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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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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

Text

Luffy Finally realizes he Loves you!

Pure teeth rotting fluff

Buy me a Ko-Fi

• Was sitting with his crew and talking all about thinks in their past that they enjoyed and brings you up.

• "Oh yeah! Then my best friend (Y/N)! They are back at the village I grew up in and they always supported me! Even gave me the food and boat I uses to leave to start this amazing adventure!"

• He talks about your cooking, how you'd always pack him a lunch. How you smile so much and make sure he was okay, especially when him and his grandfather argued.

• Sanji and the rest of the crew raise an eyebrow at hearing Luffy babble on and on about you

• "Wow, They sound amazing. Gotta meet then one day" Sanji jokes, taking another drag of his cigarette. "They sound like a real beauty"

• Luffy couldn't help but get a very odd feeling st hearing Sanji call then a beauty. Like he got punched but on the inside this time-

• "Yeah, They are pretty I guess. But I like how nice they are, They and Shanks showed me what good people are truly like!"

• Nami giggled at this. She knew attraction like the back of her hand and the way Luffy described you, this was the closest she had ever heard of him even understanding attraction to anyone.

"Luffy, It sounds like you're in love with them?" Nami teased.

• "What! No no they are just.. Wonderful-" He pauses, Thinking over Nami's words. He had always cared about you- a lot! And always having a picture of you being by his side when he became pirate king anyway. You were just always ment to be there, and if it hadn't been for you taking care of your mother he was sure you would have come Sailing with him.

• Usopp laughing also at this as he could practically see the gears starting to turn in his head. "This is golden!" He hollered. Earning Nami smacking the back of his head. "....Am I in love with (Y/N)?..." Luffy pondered- Zoro who had been 'sleeping' against the wall but heard the whole conversation opened a single eye

• "From the sounds of it.. Yes-" Zoro deadpanned, Deciding to return to his nap. Luffy face turning a red color before he gave a loud laugh. Practically bouncing in his seat "If that's the case! Set sail for Foodha Village! I gotta go get (Y/N)!"

• You would be working at your mother's little supply shop, Assisting in restocking some important supplies when you hear a ruckus outside as everyone starts shouting in glee. Stepping out you see a massive ship either a rams head on the front-

• Marveking at it for only a moment before hearing a loud voice that was all to familiar "(YYYY/NNNNN)!!!!"

• Looking to see Luffy, brightly smiling on the ship with a small crew next to him. You couldn't help but smile widely at seeing your childhood friend and crush. Waving at him proudly

• "(Y/N)!! I gotta tell you something!!" Luffy yelled, Not even waiting for the ship to fully dock before he stretched his way to the docks and ran towards you. Much to your horror as he could have fallen into the water

• "L-Luffy you should have waited to do-" However where cut off as Luffy lofted you up with ease and laughed proudly

• "IM IN LOVE WITH YOU (Y/N)!! BECOME A PART OF MY CREW!!"

#x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece imagine #one peice x reader #one piece live action

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 9 months ago

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Third Place Poll

Propaganda...

Colonel Brandon (1995):

Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.

Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.

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Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.

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More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).

The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.

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From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.

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The man has just heard her sing for a minute and he’s positively awestruck!

also adding his adorable adorable smile just bc i can.

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

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I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

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Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

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Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

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I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

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It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

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#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #third place poll #colonel brandon #mr knightley #emma 2009 #sense and sensibility 1995 #Alan rickman #jonny lee miller

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ferrarifinnick · 2 days ago

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SWITCHING POSITIONS! | THE HUNGER GAMES HEADCANONS

going feral thinking about thg men and their fav positions to put you in. this was so much fun to write and sooo hot 🫢🫢 also this is a lil bit longer than my other thg headcanons. are we loving longer or shorter headcanons pls lmk?? anyway, enjoy <3

includes: gale, finnick, peeta

warnings: sub/dom, switch, p in v, manhandling, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum, creampie.

gale has an insatiable need to overpower you. he likes his body to be on top of yours, pinning you down and threatening to crush you if he ever decides to stop supporting his own weight. he’ll lift your legs over his shoulders in missionary then lean down to kiss you, just so you feel his weight pressing you into the mattress. but he doesn’t just want to weigh you down. no, he wants you to feel powerless. expect him to manhandle you. he’ll toss you around, lifting and bending you into whatever shape or over any surface he desires. and resisting is futile, so if you do, don’t be surprised when he takes hold of your chin and forces you to look up at his disappointed face. “thought you knew better,” is all he’ll say, before he’s lifting you into his big arms and bouncing you up and down on him.

it’ll be too slow, slow enough for you to whine at the punishment, and that pathetic cry is almost enough to bring him to his knees. almost. instead, he’ll say, “oh, so now it’s too slow for you?” with feigned shock. then he’ll shrug and say, “don’t be sorry for what comes next.” cue him pinning you to the mattress, face in the blankets as he rams in and out of your pussy from behind. when you’re crying out at your second orgasm, he’ll say “no tears! you asked for this.”

he comes alive in missionary, standing up cowgirl, and PRONE-BONE (hands on your back, full weight crushing you into the mattress).

when it comes to sex, finnick has very few reservations. despite his sexual past, he will turn very little down for you because for once he feels safety in his sexual explorations. the only nonnegotiable for him is being able to see your face at all times. it grounds him, and more importantly, it encourages him to enjoy sex. like gale, he likes showing off his strength by lifting you up and down on his cock. but finnick is a switch, and he loves the feeling of falling out of power just as much as he loves the feeling of getting it. so when you push him down on the bed (or sand, boat deck, or shower floor), he’ll put up no fight as you climb on top of him and take charge. expect strong eye contact, but don’t blink here or you’ll miss that smirk stretching into a grin. the only time it will disappear is when he’s about to cum. eyes rolled back, throaty moans spilling through his open mouth, and don’t be afraid when he pinches your hips and fucks his own up into you. he just really likes getting deep inside you when he cums.

shines best in standing cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary (he likes watching your face when he first pushes himself inside you).

peeta isn’t fussy. as long as you’re the one who’s over or under him, he’ll be up for anything you want. but being underneath you is his favourite, especially when you get a little bossy and tut at him for trying to push up into you, or when you peel and throw his hands away when he cups your tits without your go ahead. it drives him crazy to be so powerless, and he appreciates every second that he gets to watch you bounce or squat on him, because he knows just how lucky he is that this is his view. but sometimes you go too far. sometimes you pin his hands down for too long, or he’s had enough of your tuttings and teasings. sometimes he thinks you forget that he lets you be in control.

you might miss the dark shift in his eyes when he’s decided you’ve gone too far, but you’ll know it when he has your face pressed into the mattress, strong arms caging you beneath him as he grunts out “think you can tell me off, huh?” between powerful thrusts. “no, peeta,” you’ll cry out, but he’ll ignore you. he’ll keep going, thighs slapping heavily against the backs of your own. “peeta!–” you’ll beg, but this time he’ll tut at you and slide his hand over your mouth. “shh, i didn’t say you could talk, did i,” he’ll say, and when you silently shake your head, he’ll grin and affectionately say “ah, there’s my good girl.”

routinely finds himself in under you in cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, but comes alive in DOGGY!!

sorry but peeta’s makes me GIDDY hehe. please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging. love <3

#finnick odair x reader #peeta mellark x reader #gale hawthorn x reader #the hunger games smut #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #thg x reader #thg x reader smut #thg smut #thg #Finnick Odair smut #peeta mellark smut #Gale hawthorn smut #Finnick odair #peeta mellark #gale hawthorn #thg headcanon #the hunger games headcanon #smut

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mumms-the-word · 9 months ago

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Ascension, Return

Pairing: Gale x You (Reader POV) Summary: You watch as Gale restores the Crown of Karsus and temporarily becomes a god before disappearing to return the crown to Mystra. And you can only hope, now that he is a god, that he will return. ao3 link A/N: I was thinking the other day about how in the ending for an Origin run for Gale, regardless of how he plans to deal with the crown business, he always shows up as God!Gale in front of Mystra before agreeing to hand over the crown or deciding to stay a god. And it got me thinking...wouldn't a romanced Tav who is expecting him to give up the crown see him ascend? So anyway I wrote this to get those thoughts out there. As usual pic of my Tav Dani because I keep forgetting to ask to borrow people’s better pictures

It doesn’t take long for you and Gale to make plans to retrieve the crown from the depths of the Chionthar River. The sooner you get this over with, the better, you think, and yet something about this endeavor has you on edge. You secretly wish you can just leave the crown down below the waters…but then, anyone could get it down there, with the right spells or the right technology. You can’t risk that.

You don’t want it in Mystra’s hands either, but what choice do you have? She, at least, is a goddess interested in balance, neither evil like the Dead Three, nor entirely good and thus subject to extreme corruption. There’s no telling what she’ll do with the crown, but she has offered one thing in exchange—a cure for your lover’s affliction.

He’ll be free of the dark hungering orb at last.

It’s enough to convince you. You retrieve your worn bedrolls from the Elfsong and shoulder your pack, ready for your next little adventure—a small boat ride to the other side of the river, and a few days spent with Gale as he searches the murky waters.

You join him on the banks of the Chionthar, well away from the bustle of the city as it is trying to rebuild, watching over him as he sits, eyes glazed with concentration, guiding simulacrums to walk the riverbeds and floors of the river, combing through the mud for the crown. He could have let his simulacrums search without him guiding them, but he wants to be sure, to search closely. He doesn’t want to waste his time turning away simulacrums who bring back scraps of metal, shrapnel from the Iron Throne, or bits from the carnage of the fight against the Netherbrain. So he looks through their eyes, seeing nothing for hours but hazy water, mud, and river plants.

Though you long to lie back and watch the sails of fishing vessels drift by like clouds on the breeze, reveling in a hard-won moment of peace, you don’t want to miss a moment where he might need you. You do not want him to be caught unawares by some curious animal, or worse, a lingering enemy. So you sit and watch, your stomach twisting into knots as you face what you know will be inevitable—the moment when he finally finds the crown.

It takes all of two days of searching. After hours upon hours of looking, he stiffens, his physical body reacting to something beyond your sight, and you know at last that he has found it. You both stand as his simulacrum emerges, dripping water, with the cold bronze of the crown in its hands.

The Crown of Karsus.

It’s so much smaller than you remember. When you faced it on the top of the Netherbrain it had easily been the size of a large carriage. Here, on the banks of the Chionthar, it’s no bigger than a normal crown. It looks innocent. Harmless.

But you know better.

The power it releases…you are no stranger to it. You readily recall the metallic taste on your tongue as you drew near it atop the Netherbrain and the way its very aura tried to drive you to your knees. Its power is weaker now, pulsating from the bronze metal like a faint heartbeat, but you know that it won’t stay that way.

You glance at Gale, wondering what you’ll see in his face. Dark hunger, perhaps, or something bittersweet. Reluctance, dread, or tired resignation. But his expression is surprisingly neutral. He doesn’t step forward to take the crown just yet. Instead, he studies it with his eyes before taking a deep breath through his nose and turning to look at you.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

You blink, a little taken aback. “Of course,” you say. “Always.”

“That’s gratifying to hear. It will take me some time to restore the crown and the Netherstones to their original state, fit enough to give to Mystra. The process will be necessarily delicate, given the orb I carry. I should ask you to keep a safe distance. A city’s worth of space, perhaps, just in case, but—”

You cross your arms. “I’m not leaving your side, Gale. I’m here with you, for good or ill.”

He smiles then, as much relieved as he is amused and resigned. “I know. I expected as much. But I thought it best to offer or warn you regardless.” He takes a deep breath. “Very well, then. We stay together. I just hope you’ll be patient with me.”

You reach out and take his hand, threading your fingers between his. “I will be. I’m here for you. Take all the time you need, my love.”

He gives you a grateful look, squeezing your hand affectionately before leaning in to brush a sweet, gentle kiss against your lips. You let him pull away, slipping out of reach, and watch with bated breath as he steps forward to accept the crown, the mark on his chest glowing brighter and brighter as he nears and finally takes the crown in his hands.

You don’t know what you expect. A light show, perhaps. A wave of dark, Netherese magic, or a black hole effect. You steel yourself to the fear that he will simply evaporate or fall to his knees in pain.

But nothing spectacular happens, aside from his mark glowing brightly. To your eyes, the crown acts as little more than a normal crown. To him…

You see his chest expand with a deep breath, the orb flaring brighter, watch him blow the air slowly through his lips, his face tense. But without the tadpole in your heads, you can’t guess at what he’s thinking or feeling. He closes his eyes, simply breathing, concentrating. Fighting, perhaps. Wrestling with some unseen force. The glow on his chest dims slowly until it is only a faint purple tint on his skin. Only then does he finally tighten his hold on the crown and turn back to you.

You get the sense that he has just won a silent, unseen battle within himself. It occurs to you too late that putting the crown and the orb in close proximity might actually hurt him. But it seems that the danger has passed...for now. If he’s in pain, he isn’t showing it.

“Come,” he says. “Let us make sure we’re a safe distance from the city. Just in case.”

His words don't inspire confidence, but you say nothing. You merely follow him back to your camp further up hillside. You know he has work to do.

———

You give him time. That’s all he asked for. Time to concentrate on the magic. Time to manipulate threads of the Weave. The Mystran Weave and the Karsite Weave. Sometimes you think you understand what he’s doing, but more often than not, you don’t. The magic he is performing is beyond your comprehension, guided by notes in the Annals of Karsus which lays open in front of him. You suspect some of it comes innately to him, an understanding born from carrying Netherese magic for so long. The rest must come from Karsus himself, written down as instructions or incantations. You give up trying to understand and simply make yourself useful. Or you try to, anyway.

All you can really do is linger nearby, keeping an eye out for anything that might interrupt his work. You barely interrupt him yourself, save to place some food and water near him with a soft reminder that he needs to eat to keep his energy up. He’s not a god yet, you tease, but the words taste sour on your tongue.

Yet. But soon.

You don’t feel ready for it. You know it’ll only be temporary. You hope so, anyway. But you’re still not ready.

The day passes by without you noticing. Gale sits with the crown, working, weaving, an illuminated aura around him filled with heavy magic. You leave him to his work as the sun moves slowly overhead toward the horizon, painting the sky in tones of orange, red, and purple. You lay down to watch the swirls of violet and indigo magic that gather around him as night falls, until in your exhaustion, you close your eyes for a moment to rest.

You don’t know when you drifted off to sleep, but you’re awoken in the early hours of the morning by his hand on your shoulder. You stir, blinking groggily up at him.

“It’s time,” he says softly. He helps you sit up, hands lingering on your arms, your hands. The crown isn’t with him, but sits on top of his pack several feet away. “I’ve done all I can. The stones and the crown are together again. Functionally the crown is complete, but…there is one last step I need to take.”

He kneels in front of you, dark eyes searching your face in the dim firelight. No, you realize. Memorizing. You feel a sudden knot in your throat and though you are seated safely on the ground, it feels as though a yawning void is opening up around you, threatening to swallow you whole should you tip too far to one side.

This feels like a goodbye.

“Once I put on the crown, the magic of the orb will finally combine with that of the crown. And I will…change,” he explains quietly, while you try to calm the surge of fear that grips your heart. “The magic of the crown and orb will become one and give me the power at last to meet with Mystra as an equal.”

An equal. He doesn’t say as a god. But you both know the truth.

You can scarcely breathe. You want to trust him. You want so desperately to believe in him. And he is looking at you so lovingly, but the very air seems tinged with sorrow. Nothing is certain. Nothing save his love for you, and even then, the tiniest doubt worms its way into your head and your heart.

Once he is a god…will he even remember to come back to you?

“And then?” you ask, your voice no more than a whisper.

“And then…I will hand the crown over to Mystra. And hope she keeps her word.”

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I trust you, my love.” You use the words, saying them out loud, to dispel your doubts and fears. You do trust him. With your life, with your heart, with your all.

If only you could trust Mystra. Can she be trusted to cure him? Can she be trusted to let him return? And if he does return, can she be trusted to let him return unchanged? Chosen or not, will he still be Gale Dekarios, the man you love? You don’t know. But you hope so.

He smiles at you and brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek, his fingertips trailing along the line of your jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He leans in for a kiss and you, selfishly, wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly to you as your lips move against his, wanting to never let go. You rise to your knees, following him as he tries to pull away, kissing him deeply, tangling your fingers in his hair, until at last you are both breathless and you have to hide your face in his shoulder. You cling to him, reluctant to let him go just yet.

“Just come back to me,” you whisper. “Whatever happens.”

His arms tighten around you and you feel the bob of his throat as he swallows with difficulty. He strokes your hair and your back, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your head. You can feel it in every touch and breath he takes. He doesn’t want to let go yet either.

“I will, my love,” he whispers back. “I swear it.”

It’s enough for now. It has to be. You could delay this day for a thousand days and still never be ready to let him go. But you have to. If he wants to be whole again, free of the orb, perhaps even free of Mystra…he has to do this.

You reluctantly loosen your hold on him and sit back on your heels, meeting his dark-eyed gaze in the early hours of the morning. He takes your hands and lifts them to his lips, brushing kisses against your knuckles, turning your hands over to kiss the center of your palms. Each touch of his lips to your skin is a reverent confession of love and longing and it only makes your heart ache more.

Please don’t let this be goodbye.

“Wait for me,” he says.

You cradle his cheek in your hand, gazing earnestly at him, soaking in every detail of his handsome face, committing it all to memory. “I will, my love. I swear it.”

He smiles at you then, full of love and happiness. He steals one last kiss from your lips before finally pulling away and standing, taking several steps back.

You stand too, preparing yourself for what is about to happen, even though you scarcely have any idea. You expect some of what you expected before, with light shows and waves of magic at best, disintegration and death at the worst, but now it feels even more real. Even more likely. You don’t know what will happen, so you brace yourself for the worst, heart pounding in your throat, gut churning with dread, and hope, desperately hope, for the best, even though you don’t know what that will look like.

You hold your breath as he moves several paces away from you and bends to pick up the crown. This image, too, you commit to memory. The way he looks illuminated by the firelight, the lights of the city glimmering behind and below him, the stars glittering above him. The sight of him with the crown in his hands, contemplating it with an expression of deep gravity. The crown looks small and harmless, despite the sharp curls and the soft glow of the purple, orange, and pink Netherstones that are now set once more in the bronze. But he looks serious, regal even, with it cradled in his hands. Like a king mulling over the weight of his position and the choices that lay ahead. He is beautiful. Heart-achingly beautiful. You wish this moment could stretch on forever, if only because it means not losing him to the crown. To godhood.

He turns to give you one last lingering look, your eyes meeting over the distance between you, before he slowly raises the crown to his head and settles it over his brown and gray locks.

The effect is instantaneous. A blast of magic blows outward from him, kicking up wind and dust and flashing bright enough to rival the sun. You cover your eyes, shielding your face, the light blinding you. Suddenly the air feels electric, tasting of metal and ozone, as though you’re about to be struck by lightning at any second. Wind swirls around you, picking up speed, a cyclone of power and magic with you caught in the edges. You struggle to stay on your feet, your body resisting the pull into the vortex. What little you can see is naught but a haze of magic, purple, blue, and inky black, rushing around you and mixing with the wind. Threads of blue and silver lightning dance around you, passing close enough to make your hair stand on end, shocking you when you take an unsteady step backward. The vortex of wind, lightning, and magic threatens to suck the very air from your lungs until, with crack like thunder, everything around you stops.

The air grows still. It is as though you suspended in time. Held fast by magic. Your ears are ringing with the sudden silence.

You cautiously lower your hand. You have to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, the sight of Gale causes a flurry of emotions within you.

He stands before you as something…more. A god in all but name. He’s taller, you swear he must be, or else his very presence makes him seem bigger. His skin has turned a shade of hard silver, his hair ashen gray. The mark of the orb stands out in stark black on his chest and when he turns his head to examine his hands, his body, you see splintered blue lightning crackling at his temples and down the sides of his face. His brown eyes now glow blue-white with magic, any trace of his former warmth consumed by the light of the power within him. He’s striking, awe-inspiring…

And you can’t help but fear him, just a little.

On instinct you have the compulsion to kneel, but you don’t. You force yourself to stay on your feet and look at him, really look at him, and try to find the man you love behind this new godly veneer. He has to be in there somewhere. He has to be.

“Amazing,” he murmurs, and his voice is layered two or three times over with a strange echo, one that gives you unpleasant shivers. Even his voice carries tiny waves of power. You already miss the warm tones of his mortal voice with its Waterdhavian accent.

He flexes his hands, raising them before his face, his expression one of wonder and awe. With but a gesture, he summons threads of the Weave together in glyphs and effects you can barely make sense of, though you feel the thrum of magic deep in your chest and know, instinctively, that he is capable of snapping your mind with a thought or destroying you with a word. He smiles, and the effect is strange. He looks like himself but he doesn’t. Something about it seems wrong to you. Uncanny. Familiar and unfamiliar.

The pit of dread in your stomach grows.

But then he catches sight of you, waiting, watching breathlessly, nervously, hoping that he’ll remember his promise to you. His smile fades and for the briefest moment you catch a glimpse of the man you love. Even his blue-white eyes, shining eerily from his familiar face, can’t hide the love he has for you.

He lowers his hands to his sides. “It is done. The crown is fully restored once more.”

You nod. You haven’t the faintest clue what to say next. You’re still trying to make sense of the man-god before you.

He smiles again, and something about it is both patronizing, as though he pities you for not understanding, and sincere, an echo of his mortal kindness and patience. He presses a hand to his chest. “Well, I’d best be off then.”

“Wait—” You reach out as if to stop him and he pauses. Your hand hovers uncertainly in the air before you lower it to your side. "One last kiss, before you go. Please."

His smile softens. "I can deny you nothing, my love," he murmurs. He crosses the distance between you with a strange grace he didn't have before. Before he was elegant, but at times a little awkward. None of the awkwardness remains in him now.

You look up as he stops in front of you, his fingers curling beneath your chin the way he does when he wants to lift your face or guide your lips to his. You stare into his glowing eyes a moment before letting your eyes flutter closed. His lips touch yours...and it's different.

There's a magnetism there now that wasn't there before. You seem drawn in as if by gravity. He tastes of metal and magic, his skin cold but not unyielding. Your lips tingle with each kiss and the moment you seek to deepen the kiss—you gasp as a blue electric shock drives your mouths apart, your teeth practically rattling, your lips suddenly hot, almost burned. You press a hand to your mouth, looking up at him in shock, but he's just as surprised as you are. He seems unharmed, despite the tiny sparks of white-blue lightning still skittering over his lips.

"Ah...what an interesting side effect," he says, touching his hand to his mouth. The lightning calms. "Are you all right?"

You nod, rubbing your lips lightly as the numbness from the shock begins to subside and the tingling begins to fade. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant either. Still, you're wary of trying it again.

He watches you, looking torn, before a new resolve settles his features. "Then I suppose that is my signal to go. The sooner I depart, the sooner I can return." He takes your hand carefully, moving it away from your face, and presses a cautious kiss to the back of your hand. His lips impart another, smaller shock to your skin, but this time you're ready for it. Your fingertips go a little numb, but you manage not to wince.

"Wait for me, my love," he says, finally letting go of your hand. "I won’t be long."

You step back, giving him room to do whatever he needs to do, and watch as he begins to glow, brighter than your eyes can stand. You keep your gaze on his until the very last second, when the light grows too bright to stare at. You blink—and then he’s gone, disappearing in a shower of starlight that fades too quickly.

You are left alone in the cool night, with naught but a dying fire for company.

———

You don’t sleep. You barely bring yourself to tend to the dying embers of your campfire and stoke it back into warm flames. After that, all you can do is sit.

And wait.

And wonder.

And pray.

“Come back to me, my love,” you whisper into the cool night air. "Please."

You half-wonder if he can hear you. If, on some level, you’re praying to him, the newest of the gods. You don’t know if that thought comforts you or worsens your dread. How does he think of you now, now that his mind is that of a god, capable of seeing beyond the constraints of a mortal’s limited view? If he hears your prayers, does he think less of you, or love you more? Will he remember his promise, or will the power he now holds tempt him to break it? You want to have faith in him—you do have faith in him—but doubt creeps in despite your best efforts.

Come back to me.

You recall what it was like to wait for him at Mystra’s shrine at the Stormshore Tabernacle. How he had explained that time runs differently in the Outer Planes. How he would only be gone for a moment. Each second that had ticked by during that time felt like a year.

Now, sitting on the hillside, every second that passes feels like an eternity.

The fire crackles. The lights of the city begin to dim. One by one the stars fade out, hiding from view as the black of night begins to lighten into the blue hues of pre-dawn. And still, he isn’t back.

Wait for me, he said. And you will. You’ll wait as long as you have to.

But what if…?

No. You can’t bring yourself to put your fears into words anymore. Doing so will only make them seem more real. More feasible. There could be a thousand explanations for why he isn’t back quickly. You just have to have faith in him.

You get up and begin to pace. You start breaking little sticks and twigs into tiny pieces to feed to the fire, piece by tiny piece, just for something to do with your hands. You pluck blades of grass one by one or count the stars you can see. And you wait.

And wait.

Your thoughts are your own worst enemy and you wish you had called an ally to come and sit with you. Even Scratch with his favorite ball would have been enough to quiet your heart and mind. But instead, you sit alone, the crackle of a fire the only sound to break the silence.

Your eyelids are heavy now and your body longs to drag you down into slumber, but you resist. You want to be there when he comes back. If he comes back. When he comes back.

You get up to pace again, rubbing warmth into your stiff fingers, amusing yourself with memories of him. His smile. His sly jests and silly puns. His hands on your body and his body against yours, yours against his. The smell of him, as much as you can remember. The way he looked during battles, magic crackling and swirling around him. The way he looked in your bed, fast asleep. Gale Dekarios in all his mortal glory, the man you fell in love with. The man you wish was at your side once more.

Gods, but you miss him. You press your hands to your chest, feeling your heart beat beneath your palms. What is taking so long?

The first hints of pink and orange appear on the horizon as you turn to pace away from the fire again, your steps wearing a noticeable path through the grass. At this rate, you fear the sun will arrive before your love does.

You contemplate how you’re supposed to face the whole of a new day alone when a flash of light illuminates the darkness behind you. You whirl, heart racing, to see a shower of starlight once more—and out of it steps Gale.

Mortal. Human. Alive.

“Gale!”

You fly into his arms, which he is already holding out wide for you, nearly toppling you both into the ground with the force of your embrace. You both stagger, but you don’t let go, and his arms around you are as fierce in their hold on you as yours are around him. He practically lifts you off your feet. You can’t put into words how much it means to you that he’s solid your arms—warm, breathing, alive in your arms.

“You’re back,” you gasp, the tears in your eyes and clogging your throat making it difficult to speak. You don’t want to sob and make it seem like you doubted him, but the emotions welling up inside you are hard to suppress. “You came back.”

“Of course, my love,” he says soothingly, not yet relinquishing his hold of you. “You are everything to me. I could do nothing else.”

You untangle yourself from him to wipe the tears from your face and look at him, looking for any changes wrought by his visit to the Outer Planes or from his brief time at godhood. He looks like himself again, his lightly tanned skin flush with warmth and love, his dark brown eyes as rich and deep as ever. You comb your fingers through his soft hair, once more brown and shot through with hints of gray, rather than all over ashen as it was a while ago. Your fingers linger on his cheek, noticing for the first time that the dark vein-like threads that trailed from his eye to his chest are no longer visible.

The mark of the orb is gone.

In its place are a series of faint scars in the same threads and shapes as the old mark, appearing just below his jaw and flowing down to form a circle over his chest. The tattoo-like color has faded away entirely and there is no dark bruise at the center of the circular marking. Any trace of Netherese magic is gone, leaving behind little more than scars faint enough to be missed by any who are not actively searching for them.

You trace the circular scar lightly with the tips of your fingers. “Does this mean…?”

“It does,” he says, pressing his hand over yours so that both of your hands are pressed flat to his chest. You feel his heart beating, his pulse perhaps a little elevated, but every beat strong and vibrant. “Mystra has cured me of the orb. Completely.”

You want to hate her, and perhaps you still do, and always will on some level. But in that moment you’re grateful and relieved too. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight, overwhelmed with happiness and relief and joy. Your love is cured at last. The threat of losing him to Netherese magic is at last put to rest. He is whole again. Restored.

And he is yours. Not hers.

As dawn colors the sky overhead and spills pink-golden light over the both of you, you kiss him, reveling in the taste of him, in the warmth and weight of him, in his hands on you. Not a single spark of lightning threatens to drive you apart, so you deepen your kisses as much as you please. You simultaneously want to push him down into the grass and make love to him there and kiss him for an eternity you know you both don’t have and simply gaze at him in awe and wonder that even while he had godhood in grasp and a crown on his head, he gave it all up for you.

He gave up godhood for you.

You never realized you could love him more than you already did. But you do. Your every heartbeat sings love for him.

You lose track of time kissing him. It could be moments or hours. You don’t know nor do you care. But at last, when you finally pull away from him, it takes you a second to remember where you are, standing out on the hillside across the river from the city. The sun is rising over the horizon now, painting the world in gold and shifting the hue of the sky to a beautiful, cloudless blue. A new day is beginning.

A whole future awaits. And it is yours to shape with your love at your side.

“What’s next, my love?” you ask. “Now that we have everything we both want.”

“Next? For us?” He chuckles and takes your hand, bringing it up to press a tiny kiss on your empty ring finger. “If you still want me, I believe we have a wedding to plan.”

“I will always want you, Gale Dekarios. Now and forever.”

“Is that a yes to planning the wedding? Because I’ll have you know that Waterdhavian weddings are quite the large-scale affair.”

You laugh, his humor clearing the air like the sunlight warming away the fog of a morning and the dew on the grass. “Yes. Come on, let’s find some food to eat and get started. I can’t wait to begin a new life together with you.”

“My love, that new life starts now,” he says, bringing you in for another kiss. You smile against his lips and allow yourself to be corrected. He is right, of course.

Your new life with him begins now.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale #baldur's gate 3 #my fic #gale x reader #gale x you #I’m not super happy with this one but if I keep staring at it I’ll hate it #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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silly-writes · 1 year ago

Note

What if reader was an old childhood friend of some of the competitors (ie Courtney, gwen, bridgette, Heather, duncan, Izzy, cody, etc) with said character(s) having strong feelings for before reader moved away just to come back into their life during one season with reader initially unaware of these returning feelings in said camper.

Bonus: What if reader/camper did get together in that one season, only for next season to have a love triangle form involving another character. The camper is aware of said triangle forming though reader might be oblivious due to now having eyes only for first camper. What'd this be like for different people?

Compretitors with returning feelings for childhood best friend reader!

u guys r really feeding me with these prompts I can't even lie this one was a little tricky with all these moving parts! Sorry if some of these are a little angsty and don't really have happy (per say) conclusions, but I'm just doing what I think best fits the character! I only write pure fluff if that what im given. I hope you enjoy anyways anon!

Courtney

Courtney is beyond stricken when she sees you.

What are the odds you both would have signed up for the same shitty reality tv show?

Well, high as Courtney would tell you. You always were very similar even back when you were inseparable as children.

You knew Courtney was always very fond of you before you moved away, so the reunion is very sweet, and heartfelt.

The two of you attempt to spend a lot of time catching up on what you missed out on after you had moved, but on the show there isn't much time for it.

Courtney can't help but think about how absolutely heartbroken she was when you moved away.

I would think with Courtney's determined attitude (plus based on what she says to Gwen during their friendship) she has made too many friends.

So when you moved away, especially since she was little, it sort of felt like the end of the world to her.

I imagine you being around is wildly distracting for her. Despite her returning romantic feelings.

You were the only person who ever had that type of close vulnerable relationship with her, she would do anything to please you, receive attention from you, or keep you in the game.

All of it leads to some very undesirable slip ups from her, which with you is how I imagine she goes home on the island.

She watched you as she got pulled away, she's not going to leave it unsaid this time, she remembers what that feels like, she remembers how isolating and awful it feels.

"I'm going to miss you ______!" She called out to you from the end of the doc of shame.

You waved wildly "I'm going to win this for you Courtney!" You call back.

"No- I mean! I'm going to miss you because I'm in love with you!"

You stand there stunned as she boards the boat and calls out one final thing "You had bet your butt you'll win this for me! I just confessed my love to you on live television!"

You try to call back that you feel the same, but Chris does what Chris does best and gets in the way of a good time. Even if the boat hadn't driven her off before you got the chance to confess back, the motor is loud enough to where she probably couldn't hear you anyways.

By action, you two have fully discussed your feelings, and how everything should go now that you're into each other but still competitors.

You both agree that your first real official date should be after the show is over, so while things aren't technically official by next season, you two are undoubtedly interested in each other and therefore not getting involved with anyone else.

You stick true to that, but Courtney can see Duncan keeps looking at you, and she's not stupid, she would know that punks gazes in and out.

She doesn't bring it up to you, she knows you're generally very dense about those kinds of things.

But eventually, she can't take it anymore and her jealousy starts driving her mad.

She declares that you two are official, and that you very much are dating, which causes some tension between the two of you during action since you both agreed it just wasn't a good idea.

After some fighting, fighting, and more fighting eventually it's you this time taking the walk of shame to the lame-ousine.

Courtney fights her way to you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to play out this way!" She says sorrowfully.

But you did, you know just how Courtney is, you know how she gets, and while you didn't fully understand why she did what she did you could've guessed that some kind of fight was inevitable. Plus you know how she gets during competitions.

"Hey don't sweat it," you smile "now that I'm not technically on the show, I don't have as much of a problem doing this-" you say and bring her in for a short and sweet kiss.

After years of waiting for this moment, Coutney can't help but freeze up.

You pull away, and head towards the lame-ousine as she calls "I'll win this for you!"

"You had better win this for me! I just kissed you on live television!" You say smiling as you duck into the back seat.

Gwen

Gwen feels nothing but nervous when reuniting with you.

She was happy to see you sure, but her anxiety held her back in how she displayed that happiness.

She's mainly worried that too much time has passed since the two of you knew each other, and that the two of you won't have anything to talk about anymore.

Eventually the two of you slump back together and things go back to the way that they were before you had moved away.

Another reason she was desperately trying to avoid you at first is because of the huge massive crush she used to have on you.

And dang it of course you had to get cuter as you got older!

Just as she realizes that those feelings for you are slipping out of hiding, is also when she realizes that it's already too late.

Once again the two of you are glued at the hip, just like how it used to be.

You, being who you are and were, are wildly oblivious to these feelings because of course you are.

Gwen isn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, and even though you two are close she is less so with you, she's been burned before, she's not letting that happen again.

The two of you are sitting next to each other at the talent show when it happens.

Heather goes up on stage and says "Originally I was going to dance for you, but instead I want to celebrate team spirit with a collaboration" She holds up a dark notebook with an evil look plastered on her face.

Gwen seems to recognize it and instantly freezes up "Gwen? Are you okay?" You asked, knowing immediately something was off.

"She wouldn't," she says, and then braces herself.

"So with words by Gwen, performance by me, enjoy."

She cleared her throat before beginning "Okay so I've been trying to ignore them. But they're just so cute! I know it's been forever since we've seen each other and in that time they have gotten so hot! Out of all my childhood friends, of course it had to be them."

Gwen dashes away from the bleachers, and Heather seems satisfied.

Of course you run after Gwen to comfort her.

She lamented on and on about how you must think she's such a creep now, and was acting like a total school girl, still writing in a diary.

But of course you didn't feel like that at all, this was Gwen you were talking about here. The cool, collected, funny quiet girl, and you were obsessed with her.

You two start getting a little more romantic after that, and Heather seeing her plan to drive a wedge between the two of you did not work realizes she has to get her hands messy and plays a little bit more of a direct role in getting you eliminated.

It's a sorrowful goodbye until you see her again in action.

Bridgette

Reuniting with Bridgette is nothing but vibes.

She's beyond stoked to see you again, and even more stoked to ride the wave with you again.

I imagine the two of you met at the beach, and it was love at first sight for her.

You two click all over again like no time has gone past, and she fills you in on every little thing you've missed.

Things are super cut and dry with Bridgette, no mess, nothing but chillness.

She makes her feelings pretty clear, with some hints and stuff.

She learned her lesson the first time, letting you leave without having ever told you how she really felt hurt in ways she wasn't ready to feel again.

But if you don't pick up on it she'll just flat out tell you.

"I'm not doing this cause you're my team mate, I'm doing it cause I like you. You dork."

"I like you too Bridge, you know that."

"Not like that-!" She exclaimed, splashing you playfully, rocking the canoe as she did "-like like like you."

You stare at her in disbelief for a moment.

"what?!" you exclaim.

"Do you not feel the same?" She frowned.

"No I do... I just wasn't expecting-" she cuts you off tackling you rocking the whole boat as she does.

The rest is history and you two are pretty much inseparable from that point onward.

Up until World Tour, where Alejandro starts becoming a plane wide problem.

He tries targeting you at first, but youre so in love with Bridgette he can't get any headway.

But Bridgette being stuck on an opposing team leaves her exposed to his manipulation, he lies about you and makes her question her loyalty.

After she gets stuck to a pole, you find her, but when she explains what happened you just feel so hurt and betrayed that you leave her in the dust (or well, snow).

After a world tour it takes a lot of apologizing and healing to get over what happened between the two of you but you're both determined to make it work so you both put your strongest foot forward and work at it.

Heather

Heather is absolutely stunned when she sees you.

You greet her excitedly when she hits you with a "hello? Earth to nerd, I don't know you!"

That's enough to keep you away from her for a while.

She 100% is only pretending not to know who you are, but what choice did she have? She couldn't risk her feelings for you returning and ruining her chances at winning.

Close tender friendships like you used to have were bad for her image now, she had an impression to keep in this competition and she'd be dead in the ground before she let you or anyone else come in the way of that.

Her tenderness for you starts to show through and through though, you know her like the back of your hand, still, even after all these years.

You'd recognize those glances anywhere, and you knew it meant more than just being a strong team mate when she would point out all the ways in which you did well in the challenges. She was trying to keep you in the game.

The two of you never have any heart to hearts, nothing like that anyways.

She never reveals that she does remember you, not even as you watch her fade into the horizon on the boat of losers.

World tour she's more determined than ever, you've never seen her so deranged to win.

I'd imagine the love triangle would have more to do with her and Alejandro then you and anyone else.

She becomes torn between the two of you, and the inherit struggle in trying to pick over someone who actually matched her wit, and her childhood best friend and longest crush.

She makes her decision when she inevitably votes you out.

"Heather... you voted for me?" You asked, heart breaking, eyes already feeling wet.

She scoffs, "Don't take it so personally."

You sniffle a little bit, and then shake your head "I should've known better than to fall for your two faced snake self twice." You spit.

And with that you're gone.

She's not stupid, she's not forgetful either, and you knew that she knew just what "twice" really meant.

But she'd dug her grave now, she would just have to hope it could hold a million bucks.

Duncan

The meeting with him is very awkward I'd imagine.

He'd likely pretend not to know you until he can get a moment alone with you.

I would imagine he's largely embarrassed of your relationship due to the fact that he met you before his Juvie days, and you were one of the only people who had known him before he became nothing more than a delinquent.

So yeah, he's hell bent on making sure people don't find out about you two knowing each other.

But we all know deep down Duncan is a totally sweetie, even if it is deep, deep, deep down. His affection for you is bound to show one way or another.

Ever the observant one I'm sure it was Courtney who noticed first, marveling at how strange it was that you two of all people had romantic feelings for each other.

She urged the two of you together, subtly, attempting to be your sort of wingman, unbeknownst to even you.

Eventually Duncan works towards getting her voted out because of this, he's so obsessed with keeping his bad boy persona he'd do just about anything in this competition to keep it up. Even risk losing a million big ones.

You knew something was fishy about Courtney getting voted, but you couldn't put your finger on what. At least not until you heard him in the confessionals.

"I had to get that Courtney chick voted out, she was getting too close. I hate people who get to close,"

"Duncan!" you exclaim.

You can hear him mutter curses from the outhouse.

"Forget it! You know I can't believe I was actually starting to like you again!"

After that it's a nonstop battle for Duncan to win back your affections.

I would imagine the love triangle would consist of you, Duncan, and of course, Courtney.

She would start falling for you based on the way you shamelessly defended her despite your feelings for Duncan.

Only problem for you was those feelings hadn't exactly gone away since last season, and you were still very much into him.

You three fight a lot, and are the reason all three of you end up going home.

Which leaves nothing but time to work out your messy feelings for Duncan, and his for you.

But maybe time is really all the two of you need.

Izzy

Izzy is a bit of a wild card (obviously).

I feel like reuniting with her is just super duper chaotic, and very overwhelming at first.

She wants to fill you in on every little detail in her life within the same second she sees you again.

But you remember how to rein her in, she really hasn't changed much from the chaotic messy kid she was. (save for being a criminal now (whoops!)).

You being in the challenge with her would keep her much more rallied and motivated towards an understandable goal.

She can feel those intimate feelings creeping back, but she isn't shy with it.

I imagine she probably would've confessed to you once before, when you first moved, only neither of you wanted to try out long distance and thought it might only ruin what a good friendship you had. So through your move you decided to just stay friends.

You don't get long to sit and wonder about if those feelings still linger for her as they do for you when she abruptly asks

"So hey, are you interested in dating during the competition?" she asked, sitting beside you, anything but shy.

"What?"

Izzy was nothing if not explorative, she collected new experiences like pokemon cards, and she wanted to live fully every part of life.

"It might be a little bit messy. But I think maybe it could work, if all that was keeping you was distance the first time... well... I'm here now."

She stares at you with an expectant kind of rare almost nervous look, and though the confession is anything but picturesque, with her, it's perfect.

I think the love triangle would come in with her next season with maybe Alejandro falling for you.

Hard to say whether his attempts at flirting are due to advancing in the game, or genuine attraction. Either way you have trouble picking up on it, especially when things are going so well with Izzy.

I wouldn't say Izzy isn't a jealous person, I just think she could fall either way, depending on the person, depending on the day, the humidity in the air, basically on nothing at all. She's nothing if not erratic.

With Alejandro, she might be inclined to threaten him with her license to kill depending on her mood, and depending on what he tries to pull with you.

Cody

The reunion with Cody is one that is very heartfelt, and he instantly lights up upon seeing you.

You can see that he's fairly committed to his "too cool for school" schtick, so having any genuine connection with him might be a little tricky.

He's one person I feel like would have definitely tried to keep in contact with, it wasn't anything like every day phone calls, but the two of you had definitely spent at least some time sending letters back and forth.

So when you too meet there isn't a lot of catching up to do, only some.

He's overall very excited to see you back, and you know him enough to know that, even if he's refusing to show it.

You can feel those creeping feelings sneak up on you until the hit you smack in the face during one of the challenges.

"Cody!" you exclaimed during one of the challenges as he hit the ground hard.

"I'm fine," he lied, his voice strangled, the wind having been knocked out of him wholly.

You helped him up, and picked up a piece of paper that had tumbled out of his pocket and went bouncing a few feet.

At first you mistake it for trash, but with the way that even injured and put out Cody grabs for it, you figure it must be something good.

You were due for a little bit of teasing when you decided to open it, only to realize that it was a letter from you.

It's an old one, a really old one, perhaps even the first one you'd ever sent.

"Uhhh... how'd that get in there!?" He exclaims, swiping it out of your hands which are too stunned to fight against it.

Realization dawns on you just as quickly, there is only one reason he'd would've kept that with him after all those years.

"Oh my god Cody, you like me!"

The rest is history, and you two start dating among the challenges.

The conflict would come with Sierra I would think, who's hell bent on breaking you two apart.

All of her attempts fall flat unfortunately for her, and you two stand as one of the more healthy and strong relationships within the show.

#I hope this is as fun to read as it was to write!#oh my god is 3am #what am i doing #anyways hope u enjoyyy!#total drama #total drama x reader #total drama imagines #fanfic #td #total drama headcanons #td courtney #td heather #td gwen #td cody #td duncan #td izzy #x reader

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yzashaven · 1 year ago

Text

✰ ━━━ how they show affection for you <3

FEATURING scaramouche, tartaglia, xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, alhaitham, cyno x gn!reader

WARNINGS some are prob ooc 😭

NOTE (omfg these images are so low quality LMAO) on my past blogs, i usually only write nsfw so this is like... a change of pace? sort of... anyways hope you enjoy, likes and rbs are ofc appreciated! also, referring to wanderer as scaramouche since his name is player dependant

okay so hear me out when i say he seems like the type to take you to places with the prettiest views (shout out to his birthday voiceline) whether it be views of the sunset, a flower field, an ocean or beach view... as long as it's a pretty site to see, he'll take you there! scaramouche loves the way the places give him a peaceful feeling, and the way that it's just the two of you there? he's in paradise and heaven combined.

a bit similar to scara, tartaglia would take you to places. and by places i mean his homeland, snezhnaya, for the snow and to see his family. his little brother, teucer is certainly very fond of you, and tartaglia loves to watch you spend time with his siblings. he's such a family oriented guy... another thing he'd do is cook delicious meals for you! ranging from simple snacks to your personal favorites, and definitely some snezhnayan delicacies~

xiao is sweet to his lover, no doubt. but that doesn't mean he'll ignore his duties as an adeptus and focus on them. he expresses his love by protecting you... and maybe sharing his almond tofu. need his help? call out for him and he'll be there in an instant. also this whole love thing is very new to xiao, soo he's not used to things like hugging and kissing, yk those kinda stuff but he'll get used to it eventually. he does really like your company though, brings a smile to his face.

we all know albedo is a very amazing alchemist, he can make basically anything within a few hours or even minutes. he'd use his skill and powers to give you sentimental itemsㅡ such as a bouquet of flowers that never wither or ones that glow in your favorite color. If you don't really like flowers, don't worry, he can make whatever it is that you want! oh you want a dragon? he'll try and will come back to you with a small, cute, non-hostile looking one that protects you <3

he is sometimes busy due to work for the kamisato clan and being the "fixer" in inazuma, but he never forgets to make time for you! his love language is definitely quality time as he loves to just relax and accompany you wherever. another way thoma shows affection is through doing errands and other things for you such as cooking, cleaning around in your teapot realm, curing for your wounds if you ever get hurt, and maybe doing a commission or two of yours!

kaedehara kazuha... he's such a romantic man when it comes to his lover. he'll write you a poem literally every single day and compliment you every minute. kazuha also likes to run his hands through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear while you watch the sun set together at the best vantage point in wherever it is you're traveling at. he also definitely introduced you to his mom(beidou) so he takes you with him on the crux for fun adventures together! or just taking naps as the boat sets sail.

as the akademiya's scribe, alhaitham is often busy attending to those missions along with his personal investigations and other matters. so to prevent any lost time, he takes you with him. you're quite the strong fighter yourself so there won't be any problems, right? and if something bad does happen, he's your savior. despite talking sharply at times about how you weren't being careful or being reckless, he still loves you and will be happy that you're safe. alhaitham would reassure you about that too. also you study together at the akademiya library sometimes, he really likes having you around :3

cyno is a man of few words but reassures you about how much he loves you and would quite literally tear apart, limb from limb anyone that tries to harm you. cyno keeps a close eye on you especially when he senses danger is near, he wouldn't even wish for anything bad to happen to you. as the general mahamatra, fighting is practically his specialty which is why he uses that fighting experience and knowledge to protect you even if you tell him that you can handle yourself, he insists as he doesn't want to risk losing you like that.

#☾★ written »#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #thoma x reader #kazuha x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #gn!reader

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solaireverie · 1 year ago

Text

dr3 | deep blue but you painted me golden

part one — i polish up real nice

[ series masterlist ] part 2 | part 3 | part 4

pairings: daniel ricciardo x f!leclerc!rbr driver!reader, lestappen

summary: [ social media au ] y/n joins red bull and stirs shit up! ft. lestappen's oblivious flirting and danny's impeccable pr training

warnings: language

faceclaim: barbara palvin + random faceless checo pics

author’s note: i first came up with the last post of this series (stay tuned!) and it kind of snowballed into whatever this is 😂 i played fast and loose with the timeline. suspend your disbelief. anyways, enjoy!

Daniel Ricciardo Talks About Red Bull and What Comes Next — The Late Show with Stephen Colbert

liked by charles_leclerc, redbullracing, pierregasly and 459,157 others

yourusername looking forward to racing with an undying commitment to winning 👊 thank you so much @.redbullracing for the opportunity to join the fastest team in the paddock

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charles_leclerc super fier de toi 💙 mais ferrari est toujours la meilleure [ super proud of you but ferrari is still the best ]

↪ yourusername si ça te chante 🙄 🥰 [ whatever floats your boat ]

user not the caption 😭😭

↪ user she definitely saw the interview 😭😭

↪ user christian did say that rbr thought it was "right" to bring daniel back to the team 👀 which team and in which capacity though... 🤔

↪ user praying y/n isn't the next victim of the red bull second seat curse 🔮🧘🙏🕯

user y/n didn't hesitate at ALL with the speed comment huh 💀

↪ user i mean she's not wrong, red bull are currently the fastest and if they keep their momentum they'll completely dominate this season

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, danielricciardo and 519,238 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

redbullracing Pre-Season Testing sees us go fastest as Max and Y/n record fantastic numbers 💪

user holy shit we all know that y/n is a rookie but can we just appreciate her pace during testing??? that's insane for anyone, let alone a driver who's still getting used to the car

↪ user i've been saying it for months y/n could 100% be the next big thing for f1

↪ user can't wait to watch an actual race 🤩

liked by yourusername

user hear me out, rbr 1-2 in bahrain 👀

↪ redbullracing what dreams are made of! 🙌

user y/n proving all the haters wrong we love to see it!

liked by yourusername

↪ user danny would still do better though 😤

↪ user well he's not the one in the cockpit so wouldn't it make more sense to just support y/n as well?

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,258,976 others

yourusername never in my wildest dreams did i think this day would come. getting my first podium in my first formula 1 race is absolutely insane to think about. i don't have words to describe the joy i feel.

thank you to @.redbullracing for giving me this chance, thank you to the fans for cheering me on, and most importantly, thank you to my family for supporting me in chasing my dreams ❤️

i promise i'll keep making you proud. p2, baby!

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charles_leclerc that's my baby sister 😍

↪ yourusername we were born a year and a half apart.

↪ charles_leclerc yeah well max and i are only 16 days apart and he still calls me a baby

↪ yourusername i— you know what, you're hopeless 💀

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, arthur_leclerc

maxverstappen1 congratulations y/n 😁

liked by charles_leclerc

↪ yourusername thank you max!

danielricciardo 👏👏👏

liked by yourusername

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lestappen #lestappen fanfic

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alexfromjersey · 1 year ago

Text

𝓓𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓼 & 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓬 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

jenna x g!poc

summary: jenna and jah going to the obstetrician. jah asking stupid questions.

warnings: jah being a comedian, mature language, partial smut

a/n: tumblr didn’t save the first draft 😭…anyway enjoy the chapter and a Jenna edit 🤭. also I’m not a medical professional. I tried to look up the actual terminology and stuff to be semi-accurate but I started to lose interest 😂 - 4.3k words

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

MAY 2023

“YOU GOT YOUR BACK BLOWN OUT BY KID CUDI?!? WHAT THE FUCK!” You shouted on the phone.

You and Jenna were currently on FaceTime, she was in her last fitting for her Met Gala outfit. She was bored waiting for the designer to come and make potential adjustments. So she called you to entertain her someway. She regrets calling you now.

You were doing your due diligence as a baby mama and friend to watch Jenna’s work. You started with The Babysitter: Killer Queen. It was alright in your opinion, you gave it a 7/10. Next, you watched The Fallout. It made you tear up and you applauded Jenna on her work. You considered it her best character.

Then, you watched both Scream movies and now you’re watching X. She tried to get you to not watch the movie by not even telling you about it. You had to look up her filmography to find out about it.

“You’re so lucky I have my headphones in” Jenna rolled her eyes.

“Nah you ain’t tell me this movie like that. I was jumpscared with so much ass and titties and now I gotta see you have sex with Mr. Day N’ Nite. Insane” You stated.

“I told you not to watch it. Actually I specifically remember withholding the information” Jenna said.

“Hm. They did you dirty by pairing you with that white man though” You shrugged and ate a fistful of popcorn.

“Shut up” Jenna mumbled.

Your eyes slowly drifted away from the movie to the phone screen. Jenna was preoccupied fixing the nail polish on her nails. She was doing something so simple yet captivating. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. The feelings you felt for her was starting to scare you.

“So, Nancy helped me book an appointment with the obstetrician not far from you” Jenna spoke bringing you out your thoughts.

“You did it for here? Why not back in your hometown, you know to be closer with your family” You questioned.

“It was the best one and…I always wanted to live in New York. I also want to be far away as possible from my mother when I tell her that I’m pregnant” Jenna smiled.

You laughed taking in the information, “When’s the appointment?”

“Tomorrow morning, 9am” Jenna replied.

“I’ll be there” You playfully salute to her. You turn your attention back to the movie. It was now on the part where the white man get killed by the old lady brutally.

“Speaking of families, how exactly are you going to tell yours?” Jenna asked.

“I’ll just call my brother and tell him. Now, for my mom, I’m gonna need a police riot shield” You huffed.

"You and I are in the same boat. I'm praying for you more though" Jenna said.

Your head snapped toward her, "Nah, don't say that."

Jenna chuckled at the expression on your face. The door behind her opened and the designer walks in. "I have to go. I'll call you later" Jenna said.

"Okay...wait you don't get your back broken like a glow stick anymore in this movie right?" You jokingly asked.

Instead of a verbal response, you got the sound of the FaceTime call ending. You laughed out loud and placed your phone on the charger and turned back to the movie.

Meanwhile with Jenna, she rolled her eyes secretly amused as she hung up on you. It was starting to get hard for her to ignore the growing feelings she had for you. She stalked your Instagram, staring at each photo for at least 10 minutes. She stayed up late last night and watch all your YouTube videos.

“Okay, since you’re not showing yet. The dress still fits perfectly but we will loosen it up around the waist just touch” Thom complimented.

Jenna looked at herself in the mirror, “I feel good in it. It feels good, I’m really happy with it” Jenna smiled.

Thom and Jenna continued discussing the dress some more before Thom had to leave to another client. He bid Jenna a bye and congratulations and left the building. Now, it was just Enrique, Nancy, Hudson, and Big L in the room.

A phone alert has Jenna snapping her head to her phone but unfortunately it was not her phone that made the sound. Enrique snorts at Jenna’s actions. An embarrassed blushed appears on her face.

“Shut up Enrique” Jenna mumbled.

“I’ve never seen like this before. It’s adorable” Enrique chuckled.

“It’s just hormones” Jenna lied.

“Yeah no it’s not. You know it’s okay to like her right. I mean the both of you kinda skipped a couple of steps but it’s good to backtrack” Enrique joked.

Jenna playfully punched his shoulder which made him laugh. Nancy let out a little giggle at the home. Hudson just grumbled something incoherent to himself.

“What does she look like anyway? I wanna see if your baby is going to be ugly or not” Enrique said.

Jenna rolled her eyes and grabbed her phone. She went to Instagram and went to your profile.

“This is the most recent photo” Jenna said.

liked by jennaortega, davis, and 12,683 people

bronxshiesty no bite marks no scratches and no hickeys

“Oh my….she got a brother?” Enrique asked.

Jenna laughed, “She does actually but he lives in Barbados.”

“I always wanted to go to Barbados. When’s my vacation?” He joked.

Jenna just shook her head while laughing. She carefully took off the dress and Enrique hung it up on the mannequin.

“You know it still hasn’t fully hit me that you’re about to become an actual mother. Shit is wild” Enrique commented.

“You and me both. I downloaded this pregnancy app and currently my baby is the size of a large strawberry” Jenna smiled and placed her hand on her stomach.

“Ain’t all strawberries large though?” Nancy questioned.

“I guess not” Jenna shrugged and sat down in a chair. Her stomach growled loudly.

“Get used to that. You’re gonna wanna eat twice more than usual.” Nancy said.

A text message alert can heard throughout the room. Jenna picked up her phone.

NYC 🩵: yo u got anything else to do today?

Hollywood 🤰🏻: no I’m free for the rest of the day

Hollywood 🤰🏻: why?

NYC 🩵: I want to see you

Jenna’s heart fluttered at the message. She bit her lip and smirked.

Hollywood 🤰🏻: what are we gonna do?

Jenna watched as the text bubbles appear and then disappeared. It happened a few more times before the text bubbles stayed.

NYC 🩵: i mean…whatever you wanna do shawty. I’m down with whatever 😁

“Let me guess, it’s her” Enrique smirked and tried to peek at Jenna’s phone she turned away. “Ohh not y’all sending spicy messages”.

“We’re not sending spicy messages. She just said she wants to see me” Jenna smiled.

“See you as in watching movies or see you as in Neighbors know my name?” Enrique joked.

Suddenly, a loud slam can be heard throughout the room. Everyone looked confused at the sudden sound and disappearance of Hudson. But shrugged it off.

Hollywood 🤰🏻: I’m hungry

NYC 🩵: what u want

Hollywood 🤰🏻: seafood

NYC 🩵: u like seafood boils? I know a banging spot that I can get

Hollywood 🤰🏻: absolutely

NYC 🩵: bet 🫡

“You’re all finished for the day Jenna. Go spend it with your baby momma” Nancy said.

“Thanks guys” Jenna said and grabbed her things. She hugged Enrique and Nancy before walking to the door.

“Don’t get pregnant…oh wait” Enrique joked.

Jenna stuck up her middle finger and Enrique and Nancy’s laugh can be heard as she left the room.

🤰🏻🩵

45 minutes later, Jenna finally arrived at your apartment. She texted you that you were here. A couple of minutes later, you came down in a gray tank top, gray shorts, and your slides.

“Yo Hollywood” You greeted and helped her out of the SUV. Jenna smiled and wrapped her arms around your waist. It was unexpected but you wrapped your free arm around her back and hugged her tight.

Jenna looked up you with a certain spark in her eyes. You noticed but decided to look away from her.

“Big L, I got you a boil too. You ain’t allergic to seafood right?” You asked.

“Nah I’m not. Appreciate it though” Big L said appreciative and took the bag of food. You nodded in response.

The two of you then head into the apartment complex. You lived on the 6th floor of the building, the nicest floor out the entire building. When you applied for the place, the landlord tried to stick you in a moldy and roaches infested apartment but one of the neighbors put you on game and helped you get this one.

“Welcome to mi casa” You said as you walked into your apartment. It was two bedroom and one bathroom. Their was music softly playing throughout the apartment from your speaker on the counter.

Jenna looked around the thankfully, clean apartment.

“Not bad” Jenna playfully shrugged.

“Yeah it’s not the high rise, plants in the windows, Hollywood type of apartment but it’s something” You chuckled.

Jenna giggled and sat down at the dining table with the food.

“I didn’t get yours with sauce on it. I got it on the side, it’s a Cajun style sauce and it’s a little spicy. I looked up if pregnant woman can eat spicy stuff, they said it was safe but might cause heartburn or indigestion so I also got a lemon garlic sauce too just in case.” You ranted.

Jenna looked at you with admiration in her eyes, “Thank you. I like spicy stuff so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

You smiled and the two of you engaged in a light conversation as you ate. You took the sausages from her bag and you gave her your corn. You also helped her with cracking the crab legs open and showing her how to get the meat in one piece.

You and Jenna finish your food and clean up before sitting on the couch. You sat in the middle while she sat at the end with her back against the armrest and her feet in your lap.

“Are you wishing for a boy or girl?” Jenna asked.

“I’m wishing for a healthy baby. I genuinely don’t care if it’s a boy or girl” You shrugged.

“Good answer. I want a girl though” Jenna said.

“That’s surprising. Most mothers want boys” You said.

“Girls are more fun in my opinion. But either way I’m going to love our child regardless of gender” Jenna stated.

She then sat up, scooted closer, and looked at the number tattoo on your wrist. “What’s this mean?”

“It’s my angel number. 555. It’s means change. Changes are coming and that I shouldn’t be worry or scared just have trust in the process” You explained.

“What about this one?” Jenna said as she pointed to another tattoo. This one was a small writing.

“Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. It was my second ever tattoo. Believe it or not I was a shy kid before my junior year. I used to let people walk over me and bully me and take me for advantage. That was until the last day of sophomore year, I was on the yearbook committee and I had a really good idea but I was too scared and one of the other students stole it and took credit for it. My yearbook teacher pulled me aside one day and told me she knew I was the one that came with the idea. She told me, “you’re never going to get what you want if you never speak up. Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes because you never know who could be listening”. It’s a quote that stuck with me ever since” You explained.

“You had a great teacher” Jenna commented.

“Yeah, she reached out to me a couple of months ago and told me she loved my videos. It was wholesome” You smiled. Your hand start to rub her thigh unconsciously. “What about you? You got any ink?” You asked.

“Nope. I want one though. Maybe for my first one I’ll get our baby’s name behind my ear” Jenna answered. You nodded in response and continued rubbing her thigh. Your eyes kept looking down to her soft lips.

You wanted to feel them on yours, it’s been a minute since you felt any intimacy. You were longing for her soft touch.

Jenna’s eyes traveled down to your hand. She was starting to grow hot. Her hormones making it very difficult to keep in check.

“Jah?” Jenna called out.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response.

“Kiss me” Jenna demanded softly.

You leaned in and connected your lips to hers. Jenna immediately deepened the kiss as soon as she could. She climbed into your lap and her hands were placed on your cheeks. You placed your hands on hips. The kiss was starting to get sloppy and eager.

Jenna pulled away and took off her top leaving her in her navy blue bra. Her lips then latched onto your neck.

“You know…we should…talk about our relationship” You struggled to get out due to the pleasure.

Jenna placed butterfly kisses on your neck until her lips found your pulse. She then began to suck on the area. Your hands gripped her waist tighter and a small hiss escaped your lips. She smirked against you, happy that she found your sweet spot. She continued sucking until she felt satisfied with the hickey she left on your skin.

Your lips connect once more, your tongues clash and you slide your right hand up her back. Your fingers find her bra strap and with one hand you undo it. You help her pull it off your body. This time your lips leaves hers and attach them to her sweet spot. A sigh of pleasure leaves her lips and her hand gets tangled in your hair.

Your left hand grabs onto her slightly larger breast and begins to massage them.

Thank god for this pregnancy.

Your fingers rolling and pleasurably tugging at her hardened nub. The hand in your hair start to scratch at your scalp which felt really good. You take your attention away from her hickey littered neck.

Yikes, her make up person is going to have a field day with that.

Your lips clamp around her nub. Your tongue swipe over it a few times before sucking on it.

“Oh my god” Jenna moaned softly.

You let your teeth graze over it just a tad bit before switching your attention to the other breast. While you were giving her breasts attention, Jenna slipped down a little to sit on your knees before her hand found it’s way into your sweatpants. Her warm hand quickly found their prize. The long and girthy beast that was growing in your pants.

You pull away from her breasts and look into her lust filled eyes. You lifted your hips and pushed your sweatpants along with your underwear off your hips. Jenna got up from your legs and pushed the rest of it off your legs. She got on her knees in front of you.

Her small hand wrapped around your third leg. It jerked in her hand at her touch which she smirked at. She placed small kisses up and down your shaft until she got to the tip. Her tongue circled around it, her eyes never leaving yours. You lick your lips as she takes you into her mouth.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your head fell back against the cushions and your right hand tangle themselves in her hair.

One hand at the base of your shaft and the other rested on your thigh. Jenna started to bob her head up and down. Her muffled moans sending vibrations against your member which made you hiss.

“Damn girl” You hissed and licked your lips. You pushed her head down farther. You were deep in her throat, tears were pooling in her eyes. Jenna then took you fully in her mouth, her nose was touching your pelvic area. Your eyes slightly widened, you can feel her uvula grazing across you. She stayed there for a second, flexing her throat until it got hard to breathe and she pulled you out of her mouth. Her hand continuing to pump your length.

Once she got her breath back, she swallowed you while again. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and helped her bob her head up and down at a fast pace.

You were close, the knot in your stomach started to tighten.

“Fuck Jenna” You moaned.

Her nails dug into your thigh, enjoying the way your tip abused the back of her throat. You start to pant as you got closer and closer. Before you knew it, you halted her head before you felt your length twitch as it emptied into her mouth.

You relaxed into the couch, sweat glistening on your face. Jenna milked you for every last drop before she pulled you out of her mouth. She showed you the thick substance in her mouth before closing it and swallowing.

“Me gusta esa mierda extraña (I like that freaky shit)” You spoke.

“You know even though it’s sexy. It’s not fair when you speak Spanish knowing I have no clue what you’re saying” Jenna pouted.

“Chupa para chuparte fraude (Sucks to suck you fraud)” You shrugged with a chuckle.

Jenna sucks her teeth before standing up. She goes to walk away but you grab her hand.

“I’m joking. I’ll teach you Spanish if you want me too” You said. She stood in front of you. You pulled her down and interlocked your lips again. This kiss you guys took it slow, building the mood again, even though it technically never left. You pulled her pants down her legs until she kicked them off somewhere.

You stood up and hoisted Jenna up. She wrapped her legs around your waist. You walked until her back made contact with the wall in your bedroom. Your fingers pulled her underwear to the side and you ran your middle finger through her folds.

Damn, she was mad wet. She got that WAP.

Your middle finger massaged her clit. A whine left her lips as you flicked her clit and her hand gripped the back of your neck.

“Jah…” She moaned.

Unbeknownst to you, she was close to the edge. Usually, she lasts a lot longer than this. You barely touched her and she was already close to the edge. This pregnancy was making everything heightened.

You pull her from the wall and lay her on the bed. You were on your knees to the side of you, you took her underwear off before you slipped your middle and ring finger inside her.

“Fuck!” Jenna gasped.

Your long fingers worked their magic, quickly finding the rough spongy spot inside her. A loud moan ripped through her as she arched her back. Her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I’m…about to cu-” Jenna choked on her words as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She stilled with her back arched to sky and eyes squeezed shut. There was a pool under her and your hand was soaked to the max.

You were slightly surprised at how fast she came. You didn’t complain though.

“Holy shit, that was intense” Jenna swallowed harshly. She relaxed her body on your bed, her chest was still rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m good at what I do” You smirked.

Exhaustion creeped in and Jenna struggled to keep her eyes open.

“No way I just fingered you to sleep” You laughed.

“Shut up” Jenna mumbled sleepily.

You chuckled as you grabbed some boxers from your drawer and pulled them on. You grab an old T-shirt from your drawer.

“Here put this on” You said and handed her the T-shirt. Jenna lazily put it on while you changed the blanket on your bed. Jenna crawled into your soft queen sized bed and curled up in your blanket.

You locked up your place and put the blanket and her clothes in the wash. Before going back to your room to see Jenna fast asleep. You climbed in the bed and stared up at the ceiling. As soon as you closed your eyes, you felt Jenna scoot closer to you. You turned your head towards her to see her grabbing your hand. You placed your hand in hers and she placed it on her stomach. You turned your body to her, spooning her. She relaxed into your hold and fell back asleep. You soon followed with a big smile on your face.

🤰🏻🩵

It was the next morning, you and Jenna were currently at the obstetrician's office waiting for the doctor to return to do the physical exam. The two of you got to know Dr. Nightngale better and vice versa. Her daughter was a fan of Jenna's which didn't bother or surprise the girl.

When it came down to asking questions about the other parent, Dr. Nightingale was stunned to learn that you were. Questions were thrown at you, which didn't bother you. You were used to people asking questions about being intersex. You were asked questions about it from the minute you could speak full sentences.

When you were younger, you used to go into full details but they got boring real quick. So you opted to tell people a quick summary. Which was 'I was an experiment from Area 51. My father was a spy that fell in love with an alien'. Most people didn't find it funny.

“What to expect when expecting?” You read aloud. It was a pamphlet that you picked up from the front desk. All morning you were reading up on anything related to pregnancy. You wanted to at least have a little bit of knowledge of what’s happening. Plus, it was kinda interesting learning about everything.

“Holy shit” You gasped as you were instantly hit with the sight of a stretched-out vagina…not the kind of stretched you want.

You look at the pamphlet with a disgusted look and then over to Jenna. The girl looking at you with an amused expression.

“I’m so sorry” You apologize to the girl.

A knock on the door was heard and Dr. Nightingale came in.

“Alright, Ms. Ortega and Ms. Jimenez are you guys ready to see your little bundle of joy," Dr. Nightingale asked.

Jenna was laid back in the exam chair with a sheet covering her breasts. Her slightly protruding belly was out in the open. You got up to stand next Jenna and also see the screen. You felt a shaking hand grab yours.

"You okay?" You asked the shaking girl.

"I'm nervous. I'm finally realizing how real this is" Jenna gulped.

"It's normal to be nervous. But I'm right here." You reassured the girl. She gave you a smile and a quick squeeze of your hand. Dr. Nightingale smiled at the interaction between the two of you. She put the gel on the medical instrument.

"Okay, this is going to be cold." Dr. Nightingale warned. She put the instrument on Jenna's belly, who flinched slightly at the sudden coldness of the gel. She moved the instrument around a little before a little body appears on the screen. The room was then filled with a rhythmic thumping.

"Oh my god" Jenna gasped at the screen. Her eyes started to fill up with tears at the sight. You, on the other hand, couldn't stop looking at the screen. You had a huge smile on your face.

"Your baby has a strong heartbeat. You are about 11 weeks pregnant. 2 months almost 3 if you like to go by months. Judging by the date of conception, you are due to give birth on November 28. But there's also a possibility that you could give birth in December" Dr. Nightingale said. She starts to take pictures of the baby.

“A Sagittarius baby…oh lord” Jenna joked.

“Better than a Scorpio” You shrugged.

Dr. Nightingale continued the exam. Everything coming up clear for both the baby and Jenna which you were happy about.

“When are we able to know the gender?” Jenna asked.

“By 14 weeks but I like to do it around 19-20 week mark so it can be accurate” Dr. Nightingale asked.

“What about sex?” You impulsively asked.

“Jah” Jenna sighed and rolled her eyes.

“What? It’s a smart question to ask” You defended.

Dr. Nightingale laughed, “One of the most common questions we get. Sex is completely fine to continue doing. It’s actually beneficial, it can ease discomfort or pain, great for physical health, and a good partner bonding experience. But I would highly recommend still using condoms because STI/STDs are still a thing.”

You smirked and nodded at the response. Jenna just smack your arm as she rolled her eyes.

“Any more questions?” Dr. Nightingale asked.

The both of you shook your heads no.

“Okay, well that is it for today. I’ll see you guys next month. Congratulations to you both” The older woman smiled and left the room. You helped Jenna wipe the gel off her stomach and she puts her shirt back on.

“You know…last night I said something to you. We were kind of busy so I don’t know if you heard me” You said.

“What did you say?” Jenna asked.

“I said we should talk about this. You know…us” You gestured to the two of you.

“What’s there to talk about? We’re just two people who had sex and are now having a baby together.” Jenna shrugged.

You furrowed your face, “Is that how you see us? Just two people having a baby?”

“Not just two complete strangers. Like friends” Jenna said. She watched you as you stared at her with no emotion on your face.

“Friends” You muttered and nodded.

Not gonna lie, the statement hurt you. You didn’t want to be just friends with her. You wanted to be more. You liked her and you thought she liked you too but you guess wrong. You respected her decision though despite the mental pain it brought you.

Just friends…

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu

#Spotify #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #g!p reader #jenna ortega x oc #nycxhollywood

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