only it had been like that since the first day. Your thoughts are interrupted by his voice. “So how are we handeling this whole situation?” You shrug, really not having a clue how to answer “I’m definitely not taking the two of you onto the ship, that’s way too dangerous. Just stay here, I will visit from time to time. You should call me more often, I want to hear more about your life. Maybe we aren’t lovers anymore, but we should at least keep in touch, we do have a kid together.” He chuckles after the statement, most definitely hiding how he actually feels, you know him too well to not notice. “Yeah, sounds good.” You reply, because you know that it’s over for the two of you. Even if he still loves you how could he possibly still want to be with you, a liar and coward that doesn’t even know what she wants.

Back home you bathe your daughter together and then you rock her asleep. As you slowly close the door to the nursery and walk to the kitchen he’s already waiting at the door. “Well, I think I will get going for now let’s meet tomorrow again, with the crew as well.” He rubs his neck as he speaks “I thought you were staying dor dinner” your voice getting more quiet troughout your statement. “I can stay??” He seems surprised and happily sits down at the dinnig table. You smile a bit and start preparing something small for the two of you. Dinner is nice, you talk a bit here and there but it’s mostly quiet, not an awkward quiet more of a enjoying each other’s company quiet. You would look up a few times, looking at his strong hands as he cuts the meat or how he licks his lips after each bite. You would lie if you said you didn’t miss the way his hands touched you or the way his lips kissed you and licked-. You stopped yourself right there, these times were long gone. You shoud just stop thinking about him in this way, he’s just the father of your daughter, you ex-boyfriend that YOU broke up with. “You alright?” You look up a bit confused. “You haven’t touched the food in like a minute just staring at it.” He looks at you just as confused. “I was just lost in thought, sorry.” You crack a smile and keep eating. You two finish eating in silence and he helps you clean up after.

“Well, see you tomorrow then?” He says as he steps over the door step. “Yeah.” You look up at him. You two look in each others eyes, seeing the desire, the love for each other. He leans down and presses a quick kiss on your cheeck. “Goodnight” He smiles. “Goodnight.” You smile back and close the door, you lean against the closed door and slide it down smiling like a fool.

The next morning you woke up a bit late. Your daughter was crying all night so you didn’t get all that much sleep. Rubbing your face with cold water you hear a knock. Drying your face and walking over to the door you slowly open expecting Shanks. As he looks upon your figure he immediately notices your tired appearance, while you still wear your Pjs. “You alright?” He asks as he steps inside. “Do I look that bad?” You chuckle a bit closing the door behind him. “No, not really. Just a bit..worn out.” The two of you chuckle. You lead Shanks to his daughter that is still asleep in your bed, since she refused to sleep away from you. “Look at her, didn’t let you sleep all night and now she’s snoozing away.” You smile at his statement, seeing how lovingly he looks at his daughter. “I wish I would’ve seen more of her and you..pregnant.” He looks over at you. You two share neutral expressions as you look at each other, both of you unsure how to handle the situation. You look down at the floor and sigh. “Look, I’m really sorry about everything-“ “Don’t, I understand.” He interrupts you. “No, please let me finish. Just listen to me please.” You sigh again and start talking. “I did NOT know of my pregnancy when I left and that wasn’t the reason I left. I just always dreamed of domestic life, but I also always knew that with you it would be impossible. But I don’t know what’s gotten into me when I left I was I don’t know..” You take a short pause to swallow the lump in your throat. “Maybe it were the pregnancy hormones or whatever but I need you to know that. I still love you and never stopped, I thought it was the better thing for me to leave and try to forget you but how could I? You are the love of my life Shanks. I don’t know if you could ever forgive me for taking your daughter from you, but I just need you to know that I love you. I never stopped loving you.” Tears stain your cheeks by the time you are finished and when you sob and look up you see him standing in front of you. The two of you fall into a long embrace. Hugging each other, with you just crying into his shirt. “Now calm down, I never stopped loving you either.” The two of you keep on hugging. He then pushes you away a bit just to capture your lips in a long kiss. You never felt so much joy in your life as his lips touched yours, everything else didn’t seem important anymore and you just forgot about those months of separation in this moment. You two parted for air and looked into each others eyes when suddenly a crying noise from your daughter captures your attention. “I will take care of her in the living room, get some sleep.” He smiled and wiped some of your tears. “I love you Shanks.” “I love you too.”

Repost are appreciated <3

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #shanks #shanks x reader #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks x you #shanks x you #red haired shanks x reader #op shanks #red haired shanks #shanks one piece #x reader #x y/n #one piece fluff

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greymoonfeelings · 2 years ago

Text

The Best Day

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Fem! reader

Summary: Bradley’s past year has been spent creating lasting memories with you, but tonight is about to be his favorite.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: pregnancy, cheesy ass love, mentions of angsty situations

This is for the @tgm-all4one challenge! The prompt “Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time” is very fitting as I’m still thirsting over these pilots a year later. Happy anniversary TG:M!

•••

Last summer was one of the best Bradley had experienced in a long time and things had only gotten better. A year later, he’s still feeling the effects of that summer, the endless happiness that it had brought into his life. Not only had he made up with his Mav and made a new family with the permanently stationed Dagger Squad, but the girl he met within the first week in San Diego was about to be his wife.

The first time you and Bradley met, you had been enjoying a rare day off at the beach. The sun was shining bright and the cool temperature of the ocean was a welcomed change to the heat of your stuffy office. You had been getting out of the water after enjoying a nice swim. You thought you were far enough from the group of people playing football in the sand, but you weren’t. As you wiped sand off your torso, something collided with you. You hit the sand hard, but before you could curse out whoever slammed into you, you were met with an outrageously attractive sight. The man profusely apologized, asking how he could make it up to you. The offer of a night of free drinks was enough for you and the events of that night had led you to this moment right here.

“Are you sure about this, Bradley?”

The two of you stand in each other's arms in your shared bedroom. You’re wrapped in a pink fluffy robe and Bradley is still dressed in his sweatpants and ratty old UVA shirt even though it’s nearing 4 pm.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Bradley assures you with a light kiss on your temple, careful not to press too hard on your makeup which you had just spent the better half of an hour perfecting.

“You’re not just doing this because you feel obligated?” You drop your gaze to your growing stomach, suddenly feeling very unsure of yourself. You need Bradley to want to marry you because he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, not just because you’re carrying his child.

Bradley tilts your chin with two fingers bringing your eyes back to him. There’s nothing but adoration swimming in his brown eyes. “The only reason I didn’t drop down on one knee earlier was because I thought two weeks of knowing each other was too soon.”

“Two weeks?” You ask incredulously.

“See, you agree, it would’ve been crazy. But I wanted it, honey. I am not just marrying you because you’re carrying my child, but I took it as a sign.” His large hand joins yours in covering your small bump. “That’s my baby boy in there and I want nothing more than to marry his mommy.”

“Save the sweet talk for your vows, mister.”

“Oh, just wait. I’ll have the whole backyard in tears.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chide playfully. You fully believe in Bradley’s ability to turn all your guests to mush. For all his playfulness, Bradley Bradshaw is an extremely emotional man and he always knows the perfect words to put you in your feels (not that it’s hard nowadays with your hormones all over the place.) “Get outta here so I can put on my dress. It’s bad luck to see me in it before the altar.”

“Now you’re superstitious? You know it’s also bad luck to see you the day of.”

“I’m not superstitious, but I am a little ‘stitious, so leave.” You shove Bradley towards the bedroom door as he busts out laughing at your response. When you finally get him out of the room, you shut the door and fall against it with a big smile. Hearing that laugh for the rest of your life is going to make you the happiest woman alive.

You spend the next hour getting into your dress and putting the final touches on your look. It's easy to relax knowing that Penny and Mav have everything under control with the guests and backyard set up. Bradley had put your last-minute fears to rest and now the butterflies in your stomach are from pure excitement. Tonight is about to be the best and easiest night of your life.

———

The opening notes of the Bridal March cut through the cooling summer air in your backyard. You take a deep breath and smooth down the fabric of your dress before moving forward. You begin your journey down the path of bright green grass that’s surrounded by white folding chairs on both sides, making your way toward the makeshift altar.

All your closest friends and your parents stand from their seats and watch you with big smiles. Your eyes scan over each of their faces as you walk past. You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek as you bask in the love that is palpable in the air. To think, a year ago, you had felt so alone in a new city and now you were surrounded by people you called your family.

Your eyes finally land on your fiancé who stands beside his uncle under a wooden arch decorated with yellow flowers. Bradley watches intently as you travel towards him, looking like a princess in your wedding gown. He immediately tears up at the sight of you illuminated by the canopy of fairy lights strung across the trees.

His chest feels tight from how much love he’s experiencing. Never in a million years did he think he would ever be this happy, not after everything that had happened in his life. You were like a breath of fresh air and the moment he met you, he knew things would never be the same.

You finally come to your spot in front of him and Bradley wants to kiss you right then, but he knows that’s against the rules. Instead, he takes your soft hands in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“You look so beautiful.”

“You clean up nice yourself.” You beam up at Bradley with the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen and he can’t help the wide grin that splits his face. He's never felt this giddy in his life.

Maverick clears his throat before beginning. “Today is a celebration. A celebration of love, commitment, friendship, family, and of two people who are in it for forever. I’ve never been good with words, so I will try to keep this short and sweet. Some people believe that love is determined by fate. They believe that love is a cosmic thing, set by the universe and written in the stars. I’ve always been a skeptic, but Carole Bradshaw believed in it. She believed that she and Goose were meant to be. She would’ve believed the same about you two.

The type of love that I witnessed between Goose and Carole was one that I never thought I’d see again, but I see it here, between the two of you. The love between you is genuine. It’s shown through everything you do for one another, and how you treat each other in good times and bad. You help each other grow and become better people. You encourage each other with patience and kindness. There is no doubt in my mind that your love will last for many years to come. May your lives together be long and filled with many happy memories.”

By the time Maverick is finished, you’re a mess. At the mention of your departed in-laws, you immediately started crying. You loved them so much and you never even met them. You knew just from hearing about them how much they loved each other and knowing that their best friend sees that same love between you and Bradley warms your heart.

Bradley sheds his own tears from thinking about his parents and how they can’t be here in person, but instead of wiping his tears, he dries yours. He never wants to see you cry even if he knows these aren’t bad tears.

“Now, do you, Bradley Bradshaw, take this beautiful woman as your wife? Do you promise to love her unconditionally, offer her your love, support, trust, and respect as you build your future together?”

“I do.”

Maverick turns to you. “Do you take this man as your husband? Do you promise to love him unconditionally, offer him your love, support, trust, and respect as you build your future together?”

“I do,” You promise and the genuine love in your eyes tightens Bradley’s chest.

“You may now exchange your vows.”

“Can I go first? Because I have a feeling after yours, I’ll have too much snot running down my face to speak properly.” You speak, barely above a whisper so only Bradley and Mav, by proximity, can hear. Your question elicits a watery chuckle from Bradley as he nods for you to begin.

“For as long as I can remember, I have waited for my prince charming. From falling for fictional characters to terrible teenage lovers, I eventually came to terms with the idea that the love I wanted didn’t exist. I tried to make peace with the fact that I was likely going to end up all by myself. It was the main reason why I threw myself into work and consequently took the job that brought me to San Diego. The day I first met you, when you knocked into me at the beach, I thought, ‘I am going to castrate this man…’”

Everyone laughs, including Bradley. Your reaction was on par with what they all knew about you.

“But then I looked up and saw a hunky god-like man looking down at me, apologizing and I decided that it would be cruel to deprive the world of your ability to have kids. Now, one year later, I’m the lucky girl who will be gracing this planet with the cutest babies ever.” Your hand finds your stomach as everyone laughs again.

“Bradley, you are so much more than I could have ever dreamed for. You love me in a way I never thought I would experience. You love me on my darkest days when I can’t bring myself to eat and have day-old mascara running down my cheeks. You love me when I obnoxiously belt out old pop songs on the freeway and when I hog all the blankets. You love me so much that you get up at 2 am to get me convenience store pickles because I woke up craving them. I spent so long thinking I was hard to love, but you never make me feel that way. You’re patient and kind. You take everything I throw at you in stride. I love you more than words can express, but I hope I did a good job.”

As you finish, Bradley’s calloused thumb graces your cheek to wipe away tears you didn’t realize had fallen. His eyes are glossy too and a few stray tears make their way down his face.

“That’s gonna be a tough act to follow.” His voice comes out thin, evidence of his emotional state. He then clears his throat before he begins his vows.

“I spent most of my adult life alone. After losing all my loved ones, I was hurt and angry at the world. I never let anyone new get too close because I was afraid I would lose them too. I always seemed like the most popular guy in the room, serenading the whole bar, cracking jokes, and acting like everyone was my best friend, but I would return to my empty room at the barracks feeling like the loneliest guy in the world. When I got called back to Top Gun, I thought it would be another lonely experience, but then I met you that fateful day at the beach and everything changed. I never believed in love at first sight in fact, I never believed that I would find love ever. I knew it existed, I saw the love my mother had for my father even after he was gone, but I didn’t think it was in the cards for me. The minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were my forever. You made me yearn for a future I never even realized I could have. I felt terrible for body slamming some poor girl, but I felt ten times worse when I saw it was my future wife…”

“You’re laying it on real thick,” you joke even though his speech is causing you to cry like a baby.

“You doubt me, but you’re standing here with me, and I’m about to put a ring on it.” Bradley smiles back before continuing. “I knew that if I wanted to have a shot with you, I would need to tear down the walls I had spent so many years hiding behind. The idea of opening up to you was terrifying, but you made me want to do it so badly. I wanted to get to know you and I wanted you to know me too. You remained by my side, waiting patiently and encouraging me as I slowly learned how to open myself up again. You never pushed me or made me feel like my grief was a burden. You never made me feel bad about battling old ghosts, you even helped me conquer them.

I love you more than I thought a human being was capable of. When I’m without you, I feel lost. You’ve become the best part of my day. You let me lean on you when I’m having a rough time. You never judge my feelings and you always make sure I feel loved even when I don’t feel I deserve it. You make me stronger and happier. I never knew what living meant until I met you. All those years I spent floating through life and feeling bad have disappeared. I never want to know what it’s like to live without you now that I have you. I love you and our baby boy so much. I can’t wait to build this life with you.

“God, I fucking love you.” You cry softly and Bradley squeezes your hands that have been enveloped in his the entire time.

“It's time to exchange your rings.” Maverick prompts and Jake rises from his front-row seat with the tiny silk pillow that holds two silver bands. You each take the respective bands meant for the other.

Bradley holds your left hand delicately in his and as he slips the silver wedding band on your ring finger, he speaks. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my everlasting love for you. It's a promise that I will always love you no matter what separates us be it land, sea, or sky.” Once the ring is sitting snug on your finger he presses his lips to it.

You repeat the step with Bradley’s hand, bringing the band up to his finger and pronouncing, “With this ring, you will have a reminder close by that you are always in my heart. I love you and I am yours today and forever.”

“I know the two of you have been eager to get to this part, so we won’t make you wait any longer. It's my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. Bradley, you may now kiss your bride.”

“Thank god!” One of Bradley’s arms snakes around your waist while his free hand comes to caress your cheek. He kisses you with such force it would send you stumbling if it weren’t for his arm steadying you. You throw your hands around his neck, pulling his body flush against yours and kiss him back with just as much passion, cementing your love for your now husband.

You never want to pull away, but you do for the sake of getting enough air to keep you standing upright. Bradley’s lips brush against yours softly as he whispers. “I love you so much.”

Your hands find each other as you turn to face the crowd. A loud round of applause breaks out as you throw your clasped hands in the air as a symbol of unity. The two of you had been going around as a united team for a while now, but this solidifies it.

———

Your first dance with Bradley to The One by Elton John is straight out of a movie. The fairy lights twinkling above you illuminate Bradley’s soft brown eyes which capture yours in a loving gaze. A soft smile has found a permanent place on his face this evening and you have a matching one. The two of you waltz around the dance floor with your arms wrapped around his middle and his holding you tight around your waist.

When the chorus begins, Bradley gently brings your head to rest against his chest. Your ear presses against the soft fabric of his shirt just above his heart. The sound of his steady heartbeat mixes with the very fitting lyrics. Despite all the eyes on you, it still manages to feel like you and he are the only two people in the world as you dance together.

“When stars collide like you and I, no shadows block the sun. You're all I've ever needed. Oh, baby, you're the one.” Bradley sings just loud enough for you to hear and then presses a kiss to the top of your head, letting you know that the words are specifically for you. And they encapsulate your feelings just as well because Bradley is the only one you ever needed, him and now your baby boy.

As the song ends, you pull Bradley down for a lingering kiss, holding onto the collar of his shirt even as the music changes to a more fast pace song. Bradley hums happily against your lips and when he pulls away, he has a giddy smile on his face.

The rest of the night is spent dancing with your loved ones around the backyard. Laughter and off-key singing fills the air as people let loose. It’s no secret that the squad is one of the rowdiest bunches around and this night is a perfect opportunity to have some unforgettable fun. Food is devoured, bets are made on how long it will take Bob to bust out the old sprinkler dance move and shots are taken each time Bradley gets caught staring at you.

When it comes time to cut the cake, everyone watches intently as your hand covers Bradley’s and the two of you cut out the first slice together. You each take a fork full and feed it to the other, resulting in another round of applause from your guests. While Bradley is distracted savoring the spongy cake, you take the opportunity to gather frosting on your fingers and smear it across his face, making sure to get it into his mustache. Before he can do the same to you, you take his face in your hands and like a long stripe across the coarse hairs.

“Mmm,” you hum smugly.

“There are children here!” Bradley gasps, scandalized as if the action hadn’t turned him on a little bit. You cackle in response, but your amusement is cut short when Bradley scoops up a dollop of frosting and spreads it across your face. He licks the light purple frosting off your cheek before kissing you hard.

———

After giving a riveting performance of Baby One More Time at the request of Phoenix, you step away and take a moment to catch your breath. You watch from afar as your friends continue to have the time of their lives.

Jake and Coyote are taking I Wanna Dance With Somebody way too seriously, serenading Fanboy and Bradley who are singing back at them equally as loud. Payback twirls his wife around. Bob seems to have overindulged in the beer, an unusual occurrence because he’s all too confident he can hit the high notes of the song as he jumps around with Phoenix.

It’s impossible to stop the giggles coming from you as you watch the scene unfold. These big, strong, badass fighter pilots look silly dancing around with absolutely zero inhibitions. These idiots are your family and you couldn’t love them anymore. They are exactly the type of people you always wanted in your life. You stand for a few moments longer, simply soaking it all up.

Fanboy, the “DJ” of the night, announces through the speakers that there will be one last song, a slow one for all the couples. You almost can’t believe the night is already over. You feel like you could spend forever stuck in this moment. The joy, fun, love, it’s all so amazing. This night is only the beginning of the rest of your life with Bradley, but it’s been the best night ever.

At Last by Etta James plays. It’s one of Bradley’s favorite songs to dance with you to. You’ve spent many nights together swaying in a dimly lit kitchen while the record plays. You make your way back to the dance floor where you find your husband waiting for you with an outstretched hand.

Bradley’s arms find themselves wrapped around your waist again. There’s a slight chill in the air from the midnight summer wind, but being close to Bradley keeps you warm. Other couples join you on the makeshift dance floor. Your parents along with Mav and Penny. Payback and his wife join. Phoenix drags Jake to dance with her and even with all the alcohol he’s consumed he’s still coordinated enough to dance the way his mama taught him.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper into the air between you and Bradley.

“Me too,” he whispers back as he lets his forehead fall against yours. “I love you.” One hand falls to your belly. The warmth from his large hand radiates through the fabric of your dress.

You press your lips against his softly. “You don’t have to keep saying it. I believe you.”

“I’m going to say it every minute until the day I die. I’ll shout it from the sky. I’m going to make sure the whole world knows.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you shake your head playfully.

“And you still married me.”

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

“That plane took off hours ago.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I love you too.”

“Yes, it is. The best thing in the whole world.”

#heather writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster bradshaw x reader

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perfinn · 6 months ago

Text

the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc - part v

wc: 4.4k

summary: aemond and cecily have a much needed conversation.

cw: NSFW, this is the one y'all! j pushes her aemond/mr. darcy agenda, fingering, almost a handjob, p in v, titty suckin

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

Aemond thinks the only being who truly knows him is Vhagar. Too big, too much to be confined in any castle or dragonpit. When Aemond is in the sky with her, or otherwise, he feels he is himself.

“I suppose the thing that confuses me the most,” he says to her in soft High Valyrian, reclining against her neck on some beach somewhere in the Crownlands. “Is that she truly seems to want it. To know me, I mean. Carnally and… otherwise.”

Vhagar grumbles where she’s settled, head in the sand and her green eyes watching the waves lap at the shore. She’s a fine listener, but has never been much of a conversationalist.

Aemond sighs. “It is not ladylike, is it?” He says. “To desire sex so readily. A man desires sex. A man or a whore, perhaps.”

Vhagar huffs at that, seeming to disagree.

“Well, I’m sure you do,” Aemond grumbles, smiling in amusement. “You are an animal. It's different for you. But I suppose men are like animals too. We fuck like hounds. Ladies, highborn ladies as fair and fragile as Cecily, they shouldn't want that. I don't know how I can make her see that I only deny her out of respect for her position.”

Aemond looks out at the crashing waves. He must be somewhere near Duskendale, he thinks. Far enough to be freed of the suffocating walls of King’s Landing, at least. There is a fishing boat on the horizon. Aemond wonders, distantly, about the men on it. Are they married? What must it be, to be common and married? There is so much more opportunity to love one’s wife, he is certain, when it comes not with the pressures of political alliance. Not that he wishes he were common, oh no. He only finds himself envying that they lack the same burden of responsibility.

“I don't know what to do, Vhagar,” Aemond admits. “Dragons sing to one another. I cannot sing to her.”

Vhagar shifts her head so one of her eyes can see Aemond. She seems, as ever, to be judging him.

“It is not as simple as you make it out to be,” he says. He’d never speak like this to her with anyone listening. Treating her as though she responds verbally. But none are around for miles save for the fishing boat that is becoming only a dot on the horizon. “She believes I hate her. And in truth, I do not think I do.”

Vhagar blinks slowly, a low rumble sounding in her throat. Aemond can feel the vibrations of it against his back. He feels glad he can interpret her answer however he wishes. Use her to give voice to the thoughts he dare not raise himself.

“I suppose I ought to just talk to her. Prove to myself she is not so humiliating. She seems… smart. Strong willed. I suppose I do like that in a woman.”

Vhagar lowers her head to the ground again, ancient gaze on the ocean yet again. Aemond wonders if she ever sees the sea and thinks of the Lady Laena. What it must be to live so long and lose so many.

Aemond stands, sighing and nodding with determination. “You are wise, my girl,” he says, turning around and running a hand over her drooping scales. “I can hope only to match a portion of your wit someday.”

Aim high, Vhagar seems to say. But do not strain yourself reaching for what is impossible.

Aemond makes his way to Cecily’s chambers that evening. It is Ser Erryk stationed outside her door today.

Cole had initially protested the idea of stationing a Kingsguard outside of Cecily’s door each night, but it had been Alicent to suggest it and then insist upon it. Cecily was a part of the royal family by marriage, and more vulnerable by far than any of them bar the children. Ser Harrold had agreed with the queen’s conclusion. Aemond had concurred, though quietly.

He knocks on the door, entering when Cecily calls him in. She’s sitting in the settee by the hearth, a needlework hoop in her lap.

“Cecily,” he greets. Cecily startles at the sound of his voice, moving to stand up. “No, don’t. I mean… you may sit. I hoped I could join you.”

Cecily fails to hide the surprise in her face, but after a moment she nods and gestures to the armchair across from her. She adjusts in her seat, wearing her nightgown and a silken green robe. Her chestnut hair is loose, falling in soft ringlets down her back and around her face. She smiles nervously.

“I wasn't expecting company,” she says, fiddling with the hoop in her lap. “Yours especially.”

Aemond hums, looking down at the hoop before spotting a well organised wooden box on the table full of thread, each spool labelled by embossed letters. “How do you do that when you cannot see it?”

Cecily blinks, smiling a bit and lifting the hoop back up into her hands. “Very slowly.”

Aemond huffs in amusement. “I can imagine. How do you know if it looks good?”

“I haven't a clue,” she admits, lifting the hoop and turning it to face him. “What say you?”

It seems to be half finished. What has been stitched is a dragon of shining green, and the charcoal sketch around it shows roses. It is not as refined as, say, Helaena’s work, but for a girl who cannot see, it is fine work.

“It looks fine,” he tells her truthfully. “A dragon and roses?”

Cecily smiles wryly, setting the hoop back in her lap. “Yes. My father’s suggestion. I suppose he means for me to gift it to you. He tells me your dragon is green.”

“She is,” he says.”Though some might call her brown.”

“All the same to me. She was green in the history books.”

Aemond is quiet for a moment. “You remember?”

Cecily leans forward and feels for the table before carefully setting the hoop down. “I do. Or, at least, I have memories of things I saw. But I never know whether I can trust them. May I tell you a truth?”

Aemond nods. Then, he feels his cheeks heat. Idiot. “Yes.”

“I fear that I have actually forgotten it all, and my mind is filling in the gaps of how people look.”

Aemond stares at her in silence a moment. “Is it not all filling in the gaps?”

She shakes her head. “Not always. I told you, my parents are said to look the very same as they did when I went blind. But memory is a funny thing.”

Aemond watches her, not wishing to interrupt until she feels she’s finished speaking.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “You probably do not want to know.”

“No,” Aemond says quickly. “No, I do. Or I would not have asked.”

Cecily smiles nervously. She nods, fiddling with the stitching of her robe. “I do wish I could see you, sometimes. But I have a clear image of your face in my head now.”

“I have been unkind to you,” Aemond blurts out, kicking himself for speaking his mind so carelessly.

She seems just as shocked by the admission, doe eyes blinking slowly. “Not unkind.”

“Yes, unkind,” he says firmly. “I have been cold and rude to you when you have not earned it. In truth, I believed you a burden.”

She’s quiet a moment, fidgeting now with the embroidery on her robe. “Because I am blind.”

“Yes,” Aemond breathes. “I thought our parents matched us because of our deformities. I thought… you were chosen for me because they believed that my one eye is all I am.”

“And in turn you believed my blindness is all I am,” Cecily says quietly, carefully. There is no coldness or resentment in her voice. How can she speak to him so calmly when he admits to her such cruelty? He would surely be seething if she admitted to the same. “I noticed as much. And it hurts more than I am prepared to say.”

Aemond’s throat grows tight. He opens his mouth once, twice, before he can find the strength to tell her, “I’m sorry.”

“I do not blame you,” she admits. “People with sight base their thoughts and impressions on what they see first. I am given the privilege of being able to do nothing but judge people on their character alone.”

Won't she accept his apology? Can't she know how much it pained him to say so little?

“May I ask you something, lord husband?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, then adds, “Please call me Aemond.”

Cecily nods, taking a deep breath. “Do I repulse you?”

“Re-repulse me?” Aemond sputters. “How could you repulse me? You are beautiful.”

She purses her lips. She doesn't believe him. He can see it.

“Cecily,” he murmurs, reaching across and gently placing a hand on her knee. She startles for just a moment. “I desire you. Most ardently.”

Cecily exhales, lips parted. Aemond cannot take his gaze from her. “Yet you will not touch me.”

Aemond shifts out of his seat, moving so he kneels before her. He takes her hand. “There is little in this world that would make me feel worse than to disrespect you so readily.” He pauses, staring up at her. He lifts her hand to his mouth, lips brushing over her knuckles. “Is it what you truly want?”

He sees his wife shiver. “More than anything.”

For a moment, Aemond closes his eye, taking in the sheer relief of the truth. His desire is not unfounded, not bred in sin and shameless lust, it is requited. She does not simply desire the wanton pleasure of sex. She desires him. He sighs softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before standing up slowly.

“Stand,” he encourages.

Cecily rises. Aemond tilts her chin up so he might see her face. He reaches for the velvet ribbon tying her robe and pulls on it slowly, parting the silk which he slowly slides from her shoulders. The nightgown beneath is a gauzy white fabric, hemmed with lace.

Such opulence merely to sleep in. Such opulence only to be removed. There is a small string tied to a bow at her chest, securing the gown on her shoulders. He takes the end of it and gently pulls, freeing the knot. The chest of the nightgown falls open.

It does not expose her completely, but he can see the gentle curve of her breasts, the way they sit upon her chest. Cecily’s breath catches and she closes her eyes.

Aemond moves slowly as he slips it from her shoulders, giving her each and every opportunity to pull away or stop him.

She does not.

He slips the nightgown from her shoulders and watches it slip down her body and pool around her feet. There's nothing beneath it– he has bared her to him.

“No smallclothes?”

Cecily’s cheeks flush. “I do not like to sleep in them,” she murmurs. “I-I wasn't expecting-”

“It's alright,” Aemond assures, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently trailing down the length of her arms. Her skin is warm. Milky pale and scattered with moles. The firelight flickers against her form, dancing across her skin.

“May I undress you?” She asks softly, reaching up and resting her hands on his chest.

“You may,” Aemond grants, hands continuing to explore her body as her fingers search for the clasp of his doublet. He lowers his hands to her hips, examining the way they dip inward slightly and tracing over them. Cecily finds the clasps, slowly undoing them, one by one.

Aemond is given ample time to explore her body. His cock twitches in his pants but he ignores it, trying instead to commit the shape of her to memory. He slides his hands up to the slight dip of her waist, gently rubbing his thumb over a round mole a few inches below her breast.

She is not maddening. Not in the way he thought she’d be. He has not lost all control of himself in touching her, but he is maddened all the same. How can he ever let himself do anything else but explore her?

He lowers his hands when Cecily pushes his doublet off his shoulders, shrugging it off and wasting no time in pulling off his tunic, dropping it to the ground so his chest is bare before her. Her deft, delicate fingers find his stomach, a soft breath leaving her mouth as she traces the defined muscles there.

Aemond raises his own hands back to her waist. One large palm settles on her warm skin while the other ventures upward, brushing gently over her nipple. Her breasts are small, round things that sit seemingly perfect on her chest. Cecily sighs softly when Aemond’s fingers brush over them, and he feels a smirk pull at his lips.

“You’re so…” Cecily trails off, a look in her eyes that Aemond hopes is admiration. He had once believed there was naught but emptiness in her eyes, but there is so much. Just because they do not see, does not mean they do not sparkle like amber. “Strong.”

“And you are beautiful,” he murmurs, experimentally pinching at her budding nipples.

She gasps, eyes fluttering closed. Her hands travel down, finding the lacing of his breeches. “Aemond, that feels…”

Good, he hopes. He watches Cecily bite her lip, hands pulling at the lacing with more urgency. Though he wishes not to think often of his night in the brothel with his brother, where so many of the whores chuckled at the young prince, he cannot say that the woman he did lie with– he dare not recall her name in such a moment with his wife – did not leave him without any knowledge of how to please a woman.

He hopes she had been truthful in her teachings, and that he may please Cecily.

“Good,” Cecily continues, tugging his breeches down. “Very good.”

Aemond grasps her hips, kicking his pants away. “I’m going to walk you back toward the bed,” he warns in a murmur. Without waiting for an answer, he steps forward and urges Cecily’s hips back. She acquiesces, trusting him to lead her safely to the bed.

“Step,” he warns, just a moment too late. Cecily stumbles, and while Aemond’s face drops into terror for having scared her, his wife only begins to giggle.

She wraps her arms around him for stability, sweet laughter filling her chambers.

“Are you okay?” Aemond asks, her laughter infectious enough that he feels a smile pull at his lips.

“Yes,” Cecily giggles breathlessly, leaning her forehead against Aemond’s bicep. “Yes, I’m golden. I can keep walking.”

Aemond huffs a soft chuckle, gently leading her the rest of the way to the bed until the backs of her thighs hit the mattress. Cecily pulls away to climb back onto it, shimmying back to lay half upright against the pillows while Aemond climbs over her. She wears a comfortable smile, and Aemond’s heartbeat quickens. She is so beautiful when she smiles. How could he ever bear to make her frown?

Her hands find his body again, trailing down his torso as he settles himself between her legs. Her fingers brush through the small amount of silvery hair at the base of his cock. His breath hitches, and he almost reaches to stop her again. But he resists, letting her trail her fingers to his hardening cock.

Cecily’s mouth opens and fascination fills her eyes. “May I?” she asks shyly.

Aemond smirks. “Wanton woman,” he mumbles, only making her smile. “You may. If I may do the same.”

“Of course.”

While his wife wraps her soft fingers around his length – Seven hells, it’s better than he imagined – he smooths his hands over her inner thighs, spreading them enough so that he might see that which he desires most.

Beneath a thick bushel of dark hair sits her cunt, pretty and pink and all but untouched. It fills him with swelling pride to know no one has touched it but himself. He exhales slowly, gently dragging his thumb through her slick folds, gathering enough that he may rub the pad of the digit over her pearl. Cecily shivers, inhaling a sharp gasp. Her hand squeezes Aemond’s cock and a similar noise escapes him.

He cannot focus on her while she strokes his cock as she does. He takes a gentle hold of her wrist, pulling her hand away from him. “Allow me to take care of you,” he murmured.

“I want to make you feel good too,” Cecily insists softly.

“It is I who has denied you too long. Allow me to make it up to you.” He drags his gaze away from her core to see conflict on her face. “Please.”

She worries her bottom lip a moment before nodding. “Okay. But next time I will return the favour.”

Aemond chuckles. “As you wish,” he says, looking back down to her cunt as he rubs slow circles onto her pearl. Cecily shivers again, dropping her hands and winding them into the sheets beneath her. Aemond lifts his gaze to her face a moment as he toys with her, watching the way it twists in confused pleasure.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” He asks.

She shakes her head, cheeks flushing pink. “No,” she murmurs. “I-I would not know how.”

“Mm,” he hums, moving to pet his middle finger over her entrance. “That is okay. Then we must find what makes you tick together.”

Cecily tilts her hips up, mewling softly at the feeling as he presses a slender finger into her waiting heat. He goes slow, gaze flicking between her face and her cunt. He cannot decide which sight is more delectable– the way her face twists and slackens as her body accepts the stretching pleasure, or the way she so eagerly accepts him into her core. His wife squirms against the intrusion and he leans down to press gentle kisses to the unblemished skin of her breasts.

He feels Cecily shiver as he drags his tongue over her pert nipple. He pumps his finger slowly into her cunt, working his way up to fitting each knuckle into her. She’s desperately tight, all but untouched. The idea of having it wrapped around his cock is intoxicating– it's all he can do not to plunge his cock into her right now and spare them both the waiting.

He gently sucks a nipple into his mouth, groaning softly as he works his finger in to the base. Cecily is squirming and moaning at the feeling, her hands finding purchase in Aemond’s hair. Aemond begins to pump his finger into her, slowly working in another.

“Seven hells,” she whispers, voice strangled and mewling as Aemond grazes his teeth over the delicate skin of her breasts.

He pulls his mouth away, lifting his head to hover over her face. The desire to kiss her wrestles with the wish to see her face as he unravels her. When her eyes flutter open and her lip is pulled between her teeth, the need to watch her wins out.

He eases the second finger into her, cunt acquiescing now to the stretch. Still, she’s tight. He wonders if it would hurt her too much to take her now.

No, he thinks. He won’t hurt her, not tonight, not again. Not ever.

When he can thrust two fingers into her with no resistance, he presses his thumb to her pearl and begins to ease a third in. Cecily winces and Aemond shushes her as sweetly as he can manage, pressing gentle kisses to her collarbone.

“Just one more,” he murmurs, circling the sensitive bud to make it easier for her. She squirms still beneath him, but sweet whimpering moans spill from between her lips. “Is this what you wanted, sweetling? Mmm?”

Cecily nods rapidly, grasping for Aemond’s shoulder and gripping it tight. He’s suddenly determined to bring her to her end before he ever puts his cock in her, pressing his thumb harder against her pearl as he sucks a nipple into his mouth again, hunched over her smaller form as his aching cock drips onto the sheets beneath him. He pays it no mind, the noises of pleasure he’s pulling from his wife worth so much more than a simple touch on his stiff manhood would be. Cecily’s voice breaks off as his third finger squeezes into her, giving more resistance this time. He gazes up at her face, tongue flicking at her nipple as he feels her spasm around his fingers.

“A-Aemond!” She cries, a hint of panic creeping into her voice at what must surely be a foreign sensation for her. So pious. Innocent. It makes Aemond’s cock twitch.

Aemond hushes her. “It’s alright,” he murmurs. “Let go.”

He sees the hesitance on her face for a moment, before she seems to decide to trust in him – Gods, why does that trust stir something in his chest so distinct from lust? – and relaxes, her back arching as a long, sweet mewl escapes her and she comes on his fingers. He feels her walls spasm around his fingers, greedily sucking the third finger in as Cecily writhes on the bed, helpless to her body’s baser whims. Aemond guides her through it, pressing kisses to the skin of her breasts.

“Good girl,” he murmurs when she stills, panting softly. He slowly pulls his fingers out of her, shifting onto his knees between her legs. He ruts his aching cock along her sensitive cunt, making her whine. He gently shushes her, placing his hand– still slick with her essences – onto her hip and rubbing slow circles into her soft skin.

He takes his cock into his hand, stroking it a few times and exhaling shakily at the relief he hadn’t realised he needed. Lining himself up with her, he leans forward to watch her face as he presses the bulbous head of his cock into her. Less thick, perhaps, than three of his long fingers, but nothing to scoff at. Aemond knows he’s above average size, and knows Cecily has taken him before. But then he was careless, passionless. And she did not take him to his base. Now he takes it slow, wants to see her ache for him as he eases tortuously slow into her. Cecily’s face scrunches up, hands darting to his shoulders for purchase. Her mouth drops open as he splits her on his length, and Aemond lowers his gaze to watch her take him. Gods, she’s divine. He’s been inside plenty of women in his day, but none quite so perfect as Cecily. It’s like her warm, wet, tight walls were made to take him.

He meets resistance a few inches in, grunting softly. He moves his fingers back to her pearl, rubbing at it slowly as he thrusts shallowly into her. This way, he eases his cock the rest of the way into her, a low, shaking breath escaping him as he seats fully himself inside her. Cecily is trembling, squirming.

“Do you need a moment?”

“S-so much,” Cecily whispers. Aemond realises then that she must still be sensitive from her prior release. He continues to rub at her hip and at her pearl, gaze intense as she hiccups for breath beneath her. A dark part of Aemond wants to fuck her properly right now, make her take it and watch her unravel with sweet overstimulation. But he has no wish to hurt her. He stills his movements on her pearl, instead simply letting her adjust at her own pace.

Cecily’s breathing quickens, then slows. There’s a few dreadfully slow moments before she speaks. “I can keep going,” she whispers.

A smile tugs at Aemond’s mouth. He anchors his hand on the mattress by her head, leaning over her as he pulls out almost tot the tip before rocking back into her. The drag of her slick walls against his cock has a trembling groan leaving him, matched by Cecily’s conflicted moan. Aemond supposes she’s still adjusting to the feeling of being fucked, deciding whether she likes it. Aemond, determined to convince her, drags his hand through her slick folds and plays once more with her sensitive pearl.

He lowers his gaze to see the way her swollen cunt takes his length, watches himself carve a space in her almost-untouched sex. His. No one else will ever touch her, no one else ever has. The thought of it, of marking her as only his twists something strange and arousing inside him. He reaches suddenly for her hand, intertwining their fingers as he hunches over her. This way, he can see the ring on her finger. The ring he’d given her the day of their wedding. A golden rose inlaid with garnets and onyx, a screaming symbol that she’s his.

Only weeks ago, Aemond could not have imagined himself so aroused by the thought of Cecily being his. But now, he suspects it will be the thing that brings him to his end. Cecily is moaning in his ear now, any discomfort seeming to have given way to pleasure as she rolls her hips in time with Aemond’s languid thrusting. She has always been beautiful, he could not deny that even from the moment he first saw her, but now, in the candlelight with her hair loose and her eyes closed as her face twists in pleasure, Aemond doubts there’s a more beautiful woman in all the known world and beyond.

“Give me another one,” he demands, pinching gently at her pearl and making her gasp. He quickly soothes it, stroking his calloused fingers over the sensitive bud. “Please, Cecily.”

Cecily lets out a strangled sort of moan and Aemond feels it when she reaches a second climax, her cunt spasming around him, sucking him in, practically trying to milk him. Who is he to deny her? Aemond comes with a guttural sort of sound and a desperate forward thrust of his hips, spilling his seed as deep as he can get it.

There’s a moment where the both of them are tangled together in their joint release, a blissful sort of thing that Aemond can only liken to being atop Vhagar in the air. Aemond tucks his face into Cecily’s neck, inhaling the scent. She does smell like roses.

Their shared reverie is broken only by their quiet panting. Aemond lifts his head after a moment, pushing some hair back from her face.

“Was I okay?” She asks, insecurity creeping into her tired tone.

Aemond leans down and surprising himself by pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her petal soft lips. “You were perfect.”

part vi

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond #my work #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #fic: the heat that drives the light #hotd oc #asoiaf oc

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spidey-d00d · 9 months ago

Text

Him Part 2

Hangman x reader, Rooster x reader

Tw: cursing, heartbreak unedited asf

Summary: Jake confessed his love for you and Bradley overheard, what are you going to do?

Word count: 2.8k

Hi guys! This is the very long awaited part 2 of Him, original summary: “You’re with him and not me! You’re in love with him and not me!” This is very angsty and I’m sorry if it is horrible writing, I’m not on a laptop and i also haven’t written anything in probably a year but i miss it so much and I’m trying to come back with some of my free time! I’m going to tag a few people that asked to be tagged when i posted the original story so I hope you guys like it! I’m sorry it took absolutely forever for this to finally come out but I’m hoping a part 3 will be coming in the very near future if y’all like this enough! Enjoy!

@dempy @budugu @theroosterperch

Weeks had gone by now, you were still with Bradley, happy, and still avoiding Jake and all of the stares he gave you. The two of you hadn’t spoke besides if it involved work and you were okay with that because in your mind you had been battling yourself. You knew it wasn’t fair to Bradley, you doing all of this thinking behind his back as he thought the two of you were blissfully happy, but you couldn’t ruin something for thoughts that you weren’t sure were even true.

You played back countless encounters between you and Hangman and some of them threw up red flags that you should’ve noticed in the beginning. Times in dogfight football where he consciously let you win, being the only one to bring you the beer that you like when the group was hanging out in the bar because he knew you hated their usual, sometimes actually covering your ass when flying and many more. It was something you noticed he didn’t do for anyone else, and that Bradley didn’t do for you.

Bradley was the best though, he was everything you thought you were looking for. Caring, sweet, listens to you, opens doors for you, loves your family, and he was stable. He was everything to you but there was something missing. There was always something that didn’t fit all the pieces together and you weren’t sure what it was.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you were greeted by your favorite beer appearing in front of your face at the hard deck. Smiling graciously at the blonde haired man standing in front of you with a stone face you thanked him and took the beer as he went back to the pool table.He had been slightly cold to you since your talk in the room at the hangers after the exercise. You wanted to talk to him, you really did but you didn’t know what to say.

You watched as some of your team played pool and you waited for your other half to arrive. U weren’t sure how long it would take for Bradley to get here so you just waited patiently. You joined in with laughter as Hangman pulled another win and Payback groaned in defeat, again. Jake had racked up a high winning score against all of the Dagger squad and now it was a score of 12-3 Hangman against the entire squad. His smile shined brightly and beautifully as he laughed along as everyone gained on him for cheating. You couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful he was in this light. He really was pretty and no one could deny that.

The liquid courage burned through your body as you randomly stood up and came up next to him, looking up as he towered over you and tapped on his arm. It gained his attention though he knew you were there, his hair standing up on the back of his neck at your proximity. He always knew when you were around. Looking down at you he quirked an eyebrow, “Can we talk?” You asked, his eyes burning through yours making you look anywhere but his eyes.

Nodding, he led the both of you out of the back door and onto the deck overlooking the beach. There was a beat of silence as you both stared out at the ocean, watching the sun fall behind the horizon. It was beautiful out here. He cleared his throat taking your attention back. “What did you want to talk about?” He tone was hard, like he was trying to keep himself from being vulnerable again. You understood why.

“I-um I don’t really know.” You answered truthfully. You don’t know why you decided this was a good idea, you didn’t know what was going on in your head and you hadn’t gotten your thoughts together before asking him to come and talk. “Alright then I’m heading back inside.” He answered quickly before turning around which made you panic for some reason.

“Wait, Jake.” You rushed out, spinning around to see his back towards you. He stopped hesitantly, slowly turning back around, “What Y/N” He sighed looking at you, tired. You knew he was beating himself up about what he said, but you still weren’t sure what he meant by it.

“Is what you said true?” You asked, avoiding his eyes. You heard him sigh, looking up at the sky for a quick second before looking back at you. “Is what true?” He played dumb.

“Don’t do that, you know what I’m talking about because I’m not the only one that’s been thinking about it for weeks.” You admitted. His eyebrows twitched up in surprise for a second before he face went back to unfazed.

“It was true, but you’re in a relationship and it was stupid and unfair of me to tell you that.” Jake said with sadness to his voice. In truth, Jake had been beating himself up since that day. He knew that you wouldn’t reciprocate what he felt, you two were just friends, teammates. You were in a relationship and he understood where you were coming from when accusing him of wanting to ruin your relationship.You were with his enemy, of course you thought that he wanted to ruin what Bradley had, but what you didn’t know was that he would do anything to make you happy, even if that meant he was unhappy.

“Why would you tell me all of this now? After i got into a relationship? After we were friends for months while i was single? Why now?” You asked, desperation in your voice as you gripped onto your beer bottle for support.

He didn’t understand why you were so torn up about it, you were happy with Bradshaw. “Because I’m an asshole remember?” Jake defended. He was going back to who he was as you hated it.

“Don’t do that. Don’t deflect. Why would you tell me this now?” You doubled down with force in your voice. You wanted to know. Maybe this would help you figure out what was going on in your head.

“Because I have loved you for a long time and I’ve tried showing you that for a while and you never saw me that way. Do you know how much it hurts to finally admit that you love someone and for them to throw it to the side and say nothing but that you are a horrible person and are trying to ruin their lives? I poured my heart out to you since you couldn’t take any hint that I liked you and all you could do was throw it to the side and tell me that I’m an asshole and that I’m trying to ruin your life.” He broke and poured everything out, taking a few steps towards you and closing the distance to where you were almost chest to chest, looking up at his heartbroken blue eyes. Being this close, he could see the tears welding in yours, and how hard you were trying to keep them in.

Silence loomed between the two of you, nothing to be heard besides the noise muffled coming from inside the bar, the ocean hitting the sand and the mix of your breathing. The sound of the door opening and closing was muffled by his speech since you didn’t hear Bradley come onto the back deck. His presence wasn’t know until a throat was cleared and both you and Jake broke out of your staring contest to see him standing there, flicking his eyes between the two of you.

Your heart broke. You knew he heard everything and you didn’t know what to do. “Bradley.” You breathed out as you saw the rise and fall of his chest from his heavy breathing and the heartbreak on his face. He said nothing as he just turned around and went back into the hard deck at a quick pace. Your first instinct was to run after him, and you did before stopping short of the door and looking back at Jake. The torture on your face trying to decide where to stay was all he could see. You debated for a second and that made you feel even worse for Bradley. He didn’t deserve any of this.

“Go.” Was all that Jake said with a sigh. A single tear fell watching his jaw twitch. “Please just stay here, I’ll be back.” Was all you said after running back into the bar. You could see the Hawaiian shirt start to make its way out the front door and you moved fast towards it. “Bradley!” You called out but your calls were ignored.

You finally made it outside and found him almost to his truck. You sprinted after him calling his name but he continued to ignore you. “It wasn’t what it looked like, please!” You begged him as you reached his truck that he was opening the door to. He slammed his door in anger and started towards you with a pointed finger,angry.

“Then why did it just look like Hangman was just confessing his love for you and you just standing there and letting him?” He roared, chest heaving in anger. Maybe it was what it looked like.You were at a loss for words for a second, not only his words asking you by surprise but his anger outburst coming at you paralyzing you in fear. Men didn’t scare you till the anger came through, then you weren’t sure what to do. Flight or fight wasn’t an option for you, paralyzing fear was though.

Shaking his head and headed back towards his truck, as you snapped out of it. “I didn’t know what to say Bradley, its not like i asked him to admit his feelings for me!” But you did. You begged to know why he told you what he did weeks ago, but for some reason him telling you that he loved you wasn’t what you were looking for.

“So you’re telling me that you don’t have feelings for him too?” He asked, standing next to his open door, ready to get into it and drive away. You stood there, mouth opening and closing looking for an answer. You didn’t know, truly. You felt something for Jake but you weren’t sure what it was and you were on the verge of figuring it out when Bradley made an appearance.

Your lack of answer gave him all he needed to know and he started getting into his truck. You rushed to the open window, tears now freely flowing down your face. “Bradley I’m with you! I’m here with you, please don’t do this.” You sobbed trying to get him to stay. You weren’t sure what you were fighting for but losing him like this wasn’t the plan. None of this was the plan. You were happy, what happened?

”But you have feelings for him, so you’re not really with me.” Was all he said as his truck roared to life and he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. “How do I fix this?” You cried, holding onto his truck hoping that he wouldn’t leave.

Bradley sighed, rubbing a hand down his face and finally looked at you, heartbreak in his eyes, looking at the desperation in yours. “You don’t. This, you and me, were over. You can go be with Hangman now, i don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t with me.” His words tore through your heart. You never meant to hurt him, you were just trying to figure out what was going on.

“Please Bradley don’t do this.” You begged him, “I’m with you, I’m here, why can’t you see that?”

“Because of him.” He clenched his jaw, as he nodded his head behind you. You looked back and saw Jake watching the two of you go through this exchange. You lost all the breath in your body as you stepped back trying to regain it, Bradley had shifted his truck out of park and started to roll off. “Bye Y/N” Was all he said as he pulled out of his parking spot and drifted out of the lot.

You sobbed, holding your chest before regaining your composure and your breath and now your attention was turned. You looked back at the entrance of the bar where the blonde still stood, watching you. Marching up to him with heat radiating off you, you walked right towards him and pushed against his check with anger.

“Why would you do that?” You roared. “You were supposed to stay away. You just made me lose everything!” You said while repeatedly pushing him back, and him just taking it stone face. Your sobs racked through your words, “You made me lose everything.” You pushed one last time before letting defeat take over and collapsing, but you never made it to the ground as he wrapped himself around you and held you while you cried.

Gripping at his shirt you tried regaining control but the sadness kept taking over. You never wanted to hurt Bradley, you didn’t want things to end like this, or at all. You just wanted to know what was going on with your head and your friendship. You knew having something too good to be true like your relationship with Bradley would come to an end but you didn’t know it would be to this extent.

Jake held you as you finally calmed down, being able to control your breath and slightly your thoughts. You didn’t want to move though, because then you would have to face him and the fact that you just broke up with your boyfriend and fell into the arms of the man he just watched confess his love for you. Your life was so fucked up and complicated and you wished this was all just a dream and it would be over when you woke up but you weren’t naive enough to know that wasn’t how life worked.

Finally working yourself up to face him, you sat up, wiping your face before looking at him. He had sadness in his eyes, and pity for you. He scanned over your face a reached up to catch a stray tear but you flinched away a flash of hurt flashed across his features but he covered it up quickly. You went to stand up and he followed your actions, both of you wiping off the dirt from your bodies from being on the floor. You kept your stare on the ground, avoiding looking at him.

“I gotta go.” Was all you said before trying to turn away before your arm was grasped and spun back around. “We need to talk about this.” He demanded, making you look up at him. “We need to talk about nothing Hangman, I need to go home and try to fix this.” You stated, but your arm stayed in his hand and you did nothing to move it.

“What are you going to fix? He’s gone and he knows you feel something for me too. You didn’t deny it when he asked.” He countered back. You didn’t know how much he heard but apparently most of it. You didn’t have anything to say back, he was right, but you weren’t going to let this go easily. “Bradley was here first, my priority lies with him, just because you come out of no where and admit that you have feelings for me doesn’t mean i will just up and leave him.” You spit out. You hated how you were treating Jake but the heartbreak and not wanting to accept that you and Bradley were over was taking over your emotions and you were letting them.

“They aren’t just feelings Y/N, I’m in love with you. Isn’t that enough?” He emphasized. You were so conflicted. “I-I dont know Jake.” You sighed. His face dropped and he finally let go of your arm. The cool air made the spot on your arm where his hand was just at even cooler and you felt lost without the contact. “Just go then.” He said calmly.

“Please Jake I can’t lose both of you, i don’t know what to do.” You started breaking again realizing that you might be making the wrong decisions all the way around. Losing both Bradley and Jake in the same hour would be torture for you, you couldn’t do it. “You won’t lose me, but we wont be how it used to be. I can’t do that to myself anymore.” Was all he said as he started back into the bar. You were frozen in your spot, you were going to lose him. You didn’t know what to do. You just stood there, staring at the door that he had entered through, losing sight of him, tears making a reappearance now.

What are you going to do?

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