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wife-of-all-dilfs · 3 months

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what friends do | f. odair

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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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sguidwards-bestfriend · 3 months

Text

Young Old Things

I like the thought of a deaged Dan causing a misunderstanding between Danny, Vlad, and the batfam.

TW: sexual assault hinted at

....

Danny, Dan, and Ellie go to see Jazz in Gotham. They've been waiting to "visit" her for weeks since she moved out. Only waiting for her to get a big enough place for all of them. Danny already said he'd share a room with Ellie and Dan, especially now that they found out if she is her true age she'll start to stabilize more permanently with Danny's ecto. Plus, having Dan be the same size helps, or so she says (he might be desperate for a new family and Ellie is trying to help, Danny and Jazz never bring it up in front of him).

The Fenton parents don't know about Danny being Phantom, instead believing that some big ghostly event caused Danny to have a ghost daughter.

And that he tried to clone himself mixed with a ghost to use that body to stabilize her. They may be proud of their scientist son, they are not proud that he won't let them experiment on his ghostly "creations".

Of course they are entirely wrong:

Ellie is one of Vlads' attempts to clone him, the only one that survived.

And Dan is an amalgamation of Danny and Vlad from an alternate timeline. He doesn't know why he's keeping that from his parents. He owes nothing to that scumbag, but Jazz says many victims try to keep their abusers safe from facing consequences. Before Dan was deaged, and much before he met the Fenton parents, he'd pointed out that he'd be scared who his parents would have chosen to believe too.

Jazz gets a full ride scholarship with Gotham U, the Wayne's new massive donation to the psychology department, as well as her well written letter about being the head of her home, helped immensely.

She felt bad using a slightly blurred version of their story to get a good scholarship, but Danny pushed her to go for it.

Hence her, Danny and his 3 year old "twins" were at a gala for the university.

It was being held in the museum after closing hours. The invitation she got had specified that her brother was invited, each with a plus one.

They couldn't exactly get a babysitter for two super-powered toddlers in the city known for hating metas. Besides it wasn't like they had time to get dates anyway.

The night started out fine. There were scholarship students, student council members, some Gotham U staff, and a few rich folk mingling and eating tiny foods that both Ellie and Dan adored.

Ellie fell asleep in Danny's arms almost the second she'd finished eating, and Dan was overly protective of the both of them as always. Of course the dense crowd and constant noise wasn't helping calm him down.

A Wayne, he wasn't sure which one exactly, had brought Danny a plate of food and sat with him as he tried to distract Dan. At first Dan didn't care for him at all, but he mentioned reading about the constellation on Dan's shirt and he loosened up. He never let go of Danny's pant leg though.

The night turned sour when all three's ghost sense went off. There was no immediate threat, but even the Wayne kid noticed them tense and turned to the hallway.

Dan was the first to spot him. "Vad."

"Bad?" The man mimicked.

"He has trouble with his Ls."

"No! I can say Ellie." Dan huffed, poking the side of her sparkly green shoe.

"Vlad, the guy that walked in." Danny said, decidedly looking down into his daughter's sleeping face, squished into his shirt and drooling.

"Vladimir Masters?"

He nodded, before he could continue however Dan spoke up.

"He is bad. He's the reason I was born. And Ellie too." Dan put himself in front of Danny, his little legs going over Danny's feet like a guard dog.

He could see the Wayne's hands tighten into fists, he tapped the inside of his wrist a bit and watched as he squirmed in his seat.

"Hey, Tim." Another dark haired light eyed Wayne and a girl came up to them. "Who's this?"

"Danny, these are my sibilings. Dick and Cass. Guys, this is Danny."

"Hi, nice to meet you Danny. I'd shake your hand but it looks busy." He gestured towards Ellie. As his hand swept nearer, Dan tried to swipe it away. "Oh, and who's this."

"I'm Dan. You can't touch Mommy." His little face contorted into his best toddler attempt at scaring them off.

"I would never do that. No one here would." Dick said as he crouched down to be eye level with his son.

"He would." Dan pointed at Vlad, all three turned to look at the man. Before anyone else noticed, specifically Vlad himself, Danny pushed his arm down.

"Don't point, it's rude."

"He's a rude butt." Danny laughed softly and Dan continued. "It doesn't mater that I'm half of him, I'll never be evil like him." He yawned and laid his face on Danny's leg.

"I think that's enough signs that we should head home. Thank you for talking with me, Tim."

"No problem, it was m-"

Dan grabbed around Danny's legs and whined "I don't wanna gooOOOooo. I want more of the tiny hot dogs."

Danny looked up to see Vlad infront of the food table. The Wayne sibilings followed his gaze "I'm sorry buddy, but-"

Tim stood up, "I'll get you guys a whole mountain of the tiny hot dogs. Why don't you guys wait for me at the door." Ever so softly he heard Tim whisper, "Go with them." To his brother.

"Where are your things? I'll help you get ready." Dick looked around like he didn't know where the coat closet was. He'd probably been to events like this hundreds of times, but Danny appreciated the sentiment.

"Their stroller is at the entrance, I have to get my sister though."

The girl who hadn't said a word hummed and went off, "Cass can find her, I'll help you and we can meet at the entrance."

"Alright, thank you."

It wasn't until they had both kids in the stroller with their coats on and Dan had a bottle of milk (with a lot of ectoplasm in it) that Danny realized he'd never mentioned who his sister was.

Dick waved towrds the end of the hall and saw his sister and the two Waynes he'd met walking with Brucie Wayne himself.

Jazz looked down and pat Cass' hand. "Thank you for getting me."

"Danger." Her voice was soft, but she didn't seem shy like he had expected.

"All four of you seemed to get along well with my kids. Would you like to come by for dinner next week?" Brucie asked as he looked between the four of them.

"I'd love to!" Jazz said enthusiastically. "Would Tuesday ight work?"

Danny could see the gears start to speed up in her head and he huffed a little. "Jazz, I need to get them in bed."

"Right, of course. Thank you again, for everything."

"Tuesday night works perfectly," Brucie Wayne said with a massive smile on his face, "we'll send someone to pick you up. Have a good night."

With that they walked down the ramp and down a few blocks to their two bed room apartment.

"Jazz," She looked over to Danny, "I think they know more than they are letting on."

She lent over the stroller a bit to check if the kids were asleep, before adding, "I agree, I think there is something up with them, but I don't think they're bad."

"Dan was okay with them mostly, and Ellie was fast asleep even with then around."

"I guess we'll just have to find out, then. Besides, it would be good for you to make friends your age and not at the car shop."

"Yeah, alright."

#dpxdc #writing #deaged Dan #deaged ellie #deaged dani #i prefer ellie using a name thats a little different #like to show she isnt just a clone #maybe one day Dan will do the same #but he has so much he has to work through and i want to see him get to live a happy life #he was created at the worst moment of both Danny's and Vlad's existence #even if he has some memories of what a family was like through Danny. i dont think he sees those memories as entirely his own #mom danny

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reidmotif · 9 months

Text

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for.

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario.

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous.

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other.

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help. “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.”

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him.

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for.

God, was I wrong.

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile.

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering.

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.”

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic.

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone.

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around.

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right?

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee.

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

“You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me.

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid.

Eventually, this led to the dynamic we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued.

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid?

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself.

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me.

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss.

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted.

“You’re naive!” He shot back.

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.”

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

“Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows.

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this.

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically.

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick.

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in.

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of.

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot.

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness.

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded.

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant.

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously.

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts.

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard.

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious?

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment.

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-”

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him.

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?”

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly.

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his.

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound.

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door.

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze.

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow.

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down.

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head.

“Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions, already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly.

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up.

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here.

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.”

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now.

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before.

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness.

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.”

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment.

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me.

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.”

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face.

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly.

I chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me.

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?”

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer.

“So I hope you��ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses. “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point.

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him.

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound.

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before.

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.” He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy.

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.”

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.”

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips.

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch, beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly.

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely.

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck.

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway.

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind.

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.”

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt.

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words.

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone.

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth.

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible.

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing.

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks.

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes.

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence.

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly.

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.”

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding.

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job.

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me.

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth.

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.”

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while.

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm.

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered.

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.”

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased.

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.”

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #smut #request #spencer reid request #criminal minds fanfiction

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arkhammaid · 2 months

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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE SIREN'S CALL.

fandom. formula one

pairing. oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc: none)

about. y/n is a professional mermaid and oscar is her greatest admirer

content warnings. social media au spanning over a long time, not edited/proofread

notes. i got one of those aesthetic professional mermaid tiktoks on my fyp at like 2am... the idea has been stuck in my head since then lol

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscar piastri and 1'788 others

yourusername Conquering the big seas with my new mermaid tail. Super excited for the big show this weekend🧜‍♀️

mermaidaquilla gorgeous pictures, the color really suits you <3

⤷ yourusername thank you, aquilla 🫶 we need to go for a dive soon!

⤷ mermaidaquilla oh for sure, let me know when you have time :)

user you're incredible, y/n

user oh my god these pictures are insane??

user i can't wait for the show, going to an aquarium just for you!

⤷ yourusername ahh, thank you so much for your support darling 💗

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscarpiastri and 35'023 others

yourusername Happy (future) World Oceans Day! @/mermaidaquilla and I'll be doing a special show on June 8th, streaming on several platforms to raise awareness and money for our oceans 🌊 We await your attendance, tell your friends and family about it!

mermaidaquilla so happy to do this show with you love!

⤷ yourusername me as well, i'm so honored we will do this together 🥹

user oh my god, collab of my dreams finally come true

⤷ user so happy for y/n to be recognized by the bigger creators!

user marking the day on my calendar!

user my daugher loved you in your last show, thank you for brining magic a bit closer to us

user hold on, what is oscar doing in her likes...

⤷ user who??

YOURUSERNAME

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 100'244 others

yourusername I've started diving when I was just a little girl and now my job is my child hood dream... I'm a mermaid and belong to the seas. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received, hopefully to many years to come with Mermaid Y/n 💕🪸

mermaidaquilla your journey is incredible, i admire you so much for your drive, you're the mermaid of my dreams. so happy for you that you've made it love!

⤷ yourusername without you it wouldn't have been possible!! i can only thank YOU for being my biggest supporter since the beginning 💗

user every time i'm blown away by the pictures you post

user thank you for making the mermaid community bigger!

user MOTHER Y/N WE'RE SO PROUD

user mother is mothering FR

user HOLD ON WHY IS THERE A MAN ON THE LAST SLIDE??

⤷ user so i'm not the only one who noticed??? is this an official soft launch????

⤷ user i think so? y/n never posted someone without tagging them..

⤷ user our mermaid found her merman 😭

oscarpiastri Congratulations, y/n. You absolutely deserve it 👏

⤷ user OSCAR COMMENTED!!! I REPEAT, OSCAR COMMENTED!!!

⤷ user oh he's brave

⤷ user you mean more like he finally got his shit together. this is his first comment ever after being a whole year in her likes 💀

OSCARPIASTRI

liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant and 1'983'034 others

oscarpiastri "She's everything and I'm just Ken."

yourusername But you're very good at car, love 🫶

⤷ oscarpiastri At least that 🫡

user OSCAR HAS A GF, I REPEAT, OSCAR HAS A GF AND SHE'S PRETTY!!!

user omg barbie y/n and her clumsy ken, i love this

landonorris congrats mate!

logansargeant FINALLY!

⤷ oscarpiastri You're acting as if we just came together...

⤷ logansargeant Well, it did take you long enough

user my new fav wag

⤷ user fr, no one can beat a mermaid

user HE FINALLY BAGGED THE GIRL!!

⤷ user took him over a year in the likes.. i feel so proud

user hold on... DOES ANYONE REMEMBER LUCY'S THREAD ABT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY IN JANUARY WITH Y/N AS MERMAID

⤷ user WAIT I THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY ONTO SMTH

⤷ user are you saying that 'prince eric' is OSCAR MF PIASTRI???

⤷ user his sister is an icon if this is actually true

⤷ user someone give her an award for the greatest matchmaker of the decade (right after oscar and y/n receiving one of the greatest lovestory of the decade)

⤷ user childhood friends to lovers with a twist (only if the whole thing is true which i'm manifesting rn)

user my god the delusion some people have 💀

taglist.@keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smau #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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psychelis-new · 2 months

Text

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

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pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #divination #love #love message #valentines day #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

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mo-aiki · 3 months

Text

Duke Augustus Swanson of the North

Summary: Your fiance and how he had reacted to your sudden change in behavior. As he looks back on the past, he wonders how long has he seen your smiling face with content and affection.

Warning: obessive behavior, mentions of violence, obvious implications of bullyin, I don't condone it, I just write it

A/N: ART NOT MINE, IT'S THE MALE LEAD OF THE MANHWA SECRET LADY

Connected to Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

For as long as he could remember, Augustus never liked you.

Not a single bit.

The daughter of a count and a generational promise between his grandfather and yours that didn't suffice. His parents were both dead from a carriage accident, and as such, his grandfather took him in and forced him into this marriage. The first time he had met you, he was enchanted by your looks (even if both of you were 8 years old). Your (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes enchanted him, but it soon all came crashing down onto him once your parents left the room, and your true personality was revealed. Even at a young age, he was already being tugged on by young ladies and their families wanting to up their status or rank in noble society, no matter the age. And you were no different in your affections.

Seducing him with sweets.

Yelling at ladies in your way.

"Accidentally" spilling a dark grape juice on a lady's ballgown because he had conversed with her for an hour and found her remotely interesting to talk to.

Trying to talk to him about anything.

Being near him and showing public displays of affection.

Clinging onto a promise, he vowed to break.

He was bored of someone like you. You who were no different than the other ladies who had tried to seduce him. Your mannerisms, your personality, and your ideas, they were all the same to him.

No matter how many times you'd court him, even if it took 5 years to reach, he felt absolutely nothing.

His heart didn't pang, his cheeks and ears didn't flush, his breathing was perfectly normal, and the words out of his mouth cut through like usual.

Nothing would change in your relationship with him. He had planned to break it off and just die alone with no heir or find someone he had mutual interest in.

Nothing will change and he was certain nothing will ever change between the 2 of you.

Until the day you had contracted a deathly high fever.

Augustus was surprised to hear about you 3 days after getting the envelope from your family. He had thought it was you, sending it like you were your father. But his butler forced him to open it.

Dear Young Master Augustus,

I am here to inform you of the cancelation of next Thursday's meeting with my daughter. You see, my daughter has contracted a high fever due to the flu season being prevalent. She is unable to attend the meeting and I would like it if you visit her in order to wish her as speedy recovery. I know that is rather a selfish thing to ask for, but my daughter has been requesting your presence ever since she contracted it. I would like to ask you to please see my daughter and wish for her speedy recovery.

Sincerely,

Count (l/n).

He thought, why not visit. To see you die and his engagement to be break off, would be a euphoric day for him.

He visited you, and was by your side in your room. Pink, frilly and full of girly stuff. He disliked it, but somehow found it cute. You in your lace nightgown, and your face all red but with a cold towel on your head. He had received the news that your fever had been so high, that you had been in a coma now.

He left, because he had nothing else to do there. 'I hope she dies so I can get out of this wretched engagement...' he thought with the coldest stare imaginable.

Your behavior has changed after that fever.

Augustus was not the first one to notice such a change in behavior. Your once smug and arrogant expression, was replaced with a confused and softer one.

It was more bearable.

Everything about you became toned down. Spending time together was less of a pain in the neck, and over time, he started caring about you, little by little.

He started noticing your favorite things, like, for example, your favorite desserts, flowers, places to converse, color, toys, and even down to the accessories you liked to adorn yourself with.

Your cute mannerisms and habits that he can't help but lightly tease at. "Why do you do such things..?" He said, a bit too loud.

"Do what?" You asked, confused.

He wiped away a spot of whipped cream on your cheek and licked it. Watching your face blush in embarrassment was sure worth the move he pulled. Even if he was 13 at the time.

As both of you grew up, he'd soon see how people reacted around you. He sure saw the difference. You turned more beautiful as you matured in age. Your personality grew, and your smile was more bright. He wanted to be the only one to notice these changes and monopolize it for himself, but everyone else around you could now see it. First, your childhood friend. The son of a low ranking Earl. He thought of nothing with him, but he did annoy him. His consistent pestering and hopeless looks made you always include him in your dates.

He absolutely took in the fact that the boy always looked at him with disdain and envy. And he did as well. His close bond with you, and how close he could get to you without you making a fuss, fumed him.

But once you got older, everyone, and he felt everyone started to take notice of you. Men staring at your maturing body with eyes full of lust, women staring with jealousy, children taking notice of your pretty face, and the consistent flirting from everyone, and he felt like everyone.

Men bumping into you, "supposedly on accident," and striking up a conversation, you looked bored in. Women stealing your attention with the gossip of the nobility and even flirting themselves. Children always begging and crying for attention if you did not provide enough for them. He was sick of it.

The son of a small count was always consistently flirting with you. Asking about your day, favorite color, favorite jewels, hobbies, it was almost as if he had forgotten you had a fiance right next to you.

He couldn't help but say a couple of threats towards him, and when that didn't work, he planned for his carriage to be ran into, paying the driver to run away to another country with 10,000 gold paid for him.

But he wasn't the only one. Many men of lowly rank kept on coming, and he threatened them. If that didn't work, they mysteriously died in the next few days. All evidence of the perpetrator, erased from sight.

He could get rid of all of his enemies, but 2. Her childhood best friend and the war hero turned personal guard.

The son of an Earl was sneaky, cunning, and someone whose death would greatly affect her. She would be broken before he ever got the chance to be with her. And the personal guard. A war hero. Someone who is well versed in strength and is not shaken by mere threats he could ever make.

Nothing ever seemed to work to get rid of them, other than the fact that he was your fiancé. So all he needed to do was shower you with love (which he already did and is currently doing). He gives you gifts of jewels, books and stuff for your hobbies, he always has his hand around your waist when out and about. He is always watching what you do. He listen in on your conversations, whether they be rants, boring or awkward small talk. And most of all, he is always here when he can be.

But he was surprised when you all of the sudden brought up annulment.

You had wanted to annul your engagement with him.

He spent all night after such a ground-breaking announcement, awake and thinking of all the possibilities of why you would ever want to break off your engagement with him. All he could think of were the 2 men who were close to you.

"It's all their faults...I need to marry her soon..." he mumbled as he got up and got a paper, pen and his favorite quill.

A/N: Should I do the other guys? This is connected to my previous post so I hoped you enjoyed it. Sorry it took so long to post another story.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere duke x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere duke #yandere x you

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enkaiuminos · 4 months

Text

Your Dream

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Pairing: Monkey D Luffy x Y/N

Content: You remembered the reason why you joined Luffy's crew.

A/n: I thought of this idea at 3AM. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"So Y/N, what is your dream?" Luffy asked you as you both sat on the Sunny's head, the wind blowing through your hair and the sound of waves crashing in the distance.

"Dream?" you repeated, your mind drifting to a distant place.

"Yeah!" Luffy chuckled, "Like I want to be the King of the Pirates!"

You stared out at the vast ocean, searching for an answer to Luffy's question. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing came to mind. The truth was, you didn't have a dream yet, and that uncertainty weighed heavily on your heart.

Growing up with a drunk father and a wicked mother in a country where such circumstances were unfortunately common, dreams seemed like a luxury you couldn't afford.

You yearned for stability and a sense of belonging, which made finding your own dream all the more challenging.

You remembered your father saying to you, "Dreams are for people who aren't able to accept their fate, people who can't accept their destiny in this world."

Days after he had said that, the whole country was set ablaze, killing everyone except you. In the midst of the chaos and devastation, you found yourself standing alone, carrying the weight of your past and the uncertainty of your future.

You thought that you were fated to die with your family, your friends, and your country in order to fulfill your destiny.

That's until you saw a hand stretching towards you in the midst of the rubble and debris, and you thought it was the world telling you to rest. But as you looked closer, you realized that it was a stranger.

The stranger had a straw hat tilted to the side, casting a shadow over his eyes, and he wore a vibrant red vest that stood out against the backdrop of destruction. His grin was infectious, revealing a genuine warmth and a glimmer of mischief that awakened something within you.

"Hey! Are you okay? My name is Monkey D Luffy and I'm going to be the King of the Pirates. You wanna join my crew?" He asked as if he was oblivious to the destruction around him.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

But something in Luffy's unwavering determination and genuine belief in his dream sparked a flicker of hope within you. With a smile on your face, you nodded and took his hand, pulling yourself up off the ground.

As you joined Luffy's crew, you realized that your destiny was not to die with your family and country, but to embark on a thrilling adventure as a pirate.

Maybe your destiny was to be with him. . . .

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

"Y/N," Luffy's voice brought you back to reality as he tapped your shoulder gently. You turned to him, realizing that you had been lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"Yes Luffy?" you asked, mustering the realest smile you could make.

Luffy saw through your fake smile immediately, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" you asked, attempting to deflect his concern.

Deep down, you knew that you couldn't hide your true emotions from Luffy for long.

Luffy replied, "You're crying, and that's not like you at all. What's going on? You can talk to me, you know."

You quickly touched your face and realized that you were actually crying. You tried to wipe away the tears, but they kept coming, betraying the emotions you had been trying so hard to hide. It was as if your tears had a mind of their own, refusing to be held back any longer.

"You know you don't have to keep it in anymore," Luffy muttered, pulling you into a side hug since you were sitting down.

The warmth of his embrace made it impossible to hold back any longer, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely.

As you cried into Luffy's shoulder, you couldn't help but grab the back of his vest tightly for comfort, feeling a sense of relief as you let out all the pent-up emotions that had been weighing you down.

His presence was a soothing balm to your wounded soul, reminding you that you didn't have to face your struggles alone.

You are my dream, you thought but you would never dare to say it to him.

In that moment, as you cried into Luffy's shoulder, you realized that he had become more than just a friend to you. Your heart longed to express your feelings, but the fear of rejection held you back.

As the tears subsided and you found solace in Luffy's embrace, exhaustion finally caught up with you. You didn't even notice when you started to drift to sleep, your head resting on Luffy's shoulder, knowing deep down that you were safe and protected in his presence.

"Luffy!- Oh, I didn't know you were busy," a voice said behind us, but you didn't move.

Even though you were half asleep, you could still recognize Nami's voice from a mile away. Despite feeling vulnerable in that moment, you trusted Luffy to handle the situation and protect you, so you remained in his embrace, knowing that he would shield you from any harm.

"It's okay, what do you need," Luffy asked, turning his head round to glance at Nami. His voice was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you felt in that moment.

"We're approaching a new island,"

You felt his head turn toward you as he made a low, thoughtful humming sound, the vibrations of it soothing your tired mind.

"I don't see it,"

"The island is covered by an invisible barrier and. . . ." Nami started but stopped with hesitance, unsure of how to continue.

"What is it?" Luffy's tone changed to being serious once hearing Nami's hesitance, his brows furrowing as he prepared himself for the potential danger that lay ahead.

"The island," Nami repeated. "It's the same one that destroyed Y/N's country."

Luffy's grip on you tightened slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. "We won't let that happen again," he said firmly, his voice filled with determination. "We'll just face whatever danger awaits us and protect her." . . .

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆

Part 2? Comment if you want it. Please support by reblogging, liking and sharing!

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starkwlkr · 1 year

Note

Hi can you write a verstappen reader x charles where they're dating in secret but max founds out and he gets mad, you can work out the story, maybe a lot of angst but a happy ending, I love your writing.

friends don’t kiss friends | charles leclerc

btw max and charles hate each other in this so i apologize in advance for all the lestappen fans <3

Max would kill Charles. No, he was going to kill Charles. It was an exaggeration, but it would probably come true.

Y/n Verstappen knew her true feelings. She knew what she wanted and what she wanted more than anything in the world was to be with Charles. He was caring, loving, the perfect man in her eyes. But Max would never allow his older sister to be with him.

So they saw each other in secret.

Max had almost caught the couple once. He had stopped by his sister’s apartment in Monaco and saw Charles’ Ferrari parked outside. When he knocked on the door, Charles opened it thinking it was the food they had ordered.

“Y/n, it’s your brother.” Charles called out to his girlfriend. “Excuse me mate, go to go.”

“Leaving so soon?” Max asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a family lunch tomorrow. Good to see you.” Charles said coldly.

Y/n appeared, having changed from Charles’ shirt to one of her own. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.” Y/n said to Max, who was busy glaring at Charles.

“I didn’t think I’d have to. You’re my sister.” Max replied. “I was just about to ask Charles here why he could come over but I can’t.”

Charles’ heart started beating faster. What was he supposed to say? Confess to their secret relationship? ‘Hey, by the way, I’m having sex with your sister!’

“I asked him to.” Y/n spoke. “He mentioned he wanted to make something for his family lunch tomorrow so I told him he could borrow my book where I keep all my recipes.”

“Then where’s the book?” Max asked.

Y/n then brought out a book she had been hiding behind her back. She then handed it to Charles. “He was just leaving, Max.”

Charles grabbed the book. “Thank you.” Was all he said before he walked to his Ferrari. Once inside, he watched Max start to argue with Y/n. He started feeling guilty knowing he was the cause of it.

He wanted to be able to kiss Y/n in public, hold her hand, take her on dates. He was sure Y/n wanted that too, but if she ever revealed that she was dating her brother’s rival, the name Verstappen would no longer belong to her.

After that day, Charles was more careful when he visited Y/n. Instead of taking his Ferrari, he would order an Uber to her apartment. Sometimes he would spend the night because Y/n convinced him to. (And also because those were the nights Max wasn’t in Monaco so they didn’t have to worry about him coming over)

Y/n was happy with Charles. He treated her with respect, she did the same to him. Their love was real, something Max would have trouble understanding.

When Max finally found out, he refused to talk to his sister. It was during the inaugural Miami Grand Prix. Y/n had watched her brother win the race while her brother came in second. It was a good weekend so far. When the podium ceremony came, instead of wearing hats, they were given football helmets. Y/n laughed at Charles, who found her in the crowd of people and winked at her.

After the ceremony, she made her way to the Red Bull Garage. She wanted no more than to celebrate both Charles and Max, but that would never happen. When Max found her, he grabbed her forcefully by the arm and dragged her to his driver’s room, ignoring her insults she had thrown at him.

“You fucker! You’re hurting my arm!” Y/n punched Max’s shoulder, trying to get him to let her go. Finally, they reached the room where Max had let her go and closed the door behind them. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“How long has this been happening?” Max asked.

Y/n saw the look in Max’s eyes. He was furious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said.

“Don’t act dumb. How long have you been sleeping with him? Days? Weeks?” Max threw his 1st place football helmet to the ground.

“It’s my life. You don’t get to control who I see!” Y/n tried to leave, but Max held her back. “Let me go!”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why him?” Max asked. He felt betrayed.

“I’m not doing anything to you. He loves me.” Y/n defended the love of her life.

“Does he?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know him. I know how he is, how he thinks and he’s the worst.” Max went on.

“Well I know him too and I know he would never hurt me. But you are. You’re my brother, Max.” Y/n felt a tear go down her cheek.

Max shook his head. “You’re not my sister.”

Those words hit Y/n hard. Why wouldn’t they? Max was always there for her, cared for her, loved her. That day, Y/n and Max stopped talking.

When Charles found Y/n, she was a crying mess. She had explained everything to him.

“He hates me. He said I’m not his sister anymore.” Y/n cried to Charles in his driver’s room.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay. You’ve got me and my family. They love you more than anything. We’re going to be okay.”

Charles kept his word. The Leclerc family became her own. When she attended races, the Ferrari garage became her home instead of the Red Bull garage. She would sometimes pass by it, but never looked inside or asked for Max. They were strangers now.

Y/n spent all the holidays, birthdays and anniversaries with the Leclercs. Soon enough, she was planning a wedding with Charles.

“The invitations came in.” Y/n told Charles as she showed him the wedding invitations she had custom made.

“They look great, mon amour.” Charles kissed her cheek. “Lorenzo and I are going to take Arthur suit shopping. He says he can’t find the right one. I’ll be back soon.”

Y/n nodded and kissed Charles’ lips. After he left, Y/n was all by herself in their shared apartment. She picked up an invitation and stared at it. She was finally going to get married. But of course something was missing, or rather someone. She still wasn’t in contact with Max. Sure they were at the same events all year, but they never asked for each other. She missed him everyday.

When they were younger, Y/n always thought Max would attended her wedding. He would be by her side, dance with her, but none of that was happening.

Yet.

Charles hated lying to his fiancée. He hated it with a burning passion, but he knew he had to to something about Max. Truth was, Arthur had found his suit the day after Charles and Y/n announced their engagement. Now Charles stood in Max’s apartment. Kelly had let him in while Max had just gotten out of the shower.

“What are you doing here? Did you let him in?” Max asked Kelly.

“She did. I’m here to talk to you about Y/n.” Charles said. “We’re getting married.” Kelly excused herself and left the two men to talk.

“And you want me to congratulate you?” Max scoffed.

“No, I’m here to invite you to the wedding. She’d want you there believe it or not. She does care about you, Max—”

“Then why did she have to fall in love with you? She could’ve had anyone and she chose you.” Max interrupted. “She chose you over her own family.”

“She didn’t. You disowned her. You left her hurt. She cried every night for three weeks and guess who was there? Me. I love her and if you can’t see that then you’re obviously blind as shit.” Charles dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “That’s the address.” He put it on the coffee table.

“What? No proper invitation?” Max rolled eyes eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

The day of the wedding finally came. Y/n couldn’t wait to call Charles her husband. She stood in front a full length mirror admiring her white dress. Pascale had helped her with her hair while she applied her makeup.

“Thank you again, Pascale.” Y/n said to the older woman.

“You look beautiful. Charles is going to cry when he sees you.” Pascale smiled. As Y/n looked at herself in the mirror, Pascale heard a light knock on the door to the dressing room. The Leclerc woman walked to the door and slightly opened it thinking it was Charles trying to take a look at Y/n’s dress. She was surprised to see Max in a suit.

Pascale looked back at Y/n, who was too busy fixing her veil. She then turned to Max. “Does she know?” Max shook his head. Pascale sighed and asked Max to wait. She closed the door and walked back to the bride. “ma fille, there is someone here to see you.”

Pascale’s words made Y/n froze. She could only think of one person. She turned to face Pascale. “He can come in.” She nodded at the woman.

As Pascale went to let Max in, Y/n started to take deep breaths. Was she actually ready to face Max? She didn’t know. Was it even a good idea for him to be there? Again, she couldn’t tell.

“I’ll leave you two alone. I’m going to check on Charles.” Pascale excused herself and left the room.

Y/n had her back turned to Max, only this time she was looking at him through the mirror. “You look dumb.” She said.

“So do you.” Max replied with a dry laugh. “You look pretty.” He cleared his throat.

Y/n laughed. She knew how Max was when trying to compliment someone else. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, well your future husband insisted I come. He told me you care about me.”

“I didn’t stop, Max. You’re my brother.” Y/n finally turned around to face him. “Why do you hate Charles so much? He makes me happy.”

“I guess I didn’t want you to leave me.”

Y/n’s heart broke. Everyone knew how hard Jos Verstappen was on his children, especially Max. Over the years, Max had gone to his older sister for comfort, something Jos was unfamiliar with.

“I know it’s selfish of me. You can hate me all you want, hate me until you die, but I just want to say I’m sorry for everything I ever did and said to you. You’re always going to be my sister.” Max confessed.

Y/n wiped away a tear. “I don’t hate you and I’m not going to hate you until I die. You’re so fucking dramatic.” She laughed through her tears.

“I can leave if you want me to. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.” Max nodded. He was about to leave the room when Y/n spoke once again.

“Stay.”

The wedding was the most beautiful wedding Max had ever attended. He sat next to Charles’ brothers. As he looked at Charles and Y/n, he felt proud of the life his sister had made.

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest announced. Charles didn’t have to be told twice. He kissed Y/n as if it was the last time they would ever kiss. To them, it was like they were the only ones in the room.

“You know, Y/n once told me her and Charles were just friends.” Max whispered to Arthur, who lightly laughed. “Friends don’t kiss friends.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #ferrari f1 #verstappen!reader #charles leclerc imagine

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jaylaxies · 11 months

Text

CONFLICT OF INTEREST

PAIRING: pool cleaner!heeseung × rich fem!reader

GENRE/CW: slightly perv!heeseung, profanities, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight voyeurism, mentions of sunghoon, slight public sex, fingering and cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames and degradation.

WC: 6.7k (6701) words

SYNOPSIS: spending all his money on video games, heeseung was left with no other choice but to work part time to earn some extra cash, he was overwhelmed to find out how much your father was willing to pay for a pool cleaner, grabbing that opportunity and applying for the same, not knowing that he’d be dealing with a spoiled little princess, who’s also a feast for his eyes.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: ohmygod hello everyone, guess who’s back after the longest break ever! i missed writing so much and i couldn’t come back here without a fic for y’all sooo have this lil gift from me! <3 also thankyou sm @criceofpain for helping me w the title! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are so highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <33

Silence.

That’s all you heard after waking up from your cozy sleep. Living in a mansion like yours would be everyone’s dream. Having rich and working parents only added on to that, giving others a misconception of how your life would be full of freedom.

You had more than fifteen rooms in your ‘small mansion’, three of them being reserved for the stay-in staff. They felt more like family to you than your own family did, your parents being absent whenever you needed them the most, you could count the times you saw them in a year.

Which brings you back to how you developed the need to be a brat — to grab your parent’s attention. It started off when you were a kid, stayed as you grew up into an adult, coming to a stage where you completely disregarded other’s feelings, not having in you to pay attention to them.

Being called a ‘rich brat’ was something you’d grown accustomed to, no one tried to get close to you in order to find your true personality, they only came for money and a short lived reputation of being your ‘friend’.

“You have to stop texting while eating, darling,” your mother’s voice boomed up in the expansive area of your dining room.

The irk in her usual dulcet voice was enough for you to understand that her current tone was laced with disappointment, your father barely speaking anything as usual, plausibly not finding you important enough to waste his energy on.

You simply hated when your parents were back at home, invading your personal space, it was one of the rare times they came back without much of an announcement, ruining your whole week, knowing they’d pass comments which would lead to massive breakdowns and again, not a single soul would help you through it, you’d be alone, as always.

Instead of eating, you found that playing with your spoon and salad would be a better option, your appetite leaving the second you learned about your parent’s arrival.

They were quick eaters, leaving you to eat by yourself soon after ruining your day. You sighed, getting up to shower, punching the hard tiled wall to release your pent up frustration, secretly hoping to find someone who’d care for you genuinely, unlike your parents who did so superficially.

The weather was rather breezy, clouds covering up the sky, resembling your mood in a manner. You were quick to dress up in your newest Chanel outfit, matching it with the perfect pair of heels you could find in your never ending walk-in closet.

Dressing up was therapeutic for you. It gave you confidence to portray yourself just how you’d wanted to, strong and bold, not requiring anyone’s support.

Isa:

Let’s skip the first lecture today :3

You:

Can’t, my parents are back at home, and if they find out abt me leaving the class thennn :)

Isa:

Babe oh no, I’ll save you a seat and get a frappe for you :(

You:

You’re an angel truly, mwah <3

You smiled, locking your phone and getting into your car, deciding to drive by yourself today. Isa was your best friend and you’d swear she was the only person who understood you on the spiritual basis, having gone through the same story of having absentee parents.

The difference would be your personality, hers being sweet and bubbly, yours being bratty and intimidating. You complemented each other perfectly.

The guards opened the gate to your mansion for you to drive away, your eyes rolling at the sight of a poster mentioning how your family needed a pool cleaner.

“Why did they build three pools if they couldn’t even maintain it, bet they haven’t once used it,” you muttered under your breath.

You didn’t notice a boy stopping by to read the very same poster just as you drove away.

He was quick to click a picture of the very same, making sure he doesn’t forget the details given below, walking further towards the mansion adjacent to yours, waiting in front of the huge gate which opened up as his friend came into view with his car, asking him to get inside the car quickly.

“The fuck were you waiting for there? We’re late already!” Sunghoon asked, running his hands through this hair as he stepped on the accelerator.

“I’m broke,” Heeseung explained, causing Hoon to laugh out of nowhere.

“Yeah? Spent all your money on video games again?” He asked, amused.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “yeah, but it was a limited edition and I had to get it!” He argued, “and now my parents have decided to not give me pocket money for the whole month. I’ll have to earn it someway or the other.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were standing in front of Y/n’s place.”

“Y/n? I don’t know, I saw this poster saying that they needed a pool cleaner and the amount they’re willing to pay is huge,” he explained, already deciding that he’ll apply for it the first thing after school.

“You don’t know her? Where the fuck are you living dude?” Hoon gave him a look.

“What’s so special about her? Is she hot?” Heeseung asked, looking at Hoon who shook his head in disappointment at his friend before simply smirking.

“You’ll see.”

Heeseung wondered if he’d get to see you today. The chances were high with the onset of summer vacation, you’d be at home, however he wasn’t sure if you’d come into his spectrum of vision, he always seemed to miss you by a minute or two.

He was at your place, the guard allowed him to enter and guided him towards the pool area.

He was in shorts and a casual T-shirt as his job would most definitely cause him to get wet while getting the pool cleaned.

His lips were bitten in concentration as the house helper guided him as to how to go on about his task, and soon, he was whistling while waiting for the water to be drained out after he used the net to get the leaves and the particles floating around on the water surface.

He decided to sit down on the sunlounger while waiting, scrolling down Instagram to catch up on the posts he had missed.

You were in your room, sighing for the umpteenth time. You hated the atmosphere in your home, it was tense as your parents had fought early in the morning about tarnishing the family reputation.

Ironic coming from them.

Both of them stormed out of the home soon, wanting a break from the other, leaving you all to yourself for the day.

Seeing as you had nothing better to do at the given moment, you opted to go for a swim in the pool as you put on a black one piece swimsuit, taking your sunscreen bottle along with the few things you’d need there.

However, you did not expect to see a stranger casually sitting in one of your sun loungers by the biggest pool as the water drained out, just like the plan you had for swimming.

Ignoring the new addition to your leisure time, you went ahead to sit by the second pool, which was already cleaned by the old cleaner you had hired, the one who left the job out of nowhere.

The water was lukewarm when you dipped your legs in it, kicking the water softly, which gained the attention of the boy in shorts.

His whistling stopped as he stared at your side profile from a distance, eyes taking in your figure which was clad in black which fit you well, he gulped, his tongue swiped down his lower lip when his eyes stopped to look at your legs, and how glossy and plump your lips looked in the sunlight, the light breeze swayed your open hair and how your hands look so small compared to his, making him wonder how they’d look holding his—

You turned your head to look his way, eyes sharp which was enough to break his train of thoughts, feeling as if you were being stared at, he turned his head in record time to avoid your gaze, and you noticed he was just using his phone.

Shrugging, you got up to get on one of the sun loungers with an umbrella to put on your sunscreen, missing the way Heeseung’s eyes flickered over to you from time to time as he concluded the cleaning process to fill up the freshwater now.

Your skin glowed with the extra moisture from the sunscreen but he noticed how you struggled with rubbing it on your back.

His hands itched to do that for you, he couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire time he was at your place, but what bothered him is that you didn’t look up at him even once, until he got into the stalls and came out after changing into his decent outfit as his shorts had gotten wet from the water.

It was the exact time you got up to get into the newly cleaned pool, “good work—” you started to say.

Heeseung was shocked, he never pegged you to start a conversation, nevertheless, a little smirk settled on his face when he turned around to see your pretty face up close, “Heeseung,” he finished your sentence, “and thank you.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, looking at his face clearly for the first time since he arrived.

He had the most perfect nose you had ever come across, his lips looked delicate and pink, his eyes summing up his face to look innocent, and hair shiny yet messy.

It seemed as if you had eye candy for the job of the pool cleaner.

Without extending the conversation, you got into the pool, soaking up your body fully before you started to swim.

Heeseung stood there watching you shamelessly, hand in his pocket as you stopped to swim closer to the edge, water dripping down your chin as your looked up at him in question, “you can leave now,” you said, but the smirk he had on his face was enough to confirm that his innocent looking eyes are deceiving in all ways.

“I’m just waiting for the helper aunt to get my pay for the day,” he said innocently.

You almost scoffed, “go wait by the front gate,” you said, pointing towards the exit area with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“The view isn’t as nice there,” he nonchalantly said.

“Excuse me?” You said in a beat, looking at him with disbelief.

“I meant, the palm trees and the flowers here are better than the fountain near the gate area, also, the helper aunt asked me to wait here,” he shrugged, acting as if he was naive.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, “she’s here now you can leave,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, resuming your swimming session.

He tried to contain his laugh, it was already fun to tease you, not to mention how you looked so attractive when wet, in the water of course.

“Good bye then,” he winked at you before leaving.

You watched his long legs quickly getting away from the pool area.

“What a creep,” you muttered, already planning ideas to get him off his high horse.

You were sunbathing the next day, not once thinking that Heeseung would come again, but he did.

He wore a deep grey tank top and black shorts as he focused on cleaning the two smaller pools.

Thankfully, he wasn’t much of a bother that day, he simply did his work, after greeting you with a slick smile, of course.

It was clear that he stopped to stare your way from time to time, you wore dark tinted goggles just to catch him doing so, scoffing before you went inside your room, not having it in you to deal with him.

You loved to swim, it was a major stress reliever for you, the next two days were peaceful for you, your parents were out of town and there was no trace of Lee Heeseung at your place.

Sunghoon had visited you that night, inviting himself in for dinner, wanting to check up on you after hearing the news about your parents arrival.

“—They’re driving me insane, I could be simply breathing, and they would say that I am breathing wrong, I have no clue how to deal with this and I am so tired already, not to mention how the new pool cleaner is so infuriating.” You groaned, finishing up your rant as you filled him in on everything that happened ever since your parents came back.

His eyebrows raised at your last comment, “the new pool cleaner, huh?” He chuckled.

You nodded, taking a bite of the pizza you had ordered, “his name is Heeseung, he’s like an actual creep, he stares at me while working, I literally cannot go to swim whenever he’s around,” you ranted.

“Trust me I know him,” Sunghoon rested his forehead on his hand, not believing that Heeseung would actually act so shamelessly, yet it was comedic in a way.

“You do?” You asked.

“He’s my closest friend, Y/n.” Sunghoon was amused how both you and Heeseung didn’t know about each other up until he started working for you, “you’d know if you liked me even a bit,” he smirked, and looked crazy handsome doing so.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, glad that Sunghoon was here to lighten up the mood, “I didn't know you had such friends.” Distaste was clear in your voice.

“He’s not a bad guy, okay? He’s just—” Hoon stopped to find the right word.

“Just?” You urged him to continue.

“Just stupid at times, yeah,” he shook his head.

“Right,” you said, laughing.

“If he bothers you, just punch him or whatever,” he said casually.

Maybe you’ll take up on Sunghoon’s advice on that.

The next few days were peaceful, headphones shutting out the world as you completed your holiday assignments sitting at the poolside area with your laptop in front of you, yet he had something or the other to say.

“Oh, you’re doing the assignments already?” He asked over your headphones, speaking loud, standing next to your seat.

You nodded, not giving him the time of your day.

“Do you need help?” He couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Does it look like I want help?” You asked, removing your headphones and shades.

“Honestly? Your essay looks pretty perfect as of now—” he started to comment.

“That was a rhetorical question,” you deadpanned, closing your laptop and going back inside.

You knew he wasn’t this dumb, he just did it on purpose to piss you off, for your attention, just like how you behaved outrageously when you wanted your parents attention.

But Heeseung? He needed to be taught a lesson and that too, very soon.

“No, I can’t come tonight Isa, my parents want to have dinner together like a good family. Isn’t that funny?” You talked to your best friend on call, sitting by the pool yet again.

Your parents were the reason you couldn’t go out of the house anymore, they wanted you to be home, spending quality time with them, which consisted of you being judged for your every move, your parents wanting your mannerism to be proper.

“Can’t they just leave already?” You sighed as Isa tried her best to console you, saying that she’d be there whenever you’d be allowed to go out.

That call definitely heightened your spirits until someone decided to pay your pools a visit again.

One of the helpers had told you that Heeseung wasn’t working today, so you wore your comfortable two piece bikini for the swim, which you deeply regret now.

Heeseung simply wanted to see you, he loved pissing you off, knowing how much his presence bothered you.

That only made him want to do it more.

“Hey, Y/n!” He smiled your way, his perfect set of teeth coming into your vision as you looked up from the magazine you were reading, only to give him a light lipped smile with a nod.

He looked at you in amusement as you didn’t bother to spend a second more looking his way, opting to read your magazine instead.

He was particularly talkative that day, trying to get a reaction out of you but you were patient, not giving in easily until you couldn’t hold back and decided to play his game.

“Do you need help with that?” Heeseung asked, pointing towards the sunscreen which you couldn’t apply properly on your back again, he had noticed how your hands couldn’t reach your back in particular.

He just wanted an excuse to touch your soft looking skin.

Bonus for him, you were wearing a bikini which gave him access to your bare back.

He waited for a witty comeback or straight up rejected but your reply wasn’t something he was expecting, eyes widening just a fraction.

“Oh, yes! Could you please help me put sunscreen on my back?” You looked sincere as you requested this.

“Y—yes, of course I’ll help you, princess,” he smiled after overcoming the shock, rushing to wash his hands clean, despite them being clean already before he came over to you.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he saw you sitting down on the sunlounger with your back exposed to him.

He wasn’t being subtle while staring at your ass either, he was simply glad you were facing the other way as he took some sunscreen and started massaging your shoulders, applying the right amount of pressure.

You bit your lip, hating how good his hands felt massaging your body, but you had it under control.

He took his sweet time rubbing your back, before he reached your lower back. He was having the time of his life, your skin felt even softer than he had imagined and he was surprised about how you didn’t pass any comment throughout this.

Him being sneaky was the exact thing you were waiting for, his hand reaching close to your chest after he applied cream to your clavicle region.

You turned around and grabbed his wrist, bending it down and pulling him close enough to be on your face level, you stopped your mind from accepting how good it felt, you simply hated Heeseung.

“Ouch, fuck,” he cussed, not expecting you to be this strong, the pain subsided in a second as he looked you up close, your scent infiltrating his mind.

“Don’t play with me, Heeseung,” you said in a deeper octave, looking right into his eyes.

He smiled, which only urged you to continue.

“Do you have no shame? I’ll have you fired if you pull this shit again,” you warned him, letting go of his hand and standing up to leave.

However, he was quick to grab your wrist and spin you around, so you bumped right into his chest, which was hard.

“What the fuck—” you exclaimed but your voice died down soon.

His hand reached to the one spot on your neck which had sunscreen that wasn’t spread properly. He simply bit his lip and used two of his fingers to massage that spot on your neck.

It must have been your sensitive spot because your legs suddenly felt like they were jelly, your breathing quickened as you stared at his annoyingly attractive face.

“All done,” he whispered in your ear, leaving your wrist as he only smirked, walking back to do his work, leaving you stunned as you rushed inside due to embarrassment.

No fucking way you enjoyed those ten seconds with him.

As for Heeseung, he couldn’t stop thinking of how hot you looked, trying to be angry but being a mess in his presence, just thinking about your expression and your outfit together gave him a boner.

“Y/n,” he groaned with one hand on the shower wall, supporting his tall frame as the other squeezed his dick, jerking off to your thoughts, “oh god, fuck!” He grunted, thinking about how tight you’d feel around him, the scenarios were enough for him to shoot out his load, smirking at the ideas in his head.

He just needed to push you more.

The events of that day replayed in your mind an unhealthy amount of times, you never wanted to see him again, yet you wanted the exact same thing.

You hated it.

You hated how good it felt, having his big hands on your body and you most certainly didn’t have it in you to face him today.

All you wished for was to read a book in peaceful silence, but yet again, your space was invaded when a certain Bambi eyed boy made an appearance at your place, despite it not being the day of his schedule.

Still, he had the audacity to greet you before he started singing while doing his tasks for the day.

The infuriating part? His voice was a mixture of honey and chocolate, and everything sweet in this world because you had never heard a voice to angelic before.

Not that it was enough to woo you.

Sighing, you closed your book and decided to go for a swim, but again, you were stopped.

“Wait!” Heeseung exclaimed, bringing out the cleaning net to get rid of one leaf that was in the huge pool, looking back at you with a goofy smile as he held the leaf up.

“Okay. So, you stopped me from going in because of a leaf?” You folded your arms on your chest as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Couldn’t let a princess swim in the dirty pool,” he said, eyes getting bigger, feigning innocence.

He was a nuisance and you were running thin on patience. Your mother had graciously spoiled your day saying your manners are out of line, your father added to it, talking about how vacations were a waste of time for you.

“Aw, really?” You asked, faking your voice to sound sweet and thankful before you took a step close to him.

His eyes looked at you expectantly, but yet again, you pulled something he wasn’t ready for.

With a big smile on your face, you pushed him into the pool, hard and fell down with a big splash.

“Oops,” you said once he came out of the water, brushing his wet hair away as he breathed hard, his clothes clinging on to his body.

He looked hot.

You tried not to look at his body as you bent down to talk to him, “aw, now you’ll have to clean the whole pool, it’s so disgustingly dirty now that you’re in there.” You smiled innocently.

He poked his tongue through this cheek and gave you no time before grabbing onto your arm and pulling you right in with him.

You gasped for air, your whole body getting soaked with water as you came out just in front of him, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Are you insane?” You almost screamed at him but he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer with a serious expression on his face.

You could see his face with the top most clarity up close, his wet hair messily covering his forehead and eyes, still he looked attractive.

“Is this what you do when someone tries to help you, princess?” His voice came out deeper and his hold on you tightened.

You were glad that there were no helpers around the pool area or you would die of embarrassment, not to mention how your parents would react knowing about this situation.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you whispered in the same tone, maintaining the eye contact.

“Yeah, right you think of yourself as the queen,” he went on.

“Stop,” you warned.

“But in reality you’re just a pretty, spoiled princess, aren't you?” He taunted in a voice that gave you goosebumps.

Giggly Heeseung was attractive enough, but him being serious was something that had you in a trance.

“Shut up,” you said in a measly voice, head fuzzy.

“Do I need to show you who you are, huh? You’re a little princess,” he went on.

“Shut the fuck up,” you raised your voice, the feeling down in your lower abdomen was something you hadn’t felt so strongly before.

“Make me,” was all he said with a smirk.

Yet what you did next was something he wasn’t prepared for.

It all happened in less than a second, your fingertips grabbing his chin, pulling him closer to your face with a gasp as you captured his lips into a rushed kiss, his nose poking yours softly.

This man drove you crazy, to the point where you had to give in just to get a taste of him.

He leaned back to look into your eyes, breaking the kiss just to see you breathe in deeper and shy away, but he didn’t let you do that.

His hand rested on the back of your head as he pulled you into a deeper, passionate kiss, causing you to whimper in his mouth, holding on to his shoulders for support.

You gasp as his hands roam around your body, leaving the places where you wanted him to touch you the most, the frustration causing you to moan into his mouth, against his smirk.

It was a rhythm of desire, passion, and exasperation. The kiss got sloppier by second and you both had to lean back to breathe. With your chest heaving up and down, you dared to look into his eyes which were clouded with lust.

Each touch, each movement from his side impacted your body in a way you never thought it would, you shivered with his touch, the smirk never leaving his lips.

“So sensitive,” he muttered, trailing his finger down your body as you still held on to him, your legs felt weaker than ever.

“Heeseung—” you tried to speak up, but only a moan left your mouth when he traced his finger on your clothed pussy.

“Guess what, princess? You’re wet,” he pointed out, coming closer to bite your ear, causing you to squirm in his hold, “and it’s not because of the water.”

“Fuck,” you let out, mind going blank.

You loved being in control, putting people in their places and ordering them around. But you never thought that being treated like this would arouse you to this point.

To the point that you’d let Heeseung do anything.

He took you out of the pool, dragging you to the changing stalls, pushing you against the door after he locked it.

“You look so innocent, I could ruin you,” he said, folding his long fingers around your neck, applying slight pressure to it.

“I know,” you spoke mindlessly and Heeseung was amused at how easily you gave in.

“Yeah? No snarky comebacks or threats this time?” He teased.

“I’m leaving,” you said, embarrassed and trying to get away with your face burning with shame, but again, it wasn’t up to you as Heeseung pushed his body closer to yours, sandwiching you between him and the wall.

“You’re not going anywhere, darling,” he whispered, pushing your bikini panties to the side.

His fingers teased at your entrance and you unconsciously bucked your hips to meet him. He grabbed your hips to stay still before moving his fingers on your wet slit again, poking his finger on your entrance yet not letting it slide in fully to your dismay.

“Please,” you whined louder than before.

“Please what, princess?” He stopped moving his fingers all together just to hear your reply.

“Please fuck me,” you let out slowly, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“That’s a good girl, but sadly you won't get it so easily,” he said and without any warning, he pushed a finger inside your pussy, which was wet and needy and it sucked him in.

His deep grunts only turned you on more, his hard clothed cock rubbing against your ass as he tore your bikini away, adding another finger to fill your pussy, reaching a deep spot which had you seeing stars.

Your glossy eyes followed his fingers as he sniffed it, “smells so sweet,” he said in a deep breath, giving you goosebumps, his tongue swirled around, tasting your juices and humming along.

“Oh baby you’re dripping,” he smirked, getting on his knees, putting one leg on his shoulder as he wasted no time in indulging himself in eating your sweet pussy, tongue lapping at your juices and you had to bite your fist to contain your noises.

You were so close.

His finger teased your clit to heighten the stimulation, and it worked wonders as it had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, whimpering and crying.

You reached your limit when he pushed his tongue into your hole, a loud moan leaving your lips as he went on to eat you out.

“Hee—oh my god,” you cried out, falling apart on his tongue, and he lapped up the last drop of the juices you had spilled.

You looked at him, looking sinister, his lips shining and eyes glistening with amusement as he grabbed your chin and kissed you right on mouth, giving you a taste of yourself.

You rubbed his cock through his shorts, getting a scoff out of him, “not so fast, princess. You’ll have to show me how much you want it. I’ll go take care of it till then and clean your pool, which is oh so disgusting.” He smirked, getting out and into the showering stall, leaving you dazed and wet.

You had to have his cock.

You wouldn’t admit how much you had wanted him to fuck you directly to his face, so instead, you decided to be a menace and show him what he’s been missing.

He came back after two days, just as the schedule of his job. And it was a lucky day for you since half of the working staff had been granted a holiday today, leaving you with only the chefs and a security guard who wouldn’t ever come into the pool area.

Heeseung’s duality scared you, he came in as usual, wearing a blank tank and shorts this time, greeting you with a smile, “morning, princess,” he smirked, yet looked innocent.

“Hey, Hee,” you purposely called him a nickname, causing his smile to grow before he looked at your bikini top, which was not tied properly and showed more skin than usual.

You knew that would get his attention.

Standing up, you stretched your arms and started walking towards him, your movement caused the knot to open up fully, your tits coming into display for him.

It was so attractive how his jolly and innocent eyes turned dark within a second, but you only giggled, pushing his limits, “oops, i guess the knot wasn’t tied properly, can you help me, Hee?” You asked with a smile.

He scoffed, “that desperate for my cock?” He asked, biting his lower lip.

“I’m just asking for help,” you tried to reason and hide your guilty smile.

“Such a pathetic needy thing, you just want to be fucked, don’t you?” He took a step further and you stepped back, the butterflies in your lower abdomen not calming down for even a second, “maybe I’ll have to fuck some manners into you,” he smirked, and pushed you on the couch near the last pool, getting on top of you, ignoring your lips as he trailed his own on your neck, making sure to apply more pressure while kissing your sweet spot. Your bikini top was long discarded in the pool, your bikini bottoms joined it soon as you laid below him.

“Already wet? Seems like you’ve been waiting eagerly,” he commented, sliding his fingers into your pussy, scissoring it open for his cock to fit into your tight hole, “so ready for my dick,” he chuckled.

“Put it in,” you whimper, causing him to shut your mouth, his lips on your as he swiped his tongue on your lower lip, a gasp leaving your mouth as you kissed him back with need.

He pushed his pants down and stroked his cock a few times, all while keeping you busy with his kisses. Without giving you much warning, he poked the tip of his cock at the your entrance, your eyes widening as he deepened the kiss, pushing his hips forward, stuffing your clenching walls full of his thick length.

“Oh—fuck!” You gasped and moaned.

A smirk was plastered on his face with how needy he made you, your wetness allowing him to bottom out easily, giving you no time to adjust to his length before he started to thrust in even faster and deeper, sending you into a state of the bliss of arousal.

With your eyes rolling back, you couldn’t form sentences as he ruined you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear as he nibbled on it.

You were committing the filthiest sin yet it felt like heaven.

“So wet, so fucking tight, all for my cock, look how you’re clenching so desperately,” he chuckled.

His balls smacked against your ass, he was painfully hard and you were equally aroused, not knowing how much more you could hold it in.

“What if someone walks in and sees how dirty of a slut you are?” He continued to talk, which only made you wetter, “you would like that, won’t you? Me fucking you behind your parents.” He thrusted harder, hitting your g-spot with ease.

His hips moved with such fluidity, it made you wonder how many people he had fucked before to get this good at fucking, you were obsessed already.

It took all of your control to not scream and whimper out loud, the stretch was nothing like you had experienced before, you couldn’t help but chant his name like a mantra, over and over again, head clouded with him.

Heeseung twitched inside your pussy, pulling you up and turning you around with ease, pushing your head down and holding your ass up as he started fucking you from behind, a hand grabbing your tit while the other played with your clit.

You whimpered, gritting your teeth as the sudden tight feeling began to overwhelm your trembling frame, and he knew you wouldn’t be able to hold his back anymore, his movements getting sharper as he smacked your ass.

“Go ahead, kitten,” he whispered and that did it for you.

Shaking and whining, you finally reached your high, all senses heightened as you made a mess all over his cock.

He groaned deeply, emptying his cum into your pussy with a few thrusts, making sure you were full of him.

He stood back just to watch his cum dripping pussy and fucked out expression.

“Better start taking birth control from now,” he smirked, kissing your lips with a smack.

“Why? Will you fuck me again?” You asked, acting like a brat, “I’ll pay you.”

He scoffed, “keep your cash to yourself, queen, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to stand the next time,” he gritted out.

To his amusement, you tried to stand up, only to fall back down on the couch, “guess you can’t do it, and to think I went easy on you,” he spoke up, embarrassing you again.

Being degraded by him was your new fetish.

“What if my dad catches us?” You asked, looking away, trying to cover yourself with a towel as you changed the topic.

“Well, you’ll have to learn to be silent to not get caught, princess,” he spoke, coming closer and taking the towel away from you, gaze darkening at your figure again, aiming for a round two thinking no one was watching.

However, a certain boy named Sunghoon stood on his balcony from the mansion next to yours, the view being clear enough to show your pool area and your activities, his hand stroking his cock firmly as he watched Heeseung fuck you for the second time.

A smirk played on his face as he fucked his palm as he formulated a plan in his head.

He simply knew he’d be joining you both the next time.

THANK YOU FOR READING! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT <3

TAGLIST:

@en-cityzen @seungkwan-s s @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @sungniverse @criceofpain @starryjakey @wntrsgf @heelariously @liliansun @hoonstrology @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @9900z @cha-raena @faethefairy @seo-thicc-bin @lilacboba @fallinforgyu @jayegalaxy @violevantae @ivyvesisi @sunshine-skz @nicksszzz @candidupped @celestialsjy @enhydiaries @woniecf @ultenha @dreamyenskz @keixeds @j5aker @donghoonie-3 @jkmonica @neocityhoe @zhaixiaowen @seuomo @hwhjsthetic @shreyerii @jngsngie @jjhmk @jongseongsmirk @iqeot @duolingofanaccount @bunhoons @yunskies @jaysbiceps @nyfwyeonjun @goodforgyu @enhacolor @cyuuupid @luvyun @sunghoonight @bambisgirl @taekbokki

#fic : conflict of interest #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kpop smut #hee smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines #heeseung x you

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togrowoldinv · 4 months

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A True Love’s Kiss

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets brainwashed, it’s up to you to bring her back to her formal self. It’s not an easy task, but maybe your love for her is the key to unlocking her memories

Note: Woohoo Natasha. Just a fun (kinda angsty) little idea I came up with today. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

It’s a quiet morning as you run through the park. Memories of the last few years flash through your head, but you shake them away.

It’s been six months since you’ve heard from any of the Avengers. The so called ‘family’ left you out to dry the moment that things ended with you and Natasha.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to date the woman you worked with. But you knew you were in love with her and life felt too short to deny that.

You’re on the way back to your car when you sense it. A few moments later, two of your ‘old friends’ walk into your view.

“Y/n,” Steve begins. You don’t look at him.

“Come on, y/n. Look at us,” Clint adds.

“Why should I? I haven’t heard from any of you in months. All you did was side with Natasha,” you say bitterly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve says. You hate that it really seems like he means it. “Things got messy and we weren’t there for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” you remark.

You decide you’ve had enough of this. You move to open the car door but are stopped short by Clint’s next words.

“It’s Natasha,” Clint says. “She’s been compromised and we think the only person she’ll talk to is you.”

You sigh.

“And why do you think that?” You ask.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s our last idea,” Steve says. His tone has a sadness to it. “Will you come with us? Please. For Nat?”

You don’t reply, but you simply grab a bag of clothes from your car and walk closer to Steve and Clint. They’ll take that as a yes.

After walking to the quinjet, Clint takes the reins while Steve explains to you what happened to Natasha.

“She’s not herself. None of us have been able to stop her from these missions she’s been on,” he explains. “It seems like it could be the red room again. Like they’ve brainwashed her.”

“How did this even happen? How did she get that far out of reach in the first place?” You ask.

Steve hesitates to answer.

“Tell her,” Clint says.

“Tell me what?”

“Y/n, when you and Natasha broke up she went into hiding,” Steve says. “You never heard from us because we’ve been busy trying to find her. Now that we have, we have to figure out how to bring her in.”

“We found her in Russia,” Steve continues. “She’s good at what she does, you know that. But her heartbreak made her incredibly vulnerable. Even before she left the Avengers, her focus was somewhere else. Probably on how she broke your heart.”

“So this is my fault?” You wonder aloud. You don’t know if that makes you angry or sad. Maybe both.

“No,” Steve says. “It’s no one’s fault. Nat chose to leave.”

“But she’s not choosing to act like this,” Clint says. “I can tell. I can almost bring her out of it when I mention my family. And since she’s in love with you-“

“Was,” you correct him. “She was. Not anymore.”

“Right,” Clint says noncommittally. “We hope once she sees you, she’ll snap out of it.”

“So all of this is based on a hope?” You ask.

“Well, yeah,” Steve says.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. You stand up and push your way to the back of the jet to sit alone.

Truthfully, you’ve imagined reuniting with Natasha a million times. In your fantasy, she would show up at your door in the pouring rain with flowers and a romcom style apology for how she hurt you.

But this reuniting will be no romcom. You can tell from the way Steve can’t really meet your eyes that it’s bad. He cares for Natasha as deeply as you and Clint do. You can sense his fear. And Clint’s.

“We’re here,” Clint announces, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Where’s here?” You ask. You look out the front and notice the landscape is not the Avengers compound where you thought you were heading.

“There’s no time to prepare,” Steve says. “You can do this, y/n. Approach the house carefully and expect resistance. We’ll back you up but if Nat sees us we’re sure she’ll be quicker to turn against you.”

“Here’s coms,” Clint says, handing you a piece for your ear.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” you say, taking a deep breath.

You step out of the quinjet and walk over one hundred paces to where Natasha is supposedly staying. As you expected, she doesn’t answer the front door when you knock.

Instead, you’re struck in the back of the knee. She effectively brings you down to the ground. Her legs straddle your waist. Your breath is taken away in more ways than one.

She looks beautiful yet sad. You try to shake off the fact that you’re seeing her for the first time in so long and focus on the way she’s crushing your ribs.

“Natasha,” you say.

“You don’t know me,” Nat says.

“I used to,” you answer. That throws her off briefly and you manage to squirm free. Natasha catches up fast and pins you against the door this time.

“What do you want?” Natasha asks. She feels an odd attraction to you. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help you,” you say.

Natasha punches the wall behind you and wraps her hand around your neck.

“Okay, you don’t like that answer,” you whimper out.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Natasha commands.

You bring your arm up to pull hers away from your throat but she doesn’t stop. You plead with her with your eyes and once again she hesitates long enough for you to slip away.

She pulls her gun on you, but waits to shoot. You hold your hands up in surrender. You try again to make her remember you.

“Natasha, please,” you beg for her to relent. “You know me and I know you. It’s me, y/n.”

She doesn’t appear to have any recollection, so you go deeper.

“You love peanut butter sandwiches,” you say. “And you secretly love M&Ms but only the red ones even though they all taste the same.”

“I-“

“And you get up every morning and go for a run not because you love running but because you like to see the world before it becomes too loud and unsteady,” you continue. “And you love me. Or at least, you used to.”

“I don’t- I’m not who you think I am,” Natasha says.

“Yes you are,” you argue back.

“I’m not,” she says. Her voice breaks. You feel like you’re making progress.

“Natasha, baby, please,” you say.

She’s fighting her internal turmoil. Her objective is to take down anyone in her way.

“Y/n, get out of there,” you hear Steve in your ear.

You don’t dare reply. She’ll shoot if she thinks she’s surrounded.

“You’re an Avenger,” you say. “You’re a friend. You’re a sister. You are an aunt to Clint’s kids. You’re the love of my life.”

Natasha’s hand shakes. She thinks she knows you, but she has a mission.

You look into her eyes as she aims at your chest. Steve and Clint run towards you knowing what’s about to happen but it’s too late.

Natasha fires the weapon and you feel a lot of pain before you feel absolutely nothing. Steve hits Nat with a tranquilizer before she can shoot him and Clint as well.

The next thing you remember is waking up in the medbay at the compound.

“Hey,” Steve greets you. “You’re okay.”

“Where’s Nat?” You ask, sitting up.

“She’s detained,” he says. “And asking for you.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the world again,” Tony interrupts as he enters the room. “Dr. Cho fixed your wound up perfectly as always.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering why you’re here. The ache in your shoulder becomes more noticeable when you try to move it. “I need to see her.”

“No can do, buckaroo,” Tony says. “We’ve got Hill in there talking to her.”

“You mean interrogating her,” you correct him.

“Maybe,” Tony replies. “But we need to know whose side she’s on now.”

“Steve, please you have to let me see her,” you say. “She recognized me. She just- she needed to continue her mission.”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “It’s too dangerous.”

“She already shot me,” you say dryly. “What else could happen?”

Steve relents. After a couple of hours of resting, you get dressed the best you can, putting your arm in a sling.

You approach the detainment area carefully. Natasha is sitting at a table with her hands cuffed to it when you enter.

“Take those off,” you instruct the guard.

“I’m not supposed-“

“Just do it,” you say.

“Ma’am-“

“Take them off,” Steve says over the intercom.

The guard complies and unlocks the cuffs. You frown at the way they’ve rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hey,” you say to Natasha.

“How’s your shoulder?” She asks.

“Fine. Why didn’t you shoot to kill me? I know you could’ve,” you say.

“So we’re jumping right in,” Nat remarks. “You said you know me and you told me facts that no one knows. I needed to talk to you more. I needed you alive.”

“Do you know me?” You ask.

“I don’t,” she says. You can’t help but frown. “But you do feel vaguely familiar.”

“You’ve had your memories of us taken from you,” you say. “Probably by the Red Room.”

“What did you just say?” Natasha asks. She stands up and pushes you against the wall.

“Nat,” you say. Your shoulder is throbbing.

“We’re coming in to help,” Steve says urgently.

“No wait! I can do this,” you shout. “Natasha please, you wouldn’t hurt me. Not again.”

“Stop acting like you know who I am!” She shouts. “How did you get that name? The Red Room? How did you know?”

“Because Natasha we dated for over a year,” you say. “You told me everything.”

“No,” she says. “I would- I would remember if I had loved you.”

“Natasha, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” she cries out. “Stop. You don’t- stop it.”

“I do. I love you. Please, I love you. Find yourself in me again, Nat,” you beg her.

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. It’s beginning to click. You think of the last effort you can make to help her remember it all.

You lean toward her and pull her in for a hug. Your good arm goes around her waist and pulls her in. Natasha doesn’t hug you back but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Please, Natasha. I need you to come back to me,” you whimper into her neck.

It feels so familiar to her. Holding you in her arms as you bury your face into her neck, but she still can’t figure out who you are to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away from your embrace. “I just don’t remember you.”

You nod in understanding. She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t flinch when you place your hands on the sides of her face. Her cheeks feel hot under your touch.

“Can I try?” You ask her. She gets what you mean.

“Okay,” she says.

You lean in and kiss her lips softly. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make Natasha’s heart flutter. And yours too. Under different circumstances, it would be an amazing reunion kiss.

“Y/n?” She asks when you pull away. There’s a light of recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Detka,” she begins. You could cry at the pet name. “I don’t- are you okay? Shit, this is my fault.”

She tries to inspect your wound, but you just hug her again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so so sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I did when I broke your heart,” she says regretfully.

“Natasha-“

“Let me just,” she interrupts. “Let me apologize. I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you. I haven’t stopped. It’s just I got so protective of you that I couldn’t let you go on missions. I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t holding me back, Nat. I understand that you’re protective over me, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” she says. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Let’s go home, Natasha. We can talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate,” you suggest.

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Nat says.

You both ignore the other Avenger’s requests that you stay at the compound and they evaluate Nat’s situation and your injury.

The hope of a true love’s kiss curing Natasha seems to be really true. Maybe fairytales are real. Maybe they’re not. But you both love each other and you were always meant to end up together again.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff angst #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark

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bichachonacho · 1 year

Text

Retribution

pt.2 of ‘The Other Woman’

pt.3 here

warnings: angst and fluff (technically) & mentions of sex.

The fan art divider below is not my work. I found it on pinterest but Idk who the artist is. If someone knows can you please lmk so I can give them credit <3

a/n: also thank you so much for all the love for part one of this story <3! and I’m sorry to those who asked me to tag them with this post I was trying to but it wouldn’t let me for some reason :/

It had been weeks since that night, the same night Aemond confessed his feelings for his true love Alys in his drunken state. The same night you had cried yourself to sleep, wanting to be as far away from your husband whilst being trapped in his embrace. You woke the next morning with a new realisation— why should you bother trying to be an outstanding wife when you would never compare to her.

His beloved Alys.

Her name tastes like poison in your mouth, so distasteful you fear you’ll grow sick if it lingers at the forefront of your mind any longer. You feel guilty, it’s not her fault you’re trapped in a marriage with a man who’s madly in love with her.

You stop trying with Aemond. All the effort you put in to try and gain his approval, affection and love would inevitably go to waste— so why should you spend any more time worrying about Aemond and his needs. He didn’t need nor want you to be his wife, so you shouldn’t act the part.

You carry on with your day after your brief breakfast with Aemond in the dining room. You kept the conversation short, as you usually do now. You have little to say to him besides conversation about your shared duties to the throne and your family. You stopped trying to make small talk with him, your attempts before often irritated him. He wouldn’t hide the fact your consistent need for communication with him bothered him. Now you’re content with the shared silence between the two of you, grateful that you didn’t have to scramble to think of things to talk about.

You allow the handmaidens to ready your bath as you contemplate what outfit to wear for your day out of Kings landing. You ignore the way Aemond’s eye is trained on you intently, silently observing the way you think over what dress to wear between the two options.

“If those do not please you, I’ll buy you finer dresses, dear wife” Aemond breaks the silence, causing you to scoff at his attempt of being a considerate husband. This was one of the only times he had referred to you as his wife, weeks ago you would’ve been praising your gods in thanks— now the title barely phases you.

“Now why would you do that” You huff, deciding on the dress that was a deep shade of blue. You brush past him, hinting for him to leave the room when you bathe. He hums before pushing off of his seat and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him as you begin to undress.

“Are you planning on telling Prince Aemond where you are headed?” Your handmaiden Meredith questions you as she brushes your long silver hair. You pretend to lull the thought over before you say no.

“He doesn’t need to know. My absence won’t phase him” You hum, causing Meredith to tut as she braids some of your fine hair. You shut your eyes momentarily, preparing to receive an earful from the older woman who was like your mother figure in Rhaenyra’s absence.

“I would question that, Princess. Prince Aemond had spent half the day searching for you when you had left to roam the streets two days ago” She informs you, causing you to hum in thought as you processed what she had just told you. It seemed absurd that Aemond would notice you leaving for a few hours, you could disappear for weeks and he wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

“I trust you won’t tell him if he searches for me” You hum, confiding in her trust. You already knew the answer, Meredith would defend you with her last breath if it came down to it. She presses a soft kiss into your hair before standing up and stretching her limbs.

“Be mindful there is a family dinner tonight. You cannot be late” Meredith informs you and you wave her off, promising you wouldn’t be tardy before you push off of the hard floor and prepare to leave your bedchamber.

You had forgotten your promise the moment you stepped foot on Dragonstone. It had slipped your mind completely as you spent the day with your younger siblings— your mother distracting you in the evening by telling you stories by the fireplace. Your hand was steadily caressing her heavily swollen stomach as you listen to her tale, hoping your sibling inside of her womb was also listening. It was so entertaining you had forgotten of your curfew.

You leave Dragonstone hastily on Dragonback, cursing as you chastise yourself for forgetting such a thing. Meredith would definitely give you an earful later for this, but that was the least of your concerns as you take quick strides down the halls of the Red Keep. Out of breath and hair messy from the ride back, you quickly try to make yourself more presentable before you enter the dining room— the guard posted outside the door giving you a look before you enter.

“I apologise for my tardiness, your grace” You announce as you greet Alicent who gives you a tight lipped smile from her side of the table. She silently disapproved of your lack of consideration for time but said nothing— allowing you to take a seat beside Aemond.

You ignore his stare, keeping your gaze focused on the plate infront of you as you cut into your steak, hoping he would lose interest of your face and stop staring so intensely.

“Where have you been?” Aemond confronts you, finally breaking the deafening silence that could be cut with a knife.

“I went for a ride. Needed some fresh air” You glance at him as you answer, catching the dissatisfied look on his face at your alibi.

“Be honest with me” He presses you again, his voice slightly louder and catching the attention of the others sitting around the table. They pretend to carry on with their idle chatter, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation. You stay silent, ignoring his statement and hoping he would lose interest and stop talking to you.

“Your husband demands you to answer him” He growls, his tone revealing his frustration at your silence.

“Or what? You’ll sever my tongue?” You argue as you drop your cutlery, accentuating your anger as you repeat the words he spoke to you at this same table weeks ago. Everyone around the table goes silent at your sudden outburst, Aegon barely biting back a laugh whilst Helaena gazes at you with sympathy in her eyes. Alicent as you expected still wore a scowl on her face, unimpressed by both you and Aemond’s antics.

“I apologise for my outburst” You announce to everyone at the table before you continue to quietly eat, shifting further away from Aemond in your seat as you internally wish you were riding back to Dragonstone.

“I visited my family. That’s where I was today” You sigh heavily as you both enter your shared bedchamber after the dinner had concluded. Aemond gives you a look of understanding before you brush past him and begin to undress.

He lingers around the small bookshelf you insisted to be made months ago, finger trailing along the covers until he pulls out the novel containing children’s tales.

“You no longer read to me. I wish for you to read again” Aemond’s voice is just above a whisper, barely audible with the only sounds being your fabric loosening and the crackles from the fire.

Every second night after you wed, you made it a nightly ritual to read out loud your favourite stories from your childhood. Hoping it would help you bond with Aemond, it in fact did the opposite and made him leave the room most times— claiming he’d rather listen to Aegon fucking some whore than you reading to him.

“Today has exhausted me. Feel free to read on your own accord” You hum, dismissing his request as you stifle a yawn— pulling back your sheets to lay on your side of the bed. Aemond sighs heavily before he retires to the seat infront of the fireplace, reading quietly to himself. You had already shut your eyes and lulled yourself to sleep, so you missed the way he kept glancing over at your sleeping form.

Aemond feels a slight tightness in his chest as he reflects on how distant you’ve been with him for the last few weeks. He noticed it the first morning you stopped asking him a million questions at the breakfast table. Your odd behaviour that morning only being the start to you growing further apart from him. You stopped trying to drag him to the garden to simply walk with you, you no longer played with his hair or tried to jest with him. You didn’t ask him how his day was at the end of the night as you both lay down for bed, you would just silently turn over and sleep.

He’s hurt you, more times than he could count on all ten of his fingers. He treated you so bitterly because he blamed you for losing his sweet Alys to this betrothal. Now that he’s losing you too, he doesn’t know how to stop this marriage from falling apart.

The next morning, you ready your proposal to Aemond— one that you’ve been dwelling on for the last few weeks. You weren’t sure of how he’d react, probably ecstatic over your suggestion if you were to be honest. You know Alicent won’t be satisfied if she were to find out, so you intend to keep it a secret.

“We will reside in separate bedchambers. I’ve already asked Meredith to arrange Jace’s old bedroom down the hall for me. I’ll be moving my belongings there tonight” You announce to Aemond once you are both sat together during breakfast. He pauses at the news, confusion gracing his features as he stares at you.

“We’re married, why should you feel the need to sleep away from me?” His chest tightens again as he speaks.

“We’re practically worlds away when we share one bed, what difference would it make being in separate rooms” You say nonchalantly, sipping on your lukewarm tea as your eyes leave his. He doesn’t voice his disagreement with your suggestion, just silently nodding before he continues to eat.

When night comes, both you and Aemond make your way to your bedchambers after spending an evening with the whole family in Aegon and Helaena’s quarters. You were practically glued to her youngest child the whole night, unaware of your husband’s stare as he watched you babble away in gibberish to the young baby.

“Do you need instructions on where to stick your cock, brother?” Aegon had clapped him on the shoulder as he joins him by the fireplace he was leaning against. Aemond hums in confusion, pulling his gaze away from you momentarily to glance at his brother.

“It’s out of brotherly love that I question why you haven’t put your seed in her yet. Have you not been married half a year now?” Aegon scoffs, downing his goblet full of wine before he tosses it aside.

“We don’t share the insatiable urge to fuck like rabbits the way you and your whores do, dear brother” Aemond bites back, causing Aegon to raise his hands up in defense.

“At least I feel the urge to touch them, not once since your wedding have I seen you embrace her— not even with a simple kiss” Aegon was right, after their wedding night, Aemond didn’t bother trying to share any affection with you. In his heart he knew his kind touch and warm embrace were reserved for the one woman who held his heart in her hands.

“Y/N…” Aemond hums, stopping you in your tracks as you stop walking down the hall. You feel his hand embrace yours as he turns your body to face him, his touch warm as he cups your hand in his.

“H—how was your day?” He questions you, his stutter causing him to curse at himself internally as he notes how foolish he sounds. You let out a little laugh at how confusing he was being, you spent the walk back here in utter silence and he chooses only now to ask you.

“It was like every other day I have here. Meredith made me chocolate muffins— they were divine” You hum, unsure of what else to talk about you ask him the same question.

“My day was mediocre at best, one can only bare Aegon for so long”

You hum in understanding, Aegon was more than a handful. He was torture when he wanted to be, which was majority of the time he was in anyone’s presence. You’re blessed to be married to the tamer brother, the same one who still had your hand in his grasp.

“If that is all, I wish you goodnight Prince Aemond” You hum, pulling your hand from his grasp completely before you turn on your heel and continue on your way to your new bedchamber.

Discomfort sits in his stomach at your use of his formal name, it was as though he wasn’t your husband— a stranger to you almost. He feels guilt reside in him as he reflects on how he would chastise you for calling him terms of endearment that Alys often used. It’s only now as he watches her walk away from him and disappear into her bedchamber that he realises he would give an arm and a leg to hear you call him those names once again.

Much to your dismay, you can barely sleep a wink. You toss and turn against your cold sheets , frustrated and confused as to why you couldn’t sleep soundly in your own space. No longer did you have to sleep stiffly because Aemond was on the other half of your bed. You had all the freedom in the world to sleep, yet you couldn’t even as you tried your hardest to.

You decide to take a walk in the garden to clear your head and hopefully tire yourself out enough to finally rest. Sighing heavily, you admire the warm air that fans against your skin as you quietly make your way down the halls. Your eyes widen slightly as you see his long silver hair, his eye focused on the moonlight that beams through the trees leaves above him. For once in your marriage you seem to finally sync as you realise he couldn’t sleep either, needing the comfort of nature to clear his head.

“You couldn’t rest either?” You hum as you approach him, the leaves crunching beneath your bare feet as you move closer to him. He seems startled at first, exhaling in relief when he recognises his wife’s voice.

“It seems as though I have grown used to the warmth of your body beside mine— your absence has turned me into an insomniac” Aemond admits truthfully, causing something inside of your gut to spark when you hear his words.

“It appears your absence has caused me to have the same troubles” You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest as you look up at the leaves above your head, fascinated by it’s pretty colour.

“We shall grow used to it as time passes” You exhale, hoping that you don’t suffer the same fate tomorrow night. He’s taken aback by your statement, his eye resting on your face.

“Time passes? How long do you intend on being separated?” If you weren’t aware of Aemond’s true feelings toward you, you would almost hear the hint of sadness in his voice as he speaks.

“I was meaning to discuss this matter with you in a week’s time, but seeing as we’re alone and at our most vulnerable— I shall inform you now” Your words cause his pulse to quicken, he involuntarily feels his heart pound as you turn to face him. He didn’t know what to expect.

“I know this marriage wasn’t one formed from a love match. I’m the last person you wished to marry and somehow we still found ourselves betrothed” You sigh heavily, reflecting on the moments you’ve shared as a married couple so far— most, if not all being ones where neither of you were happy.

“Someone else has ahold of your heart, it was never mine to claim and I was foolish for trying to in the first place. This marriage was always destined to fall” You grasp ahold of his hands in yours, the gesture causing your gazes to meet as he finally looks at your face.

“I give you my permission to pursue your beloved Alys, so long as we both continue this marriage for the sake of our family name and duties— nothing more, you are free to love her. I too will do the same, in hopes that I do one day find someone who loves me as much as you love her” You say in finalisation, watching his face for any sign of a reaction.

Aemond’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest at your words, he didn’t know how to feel. You were giving him a golden opportunity on a silver platter, he would get to love his Alys freely— without the guilt of already being a husband and that in itself sounded like heaven to him. Still, he was heavily conflicted. He wanted to confess to you that even with his love to Alys, he still longed for you— his wife that he had watch gradually lose herself because of him. It’s selfish of him to need you both, to want you almost as much as he wants her.

After a moment, Aemond finally nods his head in agreement— the words of truth being trapped in his throat as he fails to utter even a word to you. You give his hands a squeeze before you release your hold on him.

“This matter is settled then” You hum before you pull away from him. You bid him goodnight, your words barely processing in Aemond’s mind as he fails to speak. Instead he watches you walk away in silence, leaving him alone in the garden with his thoughts and his latest regret.

—

a/n: Idk about this ending tbh sorry if it’s meh but the final chapter will be worth it :p

tags <3

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine

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strawhbrrries · 11 months

Text

Cowgirl

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: a trip to the store with your dad’s best friend ends in a lack of a swimsuit and the feeling of his beard scratching you forever engraved in your mind.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, no real sex, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 2711 words

author’s note: the line “ride cowgirl” in pyramid by frank ocean inspired this whole fic, which i kinda wanna make into multiple fics?? a story if you will?? anyway, i think this is a huge step up from my last writing piece so please enjoy :)

read the sequel ride, cowgirl !

“I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe.” You sang along to the song blaring from your dad’s speaker, you hijacked it when he went inside to get more beer for him and his friends, swinging your hips and slowly spinning in a circle. Your music was way better than his divorced dad rock music, which you secretly enjoyed, and if you were going to enjoy the get together he was throwing you were absolutely going to play your own music.

“But you keep fronting.” Tiffany, your long time best friend, sang back into the imaginary microphone in her hand as she pranced around you in a circle. The two of you putting on a performance to the imaginary crowd in your backyard, or so you thought. Twenty feet away, sitting in perfect position across the fire to watch you swing your hips around, was your dad’s best friend Frank.

Frank was only half listening to the conversation between the men around him, he was more focused on the way you danced and how it was making him rethink every decision he ever made and was about to make, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on the bottle in his hand. Sure, he’d always known you were a gorgeous girl but something about tonight was different. The fire barely illuminating your skin softly had him wanting to slide behind you as your hips moved in time with the song, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck before moving to your ear where he whispered promises of what he’d do to you later. He took a sip of the lukewarm beer, watching you for a second more before turning back to whatever bullshit conversation that was going on. It paled in comparison to you. Currently, everything did.

The summers in Texas were your favorite, the air was never too humid and warmed you up when the wind came through at night, the lightning bugs never failed to show up every night and lit up the trees if you paid enough attention. Truthfully you were biased, but the thing that made them truly the best was having no true responsibilities again and you would always enjoy that, especially when your beloved dad bought your alcohol for three months. One of your favorite perks was the swimming pool, you were either swimming with a few of your friends or tanning on the side but you were almost always found by it. The swimsuits you typically donned weren’t the slightest bit modest, and now wasn’t any different. You were barely covered in a green bikini, the top consisting of two triangles and a string, and the bottoms high cut and covered with a mesh skirt.

“Castle, how’s work been man? Ain’t heard much bout it ‘n normally ya don’t shut up bout it.” Goddamnit is all Frank thought as your dad dragged him back into the conversation, ruining the imagery in his head. If looks could kill, the one he shot your dad would’ve murdered him beyond recognition. “‘s alright, busy. Always picks up in the summertime. Ready to have some more downtime, spend it with family.” More like with your daughter.

“I hear ya. Promise ol’ girl over there we’d do some family shit this summer, if business keeps the way it is I ain’t too sure how well I can keep that promise.” Your dad responded, pointing you out to the guys as if Frank hadn’t been oogling you all night. You and Tiff had stopped dancing to the music and instead opted to sitting with your legs in the pool, gossiping about town drama and Tiff’s newest boy of the week.

“Understandable, if ya’ll need anything just holler at me.” Frank responded, ready for the conversation to be done, ready to continue watching you like a creep from afar. He’d be a creep if it meant staring at you all night, he’d be a creep if it meant a chance to feel your hair wrapped around his hand while he-

“Dad, Tiff and I are going to get snacks from the gas station!” You called out happily, ripping Frank out of his delusion with the angelic smile of yours, walking over to the group of men surrounding the fire.

“C’mere, I’ll give you my card so you can get some more drinks.” You happily grabbed the card from your dad, bending over to give him a small hug. Frank was no better than the next man, he scratched at his scruff as he admired the way the green of your bikini complimented the tan skin threatening to spill from the lack of support.

“Frank, can you drive us? It’s dark and neither of us wanna drive.” It was like the perfect opportunity fell right into his lap and he’d be damned if he wasn’t taking it. The smile you were flashing him made him want to get down on his knees and beg, a god he wasn’t sure existed for, forgiveness for what he was about to do.

“Course darlin’, let me get my wallet.” He looked at your dad who seemed to have no qualms about the situation before getting out of the chair, placing his mostly empty bottle of now warm beer on the ground and following you into the house.

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on, give me a second.” Up until tonight, much like Frank with you, you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was. Older men had always excited you but this was different. Frank was big, strong, rough around the edges but had that southern hospitality you loved. You couldn’t help but think about how his scruff would feel rubbing against your skin, would it leave redness in its wake? would it help spur your orgasm as he fucked you with his fingers?

You picked up some oversized t shirt that probably once belonged to your dad and put it on, shaking your head as if it would get rid of the thoughts.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out. Horrible timing I know! But y’know, boy of the week is calling.” Tiff spoke, her expression clearly apologetic, giving you a hug and promising to make plans for later this week before grabbing her things and leaving.

“So for taking so long, got caught up in my thoughts.” Of you. You smiled softly, suddenly aware of how the sun had brought out freckles you didn’t know he had and how muscular he truly was.

“‘S alright, lets get goin’ ‘for your dad starts wonderin’.” He matched your smile, placing his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked out of the house and to his truck. You were painfully aware of how big his hands felt, triggering your mind to think about his fingers. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension aching at your core, it felt so taboo to lust after a man your dad’s age. Not just his age! His own best friend!

The trip to the gas station was uneventful, unfortunately, the two of you exchanged conversation like the tension wasn’t thick enough to cut. Like Frank’s jeans were getting uncomfortably tight and your bikini bottoms uncomfortably wet. Like neither of you wanted to jump the bones of the other person.

“Hey, Frank?” You asked softly, trying to gain the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to.

“Darlin’?” He put the car in park, looking over at you expecting you to call him every disgusting name under the sun for his thoughts about you tonight.

“Do you, uhm…”

“I’m not a mind reader, baby.” At first you thought you imagined the word, that he didn’t actually say it but it was your imagination fueling the growing fire you had for Frank Castle. But he did say it, and he did it on purpose. Testing the waters, seeing how far he could go without making you uncomfortable.

“Have you ever been with someone younger?” Not the fucking question, idiot. You scolded yourself, you didn’t want to know the answer to this. What if his answer was yes and you were imagining his interest in you, that you weren’t special.

“No, I uh haven’t. Not yet, anyway.” There he went again, saying things that made you think you were imagining it. Maybe you’d wake up any minute and none of it was real. He could see the wheels turning in your head, you were a smart girl and he knew that.

You, timidly, leaned over the console of his truck and experimentally ran your fingers through his scruff. You’d never been with a man, much less a man with a beard, you’d only been with what your father classified as boys. Frank leaned into your touch, placing his hand on top of yours and dragging it to his lips. Placing kisses on your palm, keeping eye contact with you. You were having trouble breathing, he was going to kill you. The beautiful hunk of a man was going to be the cause of your death, you’d make sure Tiff had it written on your tombstone. “Death by Frank Castle.”

Frank let your hand drop into your lap, threading his own hand through your hair to grab the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He leaned forward to meet you halfway, eyes scanning your face just taking in your beauty. His lips were made to fit yours, you were convinced, moving in motion with yours. His beard scratching your skin deliciously, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair, his scent. He was everywhere, he consumed you.

“Need you, Frank please.” You breathed, pleading with him. “Need you so bad, need to feel you, your fingers.” You carried on, your voice sounding like you were on the verge of tears.

“Baby, not here.” He spoke softly, committing the way you sounded to memory for him to reference later when he was alone, “I’ll get you off though. Make you cum, all over my seat.”

His words eliciting a whimper, you’d take anything he was willing to give you. It didn’t matter that anyone could see into his truck at any moment, made the situation so much more intense. He tapped your thigh, signaling he wanted you to open your legs.

Frank let his fingers dance over the exposed skin your lack of pants left, dragging them up your thighs slowly. Painfully slow. He left open mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally biting and soothing the bite with his tongue. What felt like a decade later his middle finger traced your clothed folds, chuckling into your neck at how wet you were. You bucked your hips at the stimulation, earning another chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat, you were dying to receive some more stimulation from him. At this point, you’d sell a kidney and probably your soul to just have a singular finger inside you. You’d probably sell his soul too.

He dipped a finger underneath your swimsuit, groaning at how wet you truly were and that he was the cause of it all. His dreams were, partially, coming true and he needed to thank the heavens and the stars. Your moans and whimpers were music to Frank’s ears and he’d do anything and everything to keep them coming, to keep those angelic noises from leaving your pretty mouth. The truck was silent except for your noises and the squelch of Frank playing with your pussy.

“‘S wet, pretty girl. All for me? Did I do this to you, baby?” He taunted you, sliding his finger through your folds and swirling your clit as he waited for an answer.

“All for you, promise.” You whined, leaning your head against him, sweat beading on your skin as the car started to heat up from the summer air and the actions being performed.

Your pleas were answered when he finally plunged a finger inside of you, pulling it all the way out and admiring how it glistened in the light provided by the street light in the corner of a parking lot. He did this a few times, thrusting his finger in and pulling it all the way back out before plunging it back inside of you. His lips found your neck again, moving your head back to the original position it was in, kissing every spot of open skin he could reach. As if he read your mind, he inserted another finger alongside the one already inside. The stretch burned in a way that made you feel alive, made you feel on top of the world. All because Frank’s fingers were inside you. God, his fingers were big. So big it made you think about how right your dad had been to call everyone else a boy and not a man. So big all you could do was think about how big his cock must be, if his jeans were any indication you were in for a real treat. Not here though, stupid stupid gas station stupid truck. Your thoughts soon turned to mush.

His fingers curled right against the spongy spot inside of you, hitting it over and over again, he readjusted his hand to put his thumb on your clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He spoke low, trailing kisses back up your neck and nipping at your earlobe.

You could feel the warmth growing in your stomach, the knots forming into bigger knots and then even bigger knots. Could feel the heat spreading throughout your body, your orgasm so close you could taste it. It was right there, his fingers hitting all the right spots and his thumb working wonders on your clit, his scruff scratching your skin and his mouth kissing everywhere. He was suffocating you in all the best ways possible. All you could see, hear, smell and taste was Frank fucking Castle.

Stars. Your vision turned to stars as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in the passenger seat as he fucked you with his fingers. Those damn fingers. You couldn’t see anything but stars, for all you knew you had gone to heaven and it was thanks to the magical orgasm given to you at the hands of your new god.

When you came down from your high, Frank was whispering how well you had done and how pretty you were. He was caressing your thigh and placing kisses to your head.

“Did so good, gonna get me addicted.” He reached behind your seat and handed you a water bottle, opening it and holding the lid so you could drink it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, that killer smile that got him here in the first place. He truly was going to get addicted to you and he had no complaints about it, could die a happy man tonight if fingering you in his passenger seat is all he gets to do to you. His phone ringing in his pocket brought him back to the situation at hand.

Shit. Both of you thought, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and how it was now an entire forty-five minutes later.

“Hey, ah yeah we’re good. Small fender bender, yeah….to make it all worse the gas station was closed when we got here.” Frank spoke to your dad on the phone, coming up with a lie like his life depended on it and he hadn’t just fingered you to the edge of your life. “Should be back soon, don’t worry man. I’m keepin’ her safe, precious cargo.”

You chuckled softly at his sentence, relaxing completely in the seat and taking a few sips of water, thinking about the future of your relationship with him. Or whatever it was, you made out and he had his fingers inside you but that didn’t mean shit. What if he regretted it and now didn’t want anything to do with you, what if he was too worried about his friendship with your dad?

“Quit thinkin’ too much. We’ll figure out whatever this is, all I know for sure is I need to see you again. And you to ride me, like a fuckin’ cowgirl. Ya hear?”

#maddies fics #dbf frank castle #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal #dads best friend #dbf!frank castle #dads best friend frank castle #jon bernthal smut #the punisher #punisher smut #fic: cowgirl <3

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asumofwords · 7 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, death, mourning, funeral, fluff, smut, daddy kink, breath play, spanking, slapping, fingering, face fucking, degradation, gagging, deep throating, dumbification, edging, creampie, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talking, name calling, rough handling, sadomasochist, sadism, spitting, spitplay, squirt, the correct method of choking, drugs (weed), alcohol, smoking.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Another monstrous chapter sitting at 10+k, because when I said this series was going to only be 15 chapters I meant it hahaha. Goodness, gracious me, here we are. We have come to the end of this series! Thank you so much for all your love and support this whole way through! I hope that you have enjoyed it, and I hope I did the ending some sort of realistic justice. I shall be getting onto my requests now hehehe, anyway, ENJOY! <3

Final Chapter: Stay

Waking that morning, you had not expected to be met with what you were. You had thought that the day would be spent with some awkward, uncertain glances cast Aemond’s way, with the others casting theirs towards you both. Then perhaps you would talk again.

Or fuck.

Or both.

Your little traitorous brain hoped for both.

But no, that's not what you woke up to that morning. You woke up to a nightmare come true. And although all had prepared for it for years, and in fact, the reason why all were back at the Red Keep, it still came as a bombshell that shook the family to its very core.

Viserys was dead.

Gone peacefully in his sleep, found by none other than his doting eldest daughter and wife.

You had woken to the bedroom door shutting, a peak of Criston Cole’s hair in the crack of the door. Helaena stood frozen by it, swaying slightly on her feet before she walked over to the bed and sat down, staring at the far wall.

“Hel?” You sat up, hand coming to touch your best friends shoulder, “What's happened?”

Fear of the unknown settled into your gut.

Her lavender eyes turned to you.

“He’s dead.”

The Keep was in disarray.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were in shambles, having lost a father and brother all in one. It was a most terrible thing to witness. You felt grief yourself for your friends, and for the family as a whole as they moved through the motions of his death, his leaving of their worlds. You felt akin to an invasive species as you sat amongst them, foreign, displaced, unfitting in their neat yet disturbed world.

Lucerys and Jacerys were grieving with their mother and step-father, the twins joining them. As for the other children of Viserys? That was another story.

Amongst the four of them, there was not a single tear shed for their father, bar Aegon in the early light of the morning, stained cheeks hidden in the shadows, red rimmed eyes, and a tiredness that no young man should have at his age, pulling down at his shoulders. But he had swallowed it quickly and quietly as he had for his whole life and went outside to smoke.

You couldn’t however account for Aemond, as he was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting in the gazebo with the three silver haired siblings, you tried to offer condolences, a shoulder to cry on if needed, but all were content to grieve in their own way; Aegon smoking yet another joint, Daeron texting someone animatedly, and Helaena, simply staying quiet and composed beside you.

It wasn’t what you had expected for people to have just lost their father, but you supposed that everyone grieves in their own ways, theirs being much different to your own.

Helaena stood from where she had sat, dressed in all black, something you had not once seen her wear, a stark change to the bright colours that she usually donned. Perhaps this was her way of showing her grief. Her mourning.

Her loss.

“Walk with me.” She said quietly, and you nodded, jumping up as you grasped her hand, letting her lead you down the garden to look at the various plants and trees that were in a part of a gated garden entrance.

Greenery of all sizes, shapes, and colours grew beautifully, small little plaques beneath identifying their scientific name. The Red Keep's garden had some of the rarest of flowers and trees in the whole of the realm. It even had the famed Winter Rose’s from the North in a special greenhouse that kept them in below freezing temperatures.

It was still early in the day, the sun only just rising to its peak as you walked together in silence, your hand in hers as you followed her lead, looking at the shrubs and immense show of wealth. If it weren’t for the reason of your walk, you would have been more animated upon seeing some rare and beautiful orchids, perfectly potted and healthy.

Your steps crunched along the cobblestoned path, twisting around to an extended part of the estate that you hadn’t been to. There, in front of you, was a most beautiful sight to behold.

Ruby red leaves sprouted out of ashen branches, twisting upwards towards the sky.

A Weirwood tree.

And a very old one by the looks of it.

“The Godswood.” Helaena explained to you, taking you closer to it.

You were so entranced by its incredible beauty, thinking of how Cregan's description of his back home didn't do it justice, that you hadn’t even noticed the man that sat amongst its roots, leant back on the trunk.

Aemond Targaryen sat beneath the branches and leaves of a tree that had been a symbol of the Old Gods to his family for hundreds of years. One leg was stretched out in front of him, whilst the other was bent, his long arms crossed over the top of his knee lazily.

He watched you as you came towards him, words caught in your throat.

The light that peaked through the tips of the branches shimmered down on his pale hair, causing it to glimmer with each parting of the leaves from the breeze that rolled through. His face looked flat, emotionless.

Blank.

Helaena’s hand slipped away from yours and you turned to look at her. She gave you a soft smile, before she walked away without a word, leaving you in the small Godswood courtyard with her brother.

You stood for a moment or two, the both of you watching each other before your legs pulled you towards him. You moved to sit beside the long limbed man, pulling your knees up to your chest as you kept your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to make him feel overcrowded, or as if he was being observed. Instead, you hoped that your presence was, at least, the tiniest bit of comfort if he needed it.

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you sat together, both staring off into the distance as the soft rustling of leaves moved overhead. If not for the death that had occurred in the early hours of the morning, the day would have been beautiful.

It was like that for a while, just the both of you. Basking in each others company silently, and yet you felt the need to do more. To say more. To show him more. To show him that you cared, to try and rebuild that bridge that had been torched between the two of you, in the way he had attempted to last night.

You felt guilt knowing that he would have woken up to not only an empty bed, but the news of the death of his father in a Keep he didn’t want to be in, surrounded by people he so desperately tried to avoid.

Tendons and veins pulled beneath the skin of Aemond pale hand as he rubbed a thumb and forefinger together atop his knee.

It was always his hands. Something you had learned rather quickly about him. His hands always moved when in thought, when irritated, lost, or angry.

Any strong emotion caused the man to fidget.

It was a habit that he shared with Helaena, no doubt inherited by their mother.

With no other way to convey what you were feeling, you lifted your hand and placed it atop his. His hand was warm, and twitched beneath yours. Aemond, without wasting a second, flipped his over and held onto yours tightly, threading his fingers through yours atop his knee.

Silence stretched forever until-

“I don’t mourn him.” Aemond’s voice moved with the breeze, soft and quiet, gently carried away from the courtyard, and you felt a pull of sorrow for him deep within your chest.

“We weren’t ever close. Cole was more a father to me than him.” There was a hollowness to his words which you would argue was grief, until he continued, “I don’t grieve the man he was, I grieve the father he could have been to me. The father he should have been to me. Something that I never had.”

Tears prickled in your eyes for him.

Gods.

Why had life been so cruel to this man?

A soft chuckle floated from his lips, a stark difference to his demeanour before, “I used to try so hard to impress him when I was young. Studied, learnt our traditional tongue before any of my other siblings did, and even then, it wasn’t enough for him. I was never enough for him. He was sick, yes,” Frustration bled from his shoulders, tense and closed in, “But he had more time for them than us.”

There was the anger.

Sorrow.

Spite.

Aemond Targaryen had felt he had been in his nephews shadow his whole life.

And it showed.

“It was worse for Aegon. First son and all. A shiny new toy for Viserys before his expectations became too high for Egg and he rebelled. Then nothing he would do could impress the man.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, shuffling across the hard roots of the tree to get closer to him, leaning your shoulder heavily against his, so he could feel your weight, so he could feel the heat of your body. To comfort him, to be there for him, all while not being smothering.

“I’m sorry, Aemond.”

He shook his head, long strand of silver falling over his shoulder as he looked at you, “Don’t be.”

Silence fell over you again, and you watched as a lone red leaf, pointed sides and all, slowly drifted from above the two of you down onto the grassy ground below. It swooped from side to side, spinning gently before soundlessly falling amongst green blades.

You didn’t want him to be alone.

You didn’t want him to feel isolated.

And in your restless, sleepless night, you had thought about him.

“It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, and watched as he turned his head to look back at you, his lone eye searching your face.

Your thumb soothed over his gently, your words having more than one meaning.

His bottom lip was pulled into his mouth by his teeth, and then his voice came up and out from deep within his chest as he gazed at you intensely, clouded eye unmoving, and the sun shining down onto his scarred side of his face.

“Stay.” He asked you for the very first time.

A stark opposite to all the times you had uttered that word to him.

Asked him to stay with you.

It was first time he spoke that four lettered word to you, beneath the crimson leaves of the ancient Godswood in a home that he had grown in.

You heeded his request.

Together, you sat beneath the branches and looked up through them, side by side in a wordless promise to each other.

Stay.

The next few days were a whirlwind. The funeral was held on the grounds of the estate, people from all over flying in to say their goodbyes to the patriarch of House Targaryen.

At first you had asked Helaena if you could go back home, not wanting to intrude on her families grief, but she had insisted, no, begged for you to stay for the funeral.

And so you had.

It was an intense and sad ordeal, but not once did you leave Helaena or Aemond’s side. You stuck by them both, and he always came to you.

Crossing the kitchen to come to you. Crossing the dining table outside to come to you. Crossing the hall to come to Helaena’s room and sit on the bed with the two of you, happy to be just in your presence and not say a thing.

Aegon had silently cried at the funeral. The only child of Alicent to do so. You had watched as fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, eyes cast at the coffin of his father, as his mother stood stoically beside him.

Alicent Hightower had cried softly when she had read the eulogy, then followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon's. It was the only time that you felt you would ever see the pair look out of their usual controlled demeanour.

After the funeral, there was the service, where all came to Rhaenyra and Alicent to offer their condolences, the two women standing side by side in all black. At one point, you had watched as Alicent’s pinky reached out, searching for Rhaenyra’s hand. It had curled against the other woman’s, and you watched as the other tilted her head slightly in shock, before she made a larger move, and curled her hand directly around the auburn haired woman’s beside her.

It was days after the funeral before all of you were back together again, side by side.

It had been a long day, longer than the last, and the night had bled into the sky in a deep purple before turning to its deeper shade of blue. Aegon had done rounds, going to each and every room to tell all to meet him down at the pool for some well needed drinks.

Aemond had been sat at Helaena’s vanity watching the two of you sit on the bed and softly giggle at a message Sara had sent her, your silver haired friend more intent on moving forward than looking back.

Hand in Helaena’s, you led her and Aemond down to the pool, not bothering to put swimmers on.

It was dark outside, the usual lights strung about the garden having been turned off, the only source of light coming from the moon, the stars, and the smaller lights that edged around the pools perimeter.

The others were already there, you having seemingly been the last pitstop, passing around popped bottles of champagne, wine and beer. There was the sweet, dank smell of Aegon’s weed again in the air, the short haired man leant back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky, bottle of Moët in one hand.

It was awkward at first, what with Jacaerys and Aemond’s outburst the last time you were all together before the funeral, but before long, and with the help of your trusty liquid courage, all seemed to melt into the numb feeling that the alcohol brought them.

You laid back in one of the armchairs, Helaena, between your legs, head resting on your stomach as you brushed the silver strands away from her face as she looked up at the stars. Aemond watched from beside you, having pulled over one of the other poolside chairs.

The twins, and the brown haired boys were sat at the waters edge with Aegon, their legs dangling into the pool as they swung them softly back and forth, drinking and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Daeron, having disappeared for a moment, came back with his speaker, softly playing music through it to fill the gentle quiet that surrounded you all.

It was soft, calm, and peaceful enough for such a tumultuous time, and as the night got longer, and bottles of alcohol became drained, blunts were passed, and inhibitions were lowered, smiles and laughter were shared amongst all.

Even Aemond.

But that stillness was disturbed when the tipsy, brown haired Lucerys stood and faced everyone, bottle of red wine in hand. The smiles dissipated, and a serious energy floated amongst everyone again.

“I want to make a toast.” The young man said with drunken confidence, thrusting out the wine bottle towards Aegon, “To Viserys.”

Jacaerys lifted his beer towards his younger brother, the twins following suit with their cans of fruity mixer.

Lucerys’ eyes fell on Aemond, before his lips pulled down solemnly, turning away to roam his gaze on everyone else, “He wasn’t a perfect man-”

Aemond quietly scoffed beside you.

“-But if it wasn’t for him, none of us would be here.”

Aegon hummed in agreement, sipping deeply from his almost empty bottle of Moët.

Lucerys’s gaze fell to you as he scratched the back of his neck, “Except you, Y/n. You’d still be here. Well, not here here. But you’d still-“

“-Alright, move it on.” Baela joked lovingly at him as he began to ramble.

Straightening his posture, Luc thrust his wine up to the sky, “To Viserys.”

All lifted their drinks up to toast, bar Aemond, hands bringing wine to their lips, beer to their mouths, or champagne to their tongues. You offered Aemond a small, sad smile, and he returned it, sipping at his beer in thought.

It wasn’t a full toast per-say like the others, but he drank in the mans honour regardless.

A large palm opened up towards you, pale fingers lazily spread in offering. You looked at his long digits, signet ring on one.

“Come here.” Aemond hummed, gentle look in his eye.

Helaena pulled herself from your lap and looked at her brother, “I thought you’d never ask!” She chirped playfully, and he rolled his eye at her.

A small giggle fell from your lips as you looked at his hand again. Still outstretched towards you in front of everyone.

In front of everyone.

Your heart raced in your chest as you stood, placing your hand in his, the warmth of his palm spreading up your arm as you moved over to Aemond, who pulled you between his long legs in a similar way you had done with Helaena. His legs were bent on either side of you with your back against his chest. You felt his chin dip to rest at the top of your head, and a warmth spread through your chest like wildfire.

Helaena smiled at your warmly as Aegon craned his neck backwards to look at the two of you.

“How long has this been going on?” He teased, glassy eyes narrowing on the both of you.

Lucerys, who had sat back down beside his brother after his toast, turned around with Jacaerys to observe. And when their heads turned, the others followed.

Heat rose in your cheeks and you felt a sudden shyness at it all. The urge to hide was strong.

But really, what was this?

You didn’t know.

But it was something.

Something more than before.

But still, you didn’t have an answer, so you moved to respond.

“Oh, we’re n-“

“-A while. I was just a dick about it.” Aemond interrupted you, and your heart soared.

Did he -

Did he just-

Did he just confirm your thoughts?

Did he just validate your feelings?

Answer all your burning questions that had kept you awake at night?

A while.

That implied that this was more.

That this had always been more.

That this was solid.

That this was-

“So that’s why you wouldn’t fuck me.” Aegon pouted, smirk pulling at his lips.

Aemond sighed heavily behind you, “That and the fact that you’re utterly repulsive.”

Aegon’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his brother, “You wound me! I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who haven’t found me repulsive.”

“Too many, if you ask me.” Helaena snickered.

Aegon flicked his joint at his sister, standing straight as he looked down at everyone.

“Good thing I didn't ask you. I’ll have you know I’m polyglamourous.” Hands on his hips.

“Polyamorous.” Daeron corrected his brother.

Aegon grinned, victory in his cheeks, “I meant what I said.”

Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your thigh soothingly as the night moved on, goosebumps rising on your flesh with each stroke of his long fingers. His chest was warm against your back, and you felt that you could fall asleep from where you were.

Helaena squealed at her phone loudly, breaking you from your fatigued thoughts.

“What is it?” You turned to face her, watching as a large grin pulled at her lips.

“Sara got us tickets to see the Phantom of the Opera!”

“What!”

“Yes!” She shook her phone in her hand whilst she screamed in excitement, “I can’t believe she remembered!”

Aemond chuckled from behind you, chest vibrating against your back, “Of course she'd remember. She’s in love with you.”

Your best friend suddenly became shy, a blush rising on her cheeks rapidly, turning them a bright red that even in the darkness of the night, you could see, “I know that. I just can’t believe it.”

“I’m jealous. Ask her where my ticket is.” You teased, “So I guess this means I’ll be seeing more of Sara again?”

Helaena gave you a knowing smirk, and you gave her one right back.

You were happy for her.

Really happy.

They were perfect for each other. And you always knew that they would get back together again. That and Helaena always told you so, and Helaena was never wrong.

Aegon having come round to where you sat, snatched his sisters bottle of Prosecco, downing the remainder in one gulp, a refreshed and exaggerated gasp filling the air as he ruffled her hair, a growl and swat of a hand coming for his arm which he dodged last second.

Aegon giggled, running around the rim of the pool, shoes kicked in one direction, socks thrown in the other, shirt torn from his back in one yank, and then came his pants. Your eyes widened as Aegon stripped himself nude before jumping into the pool with a yell.

He emerged from the cool water with a flick of his wet hair laughing, sending a hand splashing towards the twins and he smiled, “Come onnnn, live a little! Get in!”

Baela and Rhaena gave each other a shared look before standing, stripping themselves of their clothes before jumping in, hand in hand.

Before you knew it, you were all stripped bare, splashing about in the pool laughing and swimming around.

Even Aemond.

His cheeks were pulled taut by the grin plastered to his face as he swam towards you, tickling your sides as you screamed for backup from Baela and Rhaena, who swam towards you, a flurry of splashes and squeals until his large palms rose above the water and conceded.

Aegon pulled another spliff from the side of the pool and passed it around, and although it was dark, and you couldn’t see the details of anyones bodies, you still felt slightly shy in knowing that not only were you naked, but you were naked with a certain someone pressed up against your back.

At one point, you could have sworn you felt his cock twitch against the cheek of your ass, but you shrugged it off, going to the others as they tossed a ball like piggy in the middle back and forth, little Lucerys in the centre trying to jump up to catch it with all his might.

Eventually the water grew cold, and as you swam to sip at some of Baela’s drink, Aemond slid from behind you, hand wrapping around your waist. Heat spread through you as you felt him press up against you, mouth beside your ear.

“I think it's time for bed, don’t you?” He whispered hoarsely.

You bit your lip turning your head to try and sneak a peak at him, but was interrupted by a loud and obnoxious wolf whistle.

Aegon grinned at you both, “No fucking in mummy’s pool.”

“Ugh, Aegon. What the fuck.” Helaena grimaced.

A laugh exploded from your lips as you turned to look at Aemond, who was chewing the inside of his cheek, desperate to hide the smirk that was rising on his face.

“Come on.” He urged you, tilting his head to outside of the pool.

You climbed out with his help, getting dressed, all the while Aegon continued to whistle at the two of you and make obscene noises. But it was short lived as Helaena pushed Aegon’s head under water with all her weight, Jacaerys and Luc clapping in laughter.

You saw this as your out and grabbed Aemond’s hand, racing him through the Keep in fits of giggles until you reached his room, anticipation strumming in your gut. You watched as he shut the door behind him, turning to face you. His hair was wet, much like yours, and he advanced on you slowly, energy bouncing around inside of you.

“Come here.” He beckoned you with a finger, soft smirk on his lips.

You shook your head at him cheekily, “Nuh uh.”

His head tilted as he looked at you, “Please.”

Your feet carried you towards him, a magnetic pull dragging your chest to his. He smiled warmly down at you, cupping your cheek with one hand as the other dragged a wet strand of hair away from your face.

“Beautiful.” He praised you, before dipping his head down to kiss you.

Aemond bent slightly as your arms wrapped around his neck, large hands wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bed as you didn’t once break the kiss.

It wasn’t hurried like the last time.

It wasn’t frenzied.

This time, you took your time with each other.

Aemond stripped you of your wet clothes and brought you to your peak on his tongue, his name whispered from your mouth like a prayer. He hovered above you as he slid in, watching the way your mouth opened and brows furrowed at the stretch, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the side of your face as he slowly moved through your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against every point within you.

“So fucking beautiful.” He praised you as you fell apart once again on his cock, walls gripping his length tightly as you keened and whined, hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he smiled sweetly at you.

This was a side of Aemond you hadn’t seen before, and a side you hoped to see more.

He came with a quiet moan of your name, head dipping down into the crux of your neck as he planted kiss after kiss there.

You spent the rest of your night together curled in each others embrace, falling asleep with one word echoing in your mind.

Stay.

Waking up in a dark green and black room was disorientating at first, probably exacerbated by the steady strumming of a slight hangover in the back of your mind. But the warmth of two strong arms wrapped around you, and the familiar scent of Aemond that filled the space between, reminded you of where you were, and who you were with.

Your eyes opened as you looked up at him. His good eye still shut, chest rising and falling slowly.

Everything had happened so fast.

It was as if a match had been lit and set you both ablaze. The two of you burning together hotly, in more ways than one. Your tempers. Your stubbornness, but more importantly, your desire to be with one another.

It was different with him.

Unlike anyone else before.

Passionate.

Fiery.

All encompassing.

And you relished in it.

Relished in the fact that not only was it real, not only tangible, but Aemond had made it open last night as he had pulled you into his lap in front of everyone, and verbally confirmed what had been happening all along.

You weren’t ‘Helaena’s roommate’.

You were more.

You knew that now.

His confession for his love for you however, was something that the two of you would dissect on a later date. But right now? You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. Didn’t feel the same pull in your heart towards him when he would smile, or laugh, or just look at you. Or how your body would be set alight with even just a touch of his hand.

Aemond Targaryen had you well and truly under his spell.

And there was no other place you’d rather be.

Aemond shifted beside you, eye blinking open sleepily before he looked down at you.

“Morning.” His voice crackled with sleep, mouth opening in a small yawn before he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Your heart raced in your chest.

“Morning.”

Aemond squeezed you to him tighter as he stretched out the fatigue in his limbs, a whiny grunt escaping his lips.

That was noise you hadn’t heard before.

He sounded content.

Comfortable.

Safe.

But there was still one final thing.

You wanted to be sure that last night wasn’t just a drunken little display, or a declaration emboldened by the grief around the others tainted by possessiveness against Jacaerys.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly, watching as he blinked at you again.

“Whatever happens, happens.” His voice was deep, lulling you into a calm, “But I know I want to be with you.”

Here it was.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes searched his face.

This was it.

His last chance to back out.

His last chance to say no.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that creeped on your face, hands pulling him down into a relieved kiss, pouring your adoration and care for him into it as much as you could.

He returned it equally with fever.

Heat ran through you as you pressed yourself closer to him, gasping into his mouth as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. Aemond groaned into the kiss but pulled away.

You looked at him in confusion.

“Come on, we got to have breakfast with the others.”

You whined, plopping back into the pillows with a huff, “I don’t want to.”

Aemond chuckled from beside you, sitting up in the bed as he ripped the sheets away from your body, exposing your naked form. You rolled over onto your stomach, hiding your face in the pillow as you whined.

Two light smacks landed on the cheek of your ass, and you cried out in surprise, “Come on, grumpy.” He teased, “I’ll give you what you want after. But first, we need to eat.”

At the promise of getting what you wanted, you rolled out of bed, begrudgingly, looking at your semi wet pile of clothes in disgust.

You could do a run down the hall to Helaena’s room, but you could also be spotted running nude through the estate, which to you, didn’t seem appropriate considering the funeral held there only a few days past.

Aemond must have noticed your predicament, “Here.” He came over to you, handing you one of his black shirts and those grey sweats you loved so much.

You threw them on, the top coming down to your mid thigh. The pants however, didn’t stay up, and kept sliding down your legs no matter how much you tightened the strings or rolled them at your hips.

Aemond laughed at you as you stepped out of the pants and threw them at him in a huff.

“I need pants.” You whined, searching his room.

“Would prefer it if you didn’t.” He raised a brow at you.

Your core clenched around nothing as you looked at him, his stance challenging you to obey.

So this is the game he wanted to play.

Smirking, you turned to the door, opening it up, “Come on. We will be late.”

You left without looking back, not getting to see the way Aemond’s tongue poked into his cheek, watching you trot out of his room clad in his shirt.

Only his shirt.

The others were seated at the table outside picking at the spread. They all greeted you both as you moved sit down, except Aegon, who’s head was in his arms atop the table as he groaned dramatically and loudly for all to hear.

“Is he alright?” You asked Helaena, watching as she rolled her eyes at her older brothers antics.

“He’s fine. He’s just a drama Queen.”

“Drama King.” He grumbled back.

You ate together for a while before catching Helaena’s attention, it wasn’t something you wished to do, but it was something you had to nonetheless.

You had to go home, and what was more, you had to go back to work.

“Hel, is Criston around today?” You asked, plopping a sweet piece of watermelon into your mouth.

“I think so. Mum’s home today. Why?” Her head leant against her hand as she twirled one of her dragonfly earrings in between her fingers.

“I have to go back to work. I’ve used far too much of your mothers generosity, and uni starts back up next week.”

Helaena sat up straighter, “Holy shit, that’s next week?”

You nodded, “Yep. Not looking forward to Orwyle’s Citadel History class. Man could bore you to tears. I think I’ve actually cried once or twice.” You joked, rolling around a slice of starfruit on your plate before plopping it into your mouth, enjoying the sweet nectar that coated your tongue.

“Are you going to take Rhaenyra’s offer?” Helaena asked, eyes flitting from you and then to Aemond.

“What offer?” Came the grumbling groan of Aegon, his head lifting momentarily to look at you.

If he wasn’t speaking and breathing in front of you, you would have mistaken the man for being dead. Dark rings sat beneath his eyes, and his pale skin had a sallow dullness to it that made him look almost grey.

“Rhaenyra offered her a job at her firm.” Helaena confirmed.

Aegon grunted, dropping his head back into his arms.

“I didn’t know she offered you a job.” Aemond looked at you from the side, brows pulling slightly.

Why did you feel a slight stab guilt in not telling him?

But how could you have?

It had been a whirlwind since she spoke to you.

The offer.

Aemond returning.

Your spat.

Your make up.

Viserys’ death.

It didn’t seem like the right thing to bring up at that time, and if you were being truly honest, you hadn’t even thought of it since his arrival.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you with everything that’s happened.”

Aemond hummed, and so you continued, turning to face Helaena, “I think so. I need to give it a proper thought when I get home though.”

Helaena nodded at you, “I’ll speak to Cole after breakfast.” She promised, and resumed her eating.

You thanked her with a smile before doing the same.

“You should take it.”

His words came as a surprise.

You placed your fork back onto the plate as you looked at the man at your side. His face was honest and open, there wasn’t a sneer or grimace, or even the straight line that his lips did when he was upset.

He was being genuine.

You brows twitched as you wordlessly urged him to continue.

“My sister, despite everything, is a hard worker. She’ll look after you and make sure you’re taken care of. Besides, her firm is likely more your style anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” You probed casually, trying to hide your real intrigue behind another piece of fruit in your mouth.

“More…” Aemond thought for a second, and then it came with a cheeky smirk, “Woman led.”

Helaena stayed true to her word and had Cole come to take you home, or at least, back to the private runway where that sleek jet picked you up once again.

You said your goodbyes to all, giving everyone a tight squeeze, especially Alicent Hightower, who you thanked for her endless generosity in having you there at such a tough time.

However, you wouldn’t be going home alone. Aemond was coming with you, citing the need to be with you, and the need to get away from a place he hated.

When you moved to say your goodbyes to your best friend, you asked her when she would be back with you, mind wondering when you would need to part ways with Aemond's presence.

“I’m going to stay here for the next month." She told you, "I’ve already emailed uni.”

“The next month?” You felt sadness in your chest. Another month without your best friend.

You were going to miss her.

“Yeah,” She kicked at the gravel at her feet, “Mum needs me here for the solicitors and the Will and Testimony reading.”

“Oh? Are you going to be okay?”

Helaena pulled you in for a hug and whispered into your ear, “I’m going to be taken away in a straight jacket by the end of this.” Before pulling back to smile again, cheekier this time, “Besides, I’m sure Aemond will keep you company.”

His smooth voice came from beside you, “I have no plans on leaving.”

The flight home was quick with his company, and on more than one occasion, you had to swat his hands away from you as he whispered the chance of joining the mile high club in his mothers jet.

It felt good to be home as you stepped through the front door, dropping your keys in the empty bowl, followed by the sound of Aemond dropping his in beside it.

It made you smile, the familiar scent of your apartment, the soft glow of light, it's tidiness perfect for your arrival home. You turned back, grin tugging on your lips to look at the man behind you, only to see him looking at you hungrily.

You continued forward, butterflied erupting in your stomach as you felt the warmth of his gaze behind you. You dropped your bags in the lounge room and stretched your arms up high, the day dress you were wearing sliding up your thighs.

Aemond watched you with a hooded eye, and the heat you had felt that morning came back tenfold.

And then you remembered.

“You didn’t make do on your promise.” You smirked.

Aemond raised a brow at you as he dropped his bags next to yours, hands flexing at his side, urging you to elaborate.

“You said you’d give me what I want after breakfast." You purred, "It’s past lunch.”

The silver haired man’s lip twitched as he looked at you, tongue in cheek, “Look whose gotten all bratty the moment we get home.”

Home.

The word sent heat straight to your core.

“Not my fault you're a liar.” You teased back, feeling confident to push him now that you knew where you stood. Now that you were home, away from his family, away from it all. It was now just the two of you.

You and him.

“A liar?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did I say when I would?”

You brows furrowed, “After breakfast.”

“And is lunch not after breakfast?”

Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Dick.”

Aemond’s demeanour changed entirely, posture straightening which gave him an extra inch of height. He looked down his nose at you as he watched you take a smirking step back, “Come here.”

You had to push down the flurry of excitement that almost unleashed a giggle into the room, “Make me.”

Your chest rose and fell sharply as you watched Aemond take a slow step towards you, and then another.

“Last chance, baby. Come here.”

"No."

Spinning on your heel you ran towards your room, Aemond's boots beating on the floorboards behind you coming closer. Hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, squeal erupting from your chest as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“That was very naughty of you.” His voice whispered hoarsely at your ear from behind, hot breath fanning down your neck.

You stifled a whimper as his fingers dug into your skin before he threw you down onto the bed, face first. Your hands flew outwards, catching yourself as your hips hit the end of the bed. Aemond was on you in an instant, pawing at your dress as he ripped it off of you.

“This what you want, huh? Want me to put you in your place? Little brat.”

Your hands moved behind you to tried to slap his arms as he yanked your panties down your legs in one long swoop. Aemond tutted from behind you as he kicked your legs apart, your lip caught in your teeth as you tried not to whimper.

“Look at you. Already soaked. Such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

His hand cast down onto the flesh of your ass and you cried out, back arching as the delicious sting spread through your skin. He pulled your cheeks apart roughly and spat onto your dripping entrance.

“Filthy little fuck hole.” Aemond growled, and you mewled as you felt his spit run between your thighs and drip down onto the floor below.

His fingers smeared his spit into your folds, parting them easily as he looked down at you and cooed, your head craning back to watch him as he chuckled darkly, “What am I going to do with you, hm? You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy, baby?”

Your legs tried to shut so that you could apply pressure with the squeezing of your thighs, but Aemond's legs were in the way, preventing you from getting any release of the tingling that spread through your aching centre.

“Please.” You murmured, pouting at him the best you could in the hopes that it would entice him to take you right then and there.

Another chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let one long finger circle around your entrance, the tip of it just barely pushing inside before it came back out again, teasing you.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” He hummed.

“Please, Aemond.”

“Not my name, sweetheart.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes sliding shut, “Please daddy.”

The warmth from his body disappeared as he stepped back, your eyes opening to find him looking down at you with a stern face. Your heart raced in your chest, his height towering over you, dominance dripping from his every fibre of his being.

“Kneel.”

Gods be good.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, his hands coming to undo his belt buckle slowly, watching as you didn’t move. He pulled the belt slowly from the loops, to soft flipp loud in the room. The belt dropped to the floor with a thud.

“I said,” Aemond moved quicker than you could react, grabbing a fist full of your hair and dragging you off of the bed onto your knees, “Kneel.”

The wooden floor bit into the skin on your knees sharply, but it was dull in comparison to the sheer desire to be ravaged by the man in front of you.

Long fingers slowly dragged down the zipper of his pants, opening it with languid movements as he kept his eye completely and utterly upon your face.

“Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You watched as he pulled his hard length from his briefs, running his fist from base to top slowly, the tip leaking a drop of precum that he smeared down his shaft.

Aemond hummed, “What? Can’t talk now?”

You shook your head defiantly as he took a step closer, “I’m going to ask you one last time,” His voice grew deeper, darker, and it added to the slick that was settling in the crux of your thighs, “Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You shook your head.

No.

Liar.

Aemond clicked his tongue at you in disappointment before sighing loudly, “Thought you’d say that. I’ve got a better use for that mouth of yours.” One hand in your hair, he tugged you forward, “Open.”

You don’t know what it was about this man, or what he did to you to make you the way you were with him. The way he absolutely ruined every inch of your mind and thoughts, the urge to both please him and defy him coursing through you all at once, but you wouldn’t give in. No, you needed him to react, you needed him to take what he wanted from you with force.

So biting the insides of your cheeks to keep you from smiling, you defiantly kept your mouth shut as you looked up at him from your knees.

The corner of his lip twitched as he hummed at you.

The sting across your cheek came quickly and stunned you enough to open your mouth in a gasp, exactly as he had planned when he slapped you. He grabbed your jaw with the entirety of his hand and squeezed at the joint meanly, mouth falling open further in pain.

Aemond slid his cock straight into your open lips, his heady weight sitting upon your tongue as he looked down at you, still holding the base with one hand, your jaw in the other.

“There you go. Far more useful with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted, pulling out slowly as you curled your tongue upwards, running it along the underside of his shaft, pressing into the long vein that travelled along it.

Aemond began to thrust into the back of your throat, letting go of the base so that the whole length of him would slide into your mouth. His cock was salty on your tongue, hot, swollen, and heavy in your mouth as he forced you to take him as deep as it would go.

You gagged on his length, eyes watering as you shut them tightly.

Two little slaps on your cheek made your eyes open back up, staring at him as he looked down at you, “Eyes on me while I fuck this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You moaned around his length, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension that was building between them. But it was fruitless. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, and what you needed was his fingers, his tongue, or his cock inside of you.

The silver haired man thrusted into your mouth the way he would into your cunt, deep, long and hard, his tip beating against the back of your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and exactly what you had wanted.

You wanted him to use you like this, to get it all out, to get out all the tension that had been hovering over him the minute he stepped into the Keep.

He needed this just as much as you did.

A thick line of saliva ran down your chin, dripping onto your thighs below as both hands wrapped around the sides and back of your skull, dragging your head up and down his length roughly. His brow was furrowed as he watched, mouth agape as he breathed shallowly and grunted.

“Look at you," He cooed down at you, "Just a hole for me to fuck. Just a little slut begging for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

You hummed around his length, sucking your cheeks inwards as much as you could. Aemond hissed at the pressure, eye sliding shut momentarily as his hips stuttered.

It was a glorious sight.

You below him, looking up as his head was thrown back, ecstasy breaking out on his features as his pearly hair cascaded around his shoulders.

Your head was pulled away, length slipping from your lips as you gasped for air, a line of spit connecting you to his tip as he cooed at you.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth wider, tongue poking out for him. His cheeks hollowed and then Aemond spat onto your tongue, its warmth spreading from your mouth, all the way through your body.

You moved to shut your mouth to swallow for him like you thought he wanted, but he stopped you with a finger, pressing down on your tongue as he smeared his spit along the wet, pink muscle messily.

With little care, two fingers slid down to the back of your throat as he looked at you, your mouth still open waiting for a command. Aemond slowly fucked your throat with his fingers, grinning at the small gags that he elicited from the action, before pulling his fingers from your mouth, smearing his spit and yours across your face, the wetness sticking to your heated cheeks.

“Such a messy girl. So dirty.” He purred, lining his cock back up to your mouth which you took with ease, except this time, Aemond didn’t fuck your throat.

He slid his length all the way down your throat, cock pressing into your gag reflex and blocking off your air. Your nose met his pelvis as he looked down at you, shaking your head slightly side to side on his length.

“Hold it.” He growled, watching as a tear ran down your cheek as you tried to not cough or splutter on his length, chest heaving as you gagged, no air being able to pass through your nose.

Your head grew dizzy as you looked at him, lungs beginning to burn, but still he didn’t let you pull back. Holding you down onto him by the back of your head.

Your hands flew to his thighs for grip as you tried to pull away, but Aemond kept his cock nestled deeply in your throat.

“You can do it, pretty girl." He told you, "Five more seconds.”

Another tear slid down your cheek, the weight of him in your throat making your core flutter around nothing.

“Five.” He began to count down, watching as you squirmed below him.

“Four.” Your nails dug into his flesh harshly as you tried to keep on him, throat swallowing around him tightly in reflex, causing a shiver to roll through his body.

“Three.”

“Two.” He grunted, pulling you down harder on his length causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“One.”

Aemond pulled you off his length, your lungs burning as you gasped in a lungful of air, spluttering and coughing at his feet.

“Good girl.” He praised, wiping the tears from your cheeks that had left wet tracks down your face.

You coughed softly, throat aching and head spinning, feeling embarrassed and aroused all in one. The head rush from lack of air was almost as intense as the head rush you got from your desire.

“Open.”

You licked your lips and swallowed doing as you were told, feeling Aemond slide his cock slowly into the back of your throat again, but this time, you inhaled a large lungful of air in preparation. He pulled your head down all the way, nose nestled into the hair at his base as he looked down at you.

“Good girl, baby. Look at you.” You moaned around his length, feeling tears in your eyes again as he nudged your gag reflex.

“Hold it.” His voice cracked, watching a tear slide down your cheek as he brushed hair away from your forehead gently, “You're going to hold it for ten this time.”

Ten.

Oh shit.

You didn't know if you could.

But you wanted to please him.

You wanted to be good for him.

“Ten.” Aemond began to count down again, pushing his hips slightly forward, making his cock go even deeper than you thought it could, throat bulging slightly from his length, your eyes widening as you squirmed below.

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.” Your core clenched as he counted, watching through blurry eyes as he looked at you on your knees before him.

“S-ix.” He moaned, eye sliding shut as he felt your throat closing around him as your body tried to swallow the blockage that was his cock.

“Five.”

The room spun slightly and you began to shift below him, brain controlling you as it tried to pull you away to get air into your lungs instinctually.

“Four." Heat rose in your cheeks as you squirmed, head trying to move backwards from his grip.

"Stay still." He growled down at you. Despite his command, you still wriggled, slick sliding between your thighs as it began to drip down onto the floor below.

“Almost there, baby. Three.”

Your arms tried to push yourself back, pure instinct taking over, your hands on his thighs, vision in the corner of your eyes going dark.

Was he purposely counting slow?

Oh Gods.

He was.

“Two.”

You were almost there. Your fingers fisted against his thighs, and despite his face being blurred by your tears above, you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic smile that pulled at his sharp lips.

“Two and three quarters.”

Dick.

Your eyes narrowed at him, causing the man to chuckle.

“One.”

You ripped yourself away with a gasp, falling backwards onto your bum as you coughed and spluttered, drool hanging from your lips as you tried to steady your breathing.

Aemond knelt in front of you, swiping up the spit on your chin, “Good girl. Such a good girl for me - You did so well.” You keened at his praise, leaning into his hand.

Aemond helped you to stand, pulling you over onto the bed as he stripped himself bare, watching as you still fought to catch your breath, devouring him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.

“Let's see how wet you are from me using your mouth like that, hm?”

You parted your legs on instinct, giving him view of your glistening folds.

Aemond inhaled sharply, “Look how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over the bed.”

You nodded your head dumbly, brain feeling light as a feather. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of previous airflow, or if it was the way he was treating you, slowly sinking you down into the comfortable little space you loved to float in with him.

“Are you all dumb, baby?” He meanly cooed at you with a sadistic pout, stroking the hair atop your head.

You nodded again as he chuckled at you, running his fingers through your slick folds, the sound of him parting them obscenely wet.

“Just from being daddy’s little fuck hole?”

You moaned, pushing your centre into his hand as he swirled a digit around your swollen clit, sparks of pleasure flying up inside of you. His finger dipped inside of you, immediately crooking upwards into the spot you needed it most.

“Look at this needy little pussy sucking me in. Do you need daddy to help you?”

You moaned at him, thrusting your hips downwards onto his hand as he added another finger, beginning to fuck them inside of you.

“Use your words.”

It took whatever remaining braincell that was left inside your head to string together one measly word, “Please.”

Aemond smirked, “Please what, little dummy.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Come on. Use your big girl words or you won’t get anything.”

“Please, daddy. P-please fuck me.”

Aemond smiled victoriously, kissing a tear that was drying against your cheek, “There we go. That must have been real hard when you're all dumb, wasn’t it?

You whined at his teasing, and then again when he removed his fingers.

“Shh.” He hushed you, “Daddy’s going to give you just what you need.”

And he did.

Aemond slid into you immediately, aided by how wet and open you were for him. He sighed into the crook of your neck, your legs immediately wrapping around him as he began to fuck into you, slowly building up the pace.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, his hips snapping into your own as pleasure bloomed within. You moaned and cried beneath him, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen bud with each deep and rough thrust he gave you.

“You gonna cum already? I can feel you gripping me.” He huffed, watching his length disappear into your folds.

“Please.” You wailed, hands gripping the sheets beside you tightly in your fists as you begged him with your eyes.

Aemond took pity on you and slid a hand down to your pearl, rolling it in time with his thrusts, “Come on then. Cum on my cock.”

It took four sharp thrusts before your eyes screwed shut, stars appearing behind them as you came with an earth shattering cry. Aemond fucked you through it, hips and hand not once still until you were a sobbing and slick mess beneath him.

“Fucked the brat right out of you, didn’t I? Pretty little baby.” He moaned, rutting into your centre as the sound of your arousal surrounded you, the hair at the base of his cock soaked with your release, “Just needed me to fuck you stupid, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t form any words, mouth hanging open as little whines and pants flittered off of your tongue. It was overwhelming, and the pleasure of your first peak was yet to settle, bliss sizzling and burning within your gut in a way that continued to mount as he kept rubbing your pearl.

It was almost painful.

“Give me another.” Aemond grunted, pressing his fingers against you again harder, watching as you tried to shift your hips and escape his circling digits.

But it was no use, and Aemond ripped yet another peak from you with precision, your head lulling to the side tiredly as your body was thrust up the bed with his hips. You laid limply beneath him as he continued to fuck you, lip pulled into your mouth by your teeth as you whimpered.

“Fuck.” He gritted out through his teeth, hand releasing your clit out of mercy as he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, fucking into you harder and faster than before, beating the air from your lungs with each thrust.

“Gonna fill up this little pussy.” He moaned, watching as your brows pulled together, walls fluttering around his length.

“You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded your head, tear leaking from the corner of your eye as he continued to rut into you rapidly, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides to prevent the blood flow to your head whilst allowing for air, amplifying your pleasure and making you float even further.

“Gonna cum in your cunt.” He moaned, using the grip on your neck to pull your weight down onto his cock, spearing you open with each thrust.

It was too much.

It was-

Oh Gods-

You were-

Your brain went blank as ecstasy shot through it, scrambling any thought that you had. You heard his cry as he came deep within you, his warmth filling you up, but there was a second wetness that you noticed, that soaked the sheets below you.

It took a while to come back down to yourself, held in Aemond’s arms as he brushed gentle hands over you, holding you to him. You felt warm, safe, and completely and utterly exhausted. You shifted to look up at him, watching as his eye opened to look down at you.

“Back on earth?” He asked softly, watching as you weakly smiled at him, nuzzling into his bare chest. His chuckle vibrated against your cheek.

“Come on, we got to get you cleaned up.”

You buried your head deeper into his chest, “Don’wanna.”

Lips pressed at the top of your head, “Come on. I need to change the sheets.”

This caught your attention.

Had you gotten your period?

Were you sweatier than you had thought?

You lifted your head to look at him, to which he gave you a smug little smile.

“You made quite the mess.”

You frowned, embarrassment creeping into your chest.

“Nothing bad.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead, “You ever squirted before?”

Squirted?

“As much as I love watching your mind turn and work, I’m lying in your wet patch.” He chuckled, shifting to lift you out of the bed.

Low and behold, there it was.

A large wet patch below Aemond that spread out against your sheets, proof of your pleasure and the peaks that Aemond took you too. And despite having no shame, and being roughly and thoroughly fucked not too long ago, heat still flooded your cheeks at the sight.

After lazing in bed for only an allowed moment more, Aemond helped you to the shower, your legs weak like jelly as he washed you and brushed your hair, taking off your makeup with gentle steady hands that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Ever the gentleman, he popped you on the couch as he changed your sheets, remaking your bed before he put on the load of washing. It was entirely domestic, and watching him as he moved, as he doted. on you, as he fluttered around your space which had irrevocably also became his, it only seemed to make the little part of him that had burrowed into your chest go deeper.

You ordered in that evening, getting pizza in a strange reminder of what it had been like when he first moved in. The same pizza order, the same pizza place, the same two spots on the couch as you ate.

The two of you had come a long way since then. A very long way, and in many ways, coming to a place that you would not have thought possible or even to have thought to cross your mind.

You watched his favourite movie in comfortable silence after eating your dinner, before suddenly you remembered something. You jumped up from your spot, hissing slightly at the soreness between your thighs as you ran to retrieve two spoons from the drawer, then opening the freezer door to dig around inside.

Ah.

There it was.

The forgotten tub of ice cream you had carelessly thrown inside when a certain person was in your home.

You held it triumphantly as you walked back to the couch, holding it as you would a prized jewel on show for him. Aemond chuckled at your antics as you pulled the lid clean off, offering him a spoon.

“The first dip, My Lord.” You joked, bowing your head to him.

Aemond huffed a laugh, the pressure of him digging into the tub with his spoon pushed into your wrist.

“Ñuha Riña.”

The accent sent a pulse straight to your core.

Down girl.

You dipped your spoon in after him, lifting it to your lips, “What does that mean?”

“My Lady." Aemond hummed, returning his attention back to the tv.

You savoured the ice cream, the tub becoming half full in no time as you slowly but surely demolished it together. It felt good to be at his side, to know where you both stood. To know what you both wanted, and for it to not be a secret anymore.

But you still couldn't get your mind to stop thinking about the way his tongue had rolled when speaking High Valyrian.

“Aemond?” You turned your head to look at his profile, watching as his tongue darted out to lick at his spoon.

“Hm?”

“Will you teach me?”

His brows furrowed, “Teach you what?”

“High Valyrian.” You asked him shyly, suddenly feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him that at all. Maybe he wouldn't want to teach you that. Maybe it was a family thing only.

Was that weird of you to ask?

Would it be a reminder of the tension back at home?

A reminder of his father?

Your swirling thoughts of doubt were cut short as a soft smile spread across his shape cheeks.

“Hen rhinka.” Of course.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

My love.

That night you slept in each others embrace, fresh and warm sheets on the bed, surrounded by his scent. It was no wonder that you drifted off to sleep so easily after the romp you had had earlier, not to mention how tumultuous the days before had been.

Yet when you woke the next morning, you felt refreshed, ready for a new start.

A new day.

A new beginning.

With him.

Aemond wasn’t in bed with you, but rather than feeling any sort of panic or anxiety about his absence, you crawled out of bed and went to where you knew he would be.

Standing tall, leant against the bench, Aemond sleepily sipped from his coffee in the kitchen as he blew the smoke from his cigarette through the open window. He was clad in only black shorts, his silver hair messy and tangled, and the press of his pillow embedded in his cheek.

Hearing your approach, he turned to you and smiled.

Your stomach did flips.

“Morning.”

The familiar sound of porcelain on the bench scraped in your ear.

There, at the base of his fingers, was your steaming mug of tea.

You took it gratefully from him with a smile before sidling up to his side, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped one arm around your shoulders pulling you closer.

“What do you want to do today?” You looked up at him, watching as he smiled down at you.

“Anything you want.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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@mrstargayen09 @iamavailablesstuff @malfoytargaryen @hogwarts1207 @diannnnsss @seni039 @qyburnsghost @anehkael @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @watercolorskyy @skikikikiikhhjuuh @toodlesxcuddles @kaelatargaryen @aemonds-fire @anitazut @melsunshine @persephonerinyes @wintrr13@arcielee @coffedraven @happinessinthebeing @zairishmya @hanula18 @lovejustlovelythings-blog @harryssunflxwer @spinachtz @bellaisasleep @aemshaircare @heavenly1927 @yentroucnagol @snh96 @thedamewithabook @hanula18 @sweethoneyblossom1 @siriusblackrunmeover17 @yentroucnagol @urmomsgirlfriend1 @carriellie @ipostwhtifeel@queenofshinigamis @toodlesxcuddles @the-common-cowgirl@ladymarg0t @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion @diiickbrainn @rawrxbexjealous @virtualsweetsqueen @adeliciouslysaltybitch @tsujifreya @boofy1998 @docmartinis @rabbit-reveries @bel-bottoms @padfooteyes @cryingforlife

Bold is who I cannot tag

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