mrsriddlenott

[mrsriddlenott]

let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this blurb

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

masterlist

3.8k words

warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.

He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.

At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.

“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.

“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.

“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.

Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."

“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.

“I'd rather go alone."

“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."

“I'm okay."

You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.

“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.

“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.

You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"

“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"

You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.

"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”

"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”

“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."

Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.

You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.

“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.

“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.

“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.

He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.

“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.

Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.

“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.

“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”

Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.

As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.

“Yeah."

“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.

You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.

The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.

“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.

You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.

You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.

“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”

"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.

He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.

“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?

“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?

You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.

‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.

“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.

Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know."

You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.

“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.

You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.

“Where's the necklace?"

“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.

He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.

“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.

For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."

Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.

“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.

“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.

Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”

"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”

"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.

You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."

“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.

“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.

“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.

“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.

"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.

His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair fanfic

[mrsriddlenott]

Ex!Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader

Angsty asf,Break Ups, Language, Voldemort, Wizarding War.

Summary: You and Mattheo were just wrong for each other, destined to be ripped apart. He hurt you trying to protect you, and even apart is trying to protect you still, but he can’t think of everything.

“We’re done okay, I am done. I don’t want this anymore Mattheo,” You screamed as he stopped, shocked in front of you, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“What are you- you’re not saying….” You scoffed as he approached you again, stepping back so he couldn’t touch you like he so desperately wanted to. “You can’t be serious y/n we basically just started.”

“No we didn’t! That’s the fucking problem, we’ve been doing this for months and I thought it meant something to you and then I find out your friends don’t even know who I am??” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as he tried to speak, “You wasted my time, if you wanted to just be fuck buddies I’d have been fine with that and I would have kept it a secret for you if you asked but you made me feel like…..” You laughed at your own stupidity as you turned away from Mattheo’s pleading eyes.

“Princess I didn’t just-“ You cut him off before he could finish, turning back around yelling as tears welled in your eyes, “You lied to me Mattheo, you said you wanted something real, you told me you wanted someone you could trust and that you had finally found someone and all along you were the untrustworthy one!” Mattheo’s hands fell to his sides as he tried to form words, but nothing would come out.

“Were you embarrassed of me?! Is that why? Did you feel like all your rich, perfect friends would hate you for being with me or did you just want me for fun until you needed to find the pureblood future wife your father expects you to have!?” You breathed heavily as you registered your words, his eyes shone with tears at the mention of his father and only locked on yours for a second before turning to your door and tugging it open.

Mattheo stopped, weighing the odds before turning back to you with tears in his eyes, “I’d much rather marry you….but that can’t happen because he won’t allow it. I guess we did waste our time after all.” And in a matter of seconds he was gone, from the dorm, the school, from your life, no one actually knew were he went but there were rumors he left to join his father’s cause, which you just couldn’t allow yourself to think were true.

It had been weeks since you last saw his face or heard his voice, after months of seeing each other in every second of free time it hurt to wake to the reminder that you were alone. But today was different, when you dressed and returned to your bed after a morning shower a neat envelope awaited your arrival, you recognized his hand writing immediately and tore it open.

Y/n, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I’ve done now, when you hear it you’re going to hate me and the thought breaks me. Please don’t blame yourself because I had to, I could never let him hurt you and despite everything I did to keep you safe he found out about you. He made me do things I can’t say here, things I see in my dreams on nights you stray from them but I promise one day you will be happy and safe. I will give up my life to make it so.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to fathom what Mattheo had done, what his father could have forced him to do. What he had done to protect you. You crashed to your knees, sobbing and wishing you could somehow get a timeturner to go back to that night, beg him to stay, apologize for being so stupid. Of course he had kept you a secret for your own protection, the son of Voldemort couldn’t be walking around with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who could barley pass by. He had kept his friends in the dark so they couldn’t tell anyone, he had snuck you around the school, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted you safe. You had to get him back, no matter what he did in his father’s name he was yours and you were his, always.

By the next week everyone had heard the stories, Muggle and Muggleborns being tortured, “traitors” to the cause being executed, you didn’t know if he was involved, not for sure but a part of you knew. There were signs, people whispering about a new lord in training, a new way for Voldemort to gain power using his son as a weapon. It wasn’t long before most of Mattheo’s friends had gone too, making it all the more obvious where he had gone. It hurt you more to know he was doing it for you, every name of the missing and dead reminded you it was all to protect you. You began to lose hope that you’d ever see him again, that he was lost, forever his father’s minion.

You sat with your back against the cold stone wall of the astronomy tower, letting the smoke of an un-hit cigarette waft past you as you lost yourself in a deep thought. You had been having trouble sleeping, imaging the awful things being done to Mattheo and by Mattheo was bad enough but it only got worse at night. You’d found yourself gravitating to Mattheo’s spot often these days, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what life would be like in a few months. You’d be gone from Hogwarts for good, and who knew what that meant for you now, you had just begun to imagine leaving into the world alone when the sound of rushed footsteps caught you off guard, but not more than the voice that came with the halt of shoes on marble, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be in your dorm,” He spun around to watch the door, cursing to himself as though a plan had gone terribly wrong, and you supposed it had.

He looked tired, his hair disheveled with large bags under his eyes and his voice seemed different, harder, “You need to get the fuck up now and run, just go hide somewhere please if they see you they’ll” He was cut off by the sound of more boots quickly ascending the steps up the tower before he was grabbing you and aggressively trying to shove you into a closet too late.

“There’s the girl,” a gruff male voice shouted as the door swung open, “Knew if we followed you we’d find her.” Mattheo’s head hung as his voice broke, “no, no, I didn’t do it all for nothing.” He turned quickly, his arms out and blocking you body with his, “He can’t have her, I did everything he asked.”

“Clearly not since you’re here,” a second, larger man, cackled out, “Didn’t Daddy tell you to sit tight up in your mansion Pretty Boy.” The man laughed as though he was the funniest man alive as everyone stared back and forth, recognizing all four of us wouldn’t be leaving this room if things didn’t go as planned. “He can’t have her.” Mattheo spat again, with less conviction.

“Well you know the deal Handsome, and the Dark Lord is tired of waiting on your decision, you take the mark, we leave this pretty little thing alone and you never speak to her again….if not we have orders to make her death last awhile.” You flinched behind Mattheo’s muscular frame, not at your impending, excruciating death, but at the thought of Mattheo officially joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. If he had the mark there was no way out, no convincing the courts to spare him, even if he survived after all he had done that mark is a one way ticket to a Dementor’s Kiss. “No Mattheo you can’t”

Mattheo turned to you as your voice shook, tears falling down both your faces as he grabbed your cheeks tightly, kissing you as though you were air and he was hyperventilating. His head rested on your forehead as he thumbed your tears away, “I don’t have a choice Baby, I love you and I always will.” He tugged you into his arms, his lips next to your ear as he whispered low enough just for you to hear, “I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you, but I want you to live your life, when you get out of here run and forget me, become a Healer like you wanted and know I’m looking out for you.” He slipped away from you, leaving one final kiss on your temple before he was tugged from the room and from your life.

And you knew, from your safety, that he had taken the mark and would eventually take his father’s place as the Dark Lord if the war didn’t end soon. Maybe then, with all that power, he could end the war and return to you, a fantasy that gave you hope in the darkest days of the war.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter fandom #harry potter oneshot #yn #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #harry potter angst #angst #hp angst #fluff #harry potter fluff #hp fluff #death eaters #hufflepuff reader #angsty #x reader #x yn #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #the dark lord

[mrsriddlenott]

I recently have become obsessed with The Hunger Games again, I wanna write some for the characters and wanna see if anyone wants that? Ik I mainly post Harry Potter which I will still be doing but I wanna branch out to the other fandoms I enjoy as well.

#the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #thg #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #thg peeta #thg fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #smut #hunger games smut #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth smut #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark smut #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #the hunger games smut #tbosbas #tbosas #coryo snow #coryo smut #coriolanus x reader #tbosbas smut

[mrsriddlenott]

Best Friend!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Angsty but a Happy Ending, kinda college AU but not important, some Fluff, no real warnings besides language.

Kinda trying a newish style so lmk if it’s better or worse or if you don’t mind either way.

Summary: When your best friend Theo sleeps with your childhood bully in a moment of weakness, wanting you.

Theo Nott had never had a shortage of girls at his disposal. He could have fun whenever he wanted. With whoever he wanted. So why wasn’t he having fun without her here. She was mad at him, he knew that, but he never would have thought she’d missed his celebration party. He had basically just won the team their whole match for fucks sake. So where the hell was she?

Okay, maybe he had crossed a line last night but she would have said something if she was mad enough to skip his party….right? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been with girls around her before. He didn’t realize his feet were carrying him to her dorm room until he was already banging on the cracking wood and breathing heavily as he spoke, “Come on y/n/n you gotta come out and celebrate with me.”

The door creaked open only a slit, a smile quickly painting his face as her gorgeous eyes he feared he’d never see again peaked around it, “Hey you,” He said through his smile, “Are you gonna come out to the party?” His face fell as he attempted to enter the room, only for the door to be held firm making him chuckle nervously, eyeing what he could see of her.

“Um I’m actually a bit tired and I think-“ The sound of a distinctly familiar chuckle had his eyebrows shooting up his face, only now was he realizing the scent of overly expensive cologne….and arrogance. Her eyes shut tightly as she huffed out in annoyance, allowing Theo to shove into her dorm room to see Draco Malfoy perched shirtless on her bed as though he was the king of the world. For some reason he couldn’t stomach the sight of it, him, his teammate, his friend, on the bed he spent most of his weekends on, his safe space for him and his favorite girl.

“We were a little busy Theo so if you don’t mind.” Draco propped himself up as he spoke, using her favorite stuffed animal, which he himself had won her a few summers ago and he snapped. “Get the fuck out.” He didn’t understand why he took it so personally, Draco probably didn’t even know the little cat was y/n’s favorite which made it all the more infuriating, “Get your fucking shirt and get out or I will throw you out Malfoy, and we both already know who will win that fight.”

Draco laughed as he yanked his shirt off the floor before shooting a wink in y/n’s direction and slipping out the door still half naked while Theo slammed it behind him. “What the fuck were you thinking, Draco fucking Malfoy, seriously?!” Her face was shocked but angry, so angry his breath picked up and his heart raced as he tried to calm down and speak softly. For a long moment the room was nearly silent, she was waiting for him to speak but he couldn’t.

She scoffed at him before starting up, “Oh so you can get with whoever you want but I can’t, is that how this works now?” Her eyes were watering, he could see them glistening but she didn’t let the tears fall and he couldn’t hold his own back if she hadn’t as well. “It’s Draco y/n. He’s just using you.”

“Okay? And maybe I’m using him too, maybe I just wanted him to fuck my brains out like he promised,” The thought had bile rising up his throat as anger began to overtake him, “Maybe I just wanted to forget the image of you fucking Pansy Parkinson at a party you threw for me!”

She huffed at him as her eyes rolled, he couldn’t form words, he didn’t know what to say, it’s not like the truth would be any good. He had fucked Pansy and of course he knew somewhere deep down she would be mad but he couldn’t admit he was only with Pansy that night because he wanted y/n. It was a pitiful excuse and made no sense even to him, he was looking for her, he wanted her and he was finally going to tell her. But there she was. Dancing and laughing and having fun without him. He needed her, in every meaning of the word, his world would crash and burn without y/n but hers would go on spinning, clearly. It could have been any girl really but Pansy was there and he didn’t think.

The look on y/n’s face when she walked in on them hurt him more than anything he could imagine. She had come looking for him. To spend the rest of the party with him he guessed, and he hated himself for ruining it. “Are you gonna say anything?! You fucked the girl who made my life hell for years at Hogwarts Theo, did you even think about how that would make me feel? How that would make this friendship look?” She hadn’t called him anything but Teddy in years and somehow it was that which broke him. He was crying now, stumbling over failed sentences as he tried to explain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you’re right I didn’t think. I was looking for you and I- I fuck you were right there and I should have come up to you anyway but you were so happy and you didn’t need me.” His words spewed out uncontrollably, he didn’t know he could feel half the things he felt for her and he couldn’t explain most but he would keep going until she kicked him out, “You never needed me, you’re so perfect and independent and I rely on you so much, I can barely get out of bed without you waking me up.” He watched her face as she watched his, she was hurt and confused but listening nonetheless so he continued.

“I don’t know when to stop okay, and that’s not an excuse it’s not I just needed someone….I needed you and I wanted you and I couldn’t have you, and when I went to leave she was there and she wanted me and I’m such an idiot I know that. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t even think of how she bullied you all those years ago and I’m such a bad friend, you deserve better you really do.” He fell to his knees as her tears dripped down her cheeks to the floor, he couldn’t stop his own sobs as he cradled his face in his hands, “I can’t lose you.” He mumbled through his tears as he heard her feet shuffle around.

He jolted, eyes finding hers much closer than expected as her warm hand cradled his shoulder, “I don’t want to forgive you, but I love you and I need you more than you know, the only reason I’m so calm without you is because I have to balance out your insanity.” You chuckled through tears, “I can’t be mad at you for sleeping with her, you’re both adults and we were all children when we started at Hogwarts and it’s been long enough that we can leave that in it’s corridors. It….it just hurt because….I” She sighed before she continued, “I was jealous, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t really mad because you fucked Pansy, I’d be mad if I walked in on you with anyone….because they aren’t me Teddy.”

His heart broke as he heard her, he wanted to be with her since he was a child, he loved her in more ways he thought possible and every time he thought it was done growing he found a way to love her more. And now he knew she felt the same.

~~~~

#theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott oneshot #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott #fluff #hp fluff #harry potter #hp #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #harry potter fandom #hp fanfcition #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #angst #theo nott angst #theodore nott angst #harry potter angst #hp angst #harry potter oneshot #yn

[mrsriddlenott]

I’m feeling in an angsty mood today, might write some tearjerkers tonight😊😌

#angst #harry potter angst #hp angst #theo nott angst #theodore nott angst #hp fic #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #x yn #fanfic

[mrsriddlenott]

OMGG HII i'm so happy to see that you're back🥹 and i'm so glad to hear that things are better!!! also pauses from writing are completely fine and valid so don't let anyone make you feel bad about them!!!‼️‼️🤍🤍 welcome back🫂

Hiii!!!! Thank you, I have been so upset with myself for not posting on here and worried that when I got back to posting no one would care to read what I post. I’m glad to be back and so happy to finally be able to enjoy my writing again and get it out to others who enjoy it!!!!💗💕

[mrsriddlenott]

Hi y’all, I want to start writing some new smaller blurb like posts on here while I ease back into writing my usual work. I’m back in school and settled away from drama for the most part and hope no one is annoyed about my absence. I am gonna be back posting hopefully by tomorrow and I have started up working on my ongoing stories and backed up requests again, in other words, I am back!!!! I missed posting so much but I couldn’t find the time or energy to do so and I hope that isn’t a bad reason because I genuinely love this account.

-💗💕

#harry potter #hp #hp fandom #hp fanfic #tvd fandom #the vampire diaries #outerbanks #obx #obx fandom #i am back

[mrsriddlenott]

demonstration

words: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating

“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.

“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.

“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.

“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.

--

“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.

“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.

“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.

“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.

“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”

“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.

“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.

“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.

“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”

“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.

“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”

--

rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.

“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.

“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric. 

“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. 

“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.

“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”

“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.

“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.

topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.

“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.

��yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.

“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.

“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.

“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.

toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.

“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.

“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.

“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.

“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”

“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.

“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.

“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.

“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.

“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.

“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.

topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.

he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”

topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.

“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”

topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.

“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.

“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.

topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.

“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.

“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.

“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.

“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.

“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.

“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.

“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”

“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.

“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.” 

topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.

“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.

“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.

“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.

“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --

rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.

“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.

“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”

rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.

“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”

“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.

“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.

rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.

“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.

“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.

“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.

“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.

“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.

“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.

“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”

despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.

“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.

“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.

“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.

you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal. 

rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.

“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.

“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.

“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.

“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.

“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #topper smut #topper thorton smut #topper thorton x reader #topper thorton imagine #topper thorton fanfic #rafe cameron imagine

[mrsriddlenott]

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

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

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

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

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

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

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

Finnick Odair.

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

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

That was what everyone made him out to be.

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

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

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

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

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

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

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look at thi—"

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

Damn that stupid seashell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed.

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

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

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

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

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

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

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

How did he keep doing that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who could've guessed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Better?" he asked.

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

"Anytime."

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

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

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

How could he?

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

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

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

"Stop moving."

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

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

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

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

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

"Fuck," he breathed out.

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

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

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

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

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

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

Finnick was silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

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

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

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

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

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes,"you practically whined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is what did it for you.

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

"Taking it so well."

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

"Such a good girl."

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

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

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

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

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

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

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

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

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

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

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

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

"Feeling better?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the explosion.

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

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

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

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

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

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come inside you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a new moon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For an entire hour?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too."

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

...roll credits

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x fem!reader

[mrsriddlenott]

office hours

words: 1.4k

warnings: maybe inappropriate workplace relationship lol

“sorry for the interruption, mr. cameron, i need your signature on this.” 

rafe groans, suddenly jolted out of his groove. he holds a hand out, and his employee drops the stack into his hand. rafe thumbs it over quickly, it’s just an expected agreement for a merger, already signed by his company’s lawyer, so he scrawls his name on the line and shoves the paper away, turning back to his computer.

“nelson, wait.” rafe calls right before he can leave the office. the man turns around nervously. it’s no secret that rafe is a tough boss to work for. he can snap over little mistakes, because he wants everything to be absolutely perfect, but if you keep your head down and do solid work, you can rack in a lot of money.

“no interruptions unless it’s an emergency.” rafe says, and nelson nods, knowing it’s now on him to make sure nobody disturbs the bossman, otherwise it’ll not just be the interrupters head, but his as well.

rafe turns back to his email, finishing typing it and not even bothering to read it over before hitting send. he looks waywardly at the stack of papers that’s his next assignment. it’s the end of the financial year, so everyone has been extra busy.

rafe opens the first binder, quickly going over just the bits he needs to. he works quickly through the second and is onto the third when his concentration breaks by a commotion outside of the only semi sound proof glass walls of his imposing office.

rafe waits for it to die down, but it doesn’t. with a sigh, he gets up out of his chair, giving a glare to the ‘ceo’ nameplate on his desk. he loved the power of running a company, but goddamn, did he sometimes hate the work that came with it. he just hopes whatever all the noise is about isn’t petty drama, otherwise there will be firings before it hits 5pm.

“he said not to be disturbed!” rafe hears nelson say as the door swings silently shut behind him.

“unless it’s an emergency, it’d say mckenzie inc pulling out is a fucking emergency!” rafe can’t let this go on any further as more people begin yelling at nelson, unaware that rafe was watching them. “shut the fuck up!”

you could hear a pin drop with how quickly a silence fell over the crowd. “is mckenzie inc pulling out?” it’s still silent, so rafe gives the crowd a general glare.

“it’s only a rumor, sir.” 

“from who?” he asks. rafe doesn’t recognize the name spoken back to him. it’s so goddamn much to keep up with every single other company that they partner with.

“take ten minutes to gather up everything you know and then meet me in the conference room.” rafe knows exactly what he is going to do with those ten minutes as he heads towards the stairwell, heading one floor down. he swears he’s going to tread wear patterns into the carpet with how many times he takes this same path.

he opens the door, unclenching his jaw that he didn’t even realized was clenched in the first place when you look up from your paper with a smile on your face. “hey rafe.”

“hi wifey.” he says, moving around your desk to hug you. you stand so you can put your arms over his shoulders, humming gently in approval at rafe squeezing your body against his.

“it’s only 4:30pm, are you going home early?” you ask him, rubbing your hands gently over his shoulders, knowing how much tension he holds in his body.

“there’s a rumor mckenzie inc is pulling out.” your face falls briefly before you put your happy mask back on, but rafe catches it. “i’m sorry baby. i called a meeting to figure it out, but i don’t know how long it’ll take. you go home if i’m not out by 5, okay?” rafe hates the thought of you leaving the office all alone, his sweet wife having to drive his obnoxious (your words, not his) sports car back to your house, making dinner all alone as rafe is stuck in a boardroom.

“it’s okay, i can wait for you.” you say, kissing rafes jaw gently as he nuzzles his nose into you. it’s definitely inappropriate, being married to your boss, but you were an accountant at this company before rafe took over as ceo, so no one really bats an eye. in fact, they’ve gotten used to politely hinting when they need help swaying your husband or calming him down.

“no, baby, i want you to go home.” rafe says, glancing at the clock.

“mmm, maybe.” you say, and rafe knows there’s no point in arguing with you when he has to get back up to the top floor. “hey.” you cup rafes cheek, seeing all that stress in his eyes. “i love you.”

rafe smiles gently, leaning down to peck your lips. “i love you too.” 

rafe hates having to leave, and briefly considers asking you to just come sit at the table up there, but he knows whenever you’re in the same room he can’t properly focus, always attuned to your needs, if your happy, if anyone is bugging you, if there’s a way for him to get his hands on you.

he steps into the boardroom and the chatter dies down. rafe sits down at the end of the table, looking pointedly at the poor soul who happened to sit closest to him. 

“there’s a possibly leaked report that mckenzie inc is pulling out of our deal, but i heard from my source that they just want to renegotiate their contract-” shouts of disagreement arise. rafe pinches his nose between his fingers. this will be a long night.

--

they’re not even done, but rafe knows if he spends literally another second with these people that he’s going to end up decking one of them in the face, so rafe calls for a half hour recess for dinner. he glances at his watch as he heads down the stairs. 6:30pm, an hour and a half after he’s hoping you left.

he’s hopeful when he notices your ceiling light turned off, but as he gets closer to your office he notices that you’re curled up in your office chair, peaceful look on your sleeping face illuminated only by the blue light of your computer screen that remains on.

rafe melts right on the spot, seeing you, his perfect little wife, fallen asleep at your desk because you don’t want to leave him.

he opens and closes the door gently, kneeling on the ground next to your chair. he places a hand gently over your head, rubbing your hair as softly as he can so you don’t startle awake. “hey, baby.” he whispers. 

you stir at his sweet voice, eyes fluttering until you place where you are. “mmm, how long did i sleep?” you ask.

“it’s 6:30 now. you should have gone home, are you hungry?” 

“‘m okay.” you say, sliding your knees down from the curled position in a big stretch. you grab your phone, checking your texts with a smile. rafe feels a brief flare of intense jealousy roll through him as he angrily thinks who the fuck is texting you and more importantly whothefuckistextingyouthatsmakingyouSMILE. but you turn your phone to show him and his thoughts are completely changed.

you: there’s a rumor that mckenzie inc is pulling out of their deal with us. can you tell me anything?

henrietta (mckenzie inc ceo wife): no clue where that rumor got started. just checked with richard and it’s not true. get you and rafe home!

you: thank you! saved us hours of headache. by the way, shall i drop off some strudels tomorrow? i got…

rafe stops reading the text message thread and looks up at you in awe. you giggle and drop your phone onto your desk, letting rafe pull you into a kiss. “you’re incredible.” he mumbles against your lips before capturing them again “amazing… genius… beautiful.”

you eventually have to pull away from kissing rafe. “you should go tell the guys and gals that it’s all good and they can head home.”

“they’ll figure it out.” rafe says, grabbing your bag and shoving your personal items in it. you look at him confused before he slings it over his shoulder, bending down to pick you up bridal style. “i’ve got to take you home right now before i have to explain to them what all the screaming and moaning they heard was.”

#rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

[mrsriddlenott]

How do you think the hg boys would react to Reader asking them to wear her purity ring on a chain after they take her virginity??

peeta isn’t all that into the concept of “taking your virginity” in a sexy way but he does find it romantic. i think he would be flattered and do it, but he doesn’t see it as like…ownership or anything, lol.

gale doesn’t wanna wear jewelry but he’d maybe but it on a keychain or keep it in his bedside drawer. the concept is hot, though, he just doesn’t like the idea of wearing a necklace.

finnick doesn’t really find the virginity thing hot, for…obvious reasons, i think. but if you were into it, he would humor it because it’s on your terms that he “owns” your virginity and that is special to him.

coriolanus finds it so fucking hot, he would always wear your ring but keep it tucked under his clothes most of the time, for safe keeping.

sejanus is flattered by the idea and would do it happily if you asked. he’s honored to have been your first, but it isn’t like a kinky thing for him.

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #sejanus plinth #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth x reader #coriolanus snow x reader

[mrsriddlenott]

stepbro!Rafe teaching reader how to do coke

You were a party girl and it was a matter of time before you were asking him to teach you how to do coke. It was what fueled his fire, and was a bad bad habit of his. He shouldn’t have been showing you something that would corrupt your sweet self. But there you sat next to him on the outside balcony of Tanneyhill, your parents along with Sarah and Wheezie gone.

The black amex card cutting the fluffy white powder into lines along the glass table. He took the hundred dollar bill he had and rolled it tightly between his ringed fingers. You watched through thick eyelashes as he held the bill up to his nose and leaned down where he snorted the powder in one swipe. He immediately sat back up, putting one finger on his nose to sniff the remaining dust.

Blue eyes blown out, he looked at you to hand you the rolled bill. You placed one end in your nose and leaned down, looking at your older step-brother for reassurance. He brushed your hair away, giving you a nod. “You can do it, sweetness. Just like I did.” His voice raspy.

You did exactly what he did, the white powder hitting your nose in seconds. The rush of energy you got as you sat up, immediately jumping in Rafe’s lap.

“Did I do good? You are an amazing teacher Rafey!” You giggled, your pupils blown.

The way you were sitting on him, your thick ass in that tiny skirt was pressed right against crotch. He watched your tits bounce as you were now moving up and down like the energizer bunny. His gorgeous sweet little step-sister high on coke that he was about to corrupt even more.

“Yeah? You wanna learn something else?” He husked out, his mind running a million miles.

You nodded excitedly, biting your lip as you waited for him to tell you what it was.

“I can’t teach you out here sugar.” He winked.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #stepbro!rafe #dark rafe cameron #obx #drew starkey

[mrsriddlenott]

GURLLLL HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY <3

#Hugs and kisses

Thank you thank youuu!!!! 💕❤️

[mrsriddlenott]

Ego (rockstar!anakin x reader)

warnings: band!au, AFAB!reader, spitting, light choking, praise, degradation, (mentioned) exhibitionism, (mentioned) public sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, m!receiving oral sex, rough sex, smoking, consumption of alcohol, anakin is kind of an asshole in his, but he loves you

masterlist

The concert was explosive. Your ears still ring from the deafening bass from the speakers next to the stage and your nose is filled with the scent of smoke and sulfur from the fireworks that lit off during the last song.

You push through the flow of the bustling crowd leaving the venue, as you make your way up to the stage. You climb over the barrier and skip up the stairs. You slip behind the curtain and walk through the backstage area to the back exit.

The roadies are wheeling the band’s equipment to the bus and are packing it up to be transported to the next city overnight. You cut in front of the train of carts and equipment and run towards the bus, your stiletto heels clicking on the wet pavement.

When you reach the door, you find it already open. You walk up the few stairs and find yourself standing in a cloud of cigarette smoke. The band is lounged on the leather couches, each with a bottle and a cigarette in either hand. Everyone cheers when they notice you; they all love you.

“There they are!” Kit exclaims.

Ahsoka, the newest addition to the band and the youngest of the group at 19, giggles loudly at something on her phone, obviously a little intoxicated.

You greet them all as you walk towards the couch towards your boyfriend. Anakin is lounging lazily on the couch, his feet kicked up on the arm of the couch, with a cigarette balanced between his fingers. He looks up at you as you walk by, eyes half-lidded and a little glazed. He smiles slowly as he takes in your outfit: tight pants, his band’s shirt cut and distressed into something very revealing, and high heels.

Anakin is wearing something of similar style: a sweat-stained dark gray t-shirt, black distressed skinny jeans, and large black boots that make him even taller. His piercings glitter in the low light, and his smudged eyeliner makes your knees weak.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, reaching his hand out to grab your waist.

“Hey, Ani,” you laugh as he guides you into his lap.

He puts his cigarette in his mouth to free his other hand to touch you. With a smirk, he pulls you up his body so you’re straddling his waist.

“The show was amazing tonight,” you say.

“God, it was,” he says, closing his eyes and grinning as he reminisces on the night.

There’s nothing Anakin loves more than attention. He’s the front man of the band, always has all eyes on him. Everyone in the crowd cheers for him, is there to see him, wants him. As much as Anakin loves to play his music, he loves the ego trip even more.

“Everyone loved you.”

“It was electric. I can still feel it,” Anakin said with a groan.

Being on stage turns all of Anakin’s emotions up to eleven, and he rides that high for a long while after the concert. Like now, he’s looking up at you with lust blown eyes and you can feel his cock growing harder underneath you.

“Don’t be a diva, Ani, they loved all of us,” Ahsoka chimes in.

“Please, if Kit’s ugly ass was our front man, that venue would be empty,” Anakin huffs. “Everyone wants what they can’t have, so they’ll buy songs and tickets and all the other stupid shit we come up with just so they can get a taste of what it’d be like to have me.”

“If your head gets any bigger, it’ll pop,” Aayla rolls her eyes.

“Well,” Anakin swings his legs around so his feet are back on the floor, keeping you in his lap. “In that case, I better make good use of my time before I get my brains all over the bus.”

Anakin places his hands under your thighs and stands up. You wrap your arms and legs around him and hold on tightly, your faces just inches apart.

“Ugh,” Ahsoka groans.

With a wide grin, Anakin walks you back to the bedroom at the back of the bus. It’s a large bed that Anakin has claimed since he put them on the map, much to the other’s annoyance. Anakin kicks open the door and takes one long stride before he’s dropping you down on your back atop the bed.

He shuts the door and makes quick work of shedding his sweaty t-shirt. His abs ripple when he puts his arms down and you find yourself staring at the tattoos that litter his abdomen, chest, and arms. You reach out to trace the stars mirrored on each of his hip bones, those being your favorite tattoos of his.

He looks down at you with exhaustion-heavy eyes, the liquor he undoubtedly had, not helping. Despite how tired he is, he needs to get the leftover adrenaline out of his system.

“You’re not even gonna let me kiss you first?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow.

“You taste like cigarettes.”

“That’s how I got you addicted to me in the first place,” he smirks as he reaches up to graze his thumb over your jaw.

“Trust me, that’s not what got me addicted.”

“No? Then what was?” he smiles as he waits for an answer. “My money? My fame? My dick?”

You roll your eyes. “Kiss me, you idiot.”

Anakin grins as he bends down to kiss you. He smashes your lips together in a rough, passionate kiss. He does taste like cigarettes, as well as alcohol and something that is so distinctly Anakin.

“I’m so fucking horny for you,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss finally breaks. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting such blunt words. “I was thinking about you the whole goddamn time.”

“What were you thinking about?” you ask curiously, your face still inches away from his, looking at his stained mouth from your lipstick.

“Bringing you up on stage and taking you in front of everybody,” he confesses as his hands travel from your neck down to your torso.

“I think that’d make the fangirls jealous.”

“Good. Let them be jealous. Let them see how good I can give it.”

Anakin stands up straight and you bring your hands up to work at Anakin’s pants; unzipping the fly and pushing his jeans and boxer briefs down far enough for his cock to spring free. It almost his you in the face as the pink tip bobs tantalizingly in front of you. You look up at him, silently asking for permission to put your mouth around it.

“It’s not gonna suck itself,” he smirks as he guides your head towards his length with a hand in your hair.

Once you get your mouth on his dick, he loosens his hold on you and allows you to go at your own pace. His voice is already a little hoarse from performing tonight, and the added gravel to his moans make your head spin as you listen below him.

“Fuck, they’d be so jealous. I’d take you up there and let you suck my dick in the middle of a song, just like this.”

Anakin tilts his head back in a groan as you flick your tongue around the tip.

Your mouth waters aroud his length, and after a few bobs of your head, drool is leaking from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. Anakin loves when you get messy like this, especially when your dark lipstick leaves prints at the base of his cock.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” he groans.

Anakin threads his fingers through your hair and holds you tightly, not directing you, just making sure you feel it.

You take him all the way into your throat and look up at him with glassy eyes as you gag around him. Anakin loves the feeling of your throat contracting as you struggle not to gag; it feeds his ego knowing that his dick is too big even for someone so well trained.

Anakin feels like orgasm nearing, so he pulls you off by your hair so he does not finish too quickly.

You sit back on your knees and wipe your face with the back of your hand. You look sinful underneath him like this; lipstick smudged and eye makeup running from tears.

“Come up here, baby,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you to your feet. You put your arms around his neck and look up at him, feeling small in his arms. “I want you to give me some marks. I want something to show off tomorrow,” he grins.

You lean in to latch your lips onto his pec, sucking the smooth skin that covers the hard muscle into your mouth. You suck firmly, pinching thr skin between your teeth as you do. A satisfied hum rumbles through his chest when you pull away and he sees the dark red mark you left on his pale skin.

Before long, his chest, collarbone, neck, and abdomen are littered with similar sized hickeys. After each one you left, he reached down to press his fingers into the forming bruise, just to feel the dull pain.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Anakin says, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close so your hips are pressed flush to his.

“Then why don’t you fuck me?”

“Is that how you ask for it?” he asks with a smirk.

“No, but I have a feeling you’ll give it to me either way.”

Anakin chuckles as he slides his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt up as he does. You raise your arms above your head and he pulls it off, revealing your lace bra underneath.

Anakin’s eyes darken even more as he takes in the sight of the delicate black lace over your perfect tits. It’s beautiful, and Anakin was to destroy it. He grabs each cup firmly in his large hands and pulls, ripping the pretty bra down the center.

“What the fuck?” you gasp. “That was expensive!”

“You bought it with my money, didn’t you?”

You glare at him. “Yes, but-”

“Then I should be able to do whatever I want with it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you huff as your shrug off the scraps of your ruined bra.

His hands move to the front of your jeans, but you swat them away before he can ruin anymore of your clothes. While you take your pants off, he does the same.

Now, you’re both standing in the tour bus bedroom, completely bare to each other’s gazes.

“Turn around,” Anakin orders.

“Make me,” you challenge.

He gives you an unimpressed stare before he grabs your hips and spins you around. He pushes you so you lay face down on the bed, but you do not stay there. You prop yourself up on your elbows and just as you look back at him, his long fingers slide through your wet folds.

“Soaked for me, huh?” Anakin chuckles.

“Don’t tease me, Ani.”

Anakin eases two fingers into you, curling them along the way to find the spot inside you that makes you clench.

“Or what? We both know you can’t resist anything I do to you.”

You hate that he’s right, but whatever annoyance that was building inside of you quickly disappated as he began to move his fingers in and out of you.

Anakin didn’t spend long opening you up before he replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock.

He did tease you; he slapped your pussy with it before giving you just the slightest amout, enough to stretch but not enough to fill.

“It’s not enough,” you whine.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” he says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “You want more?”

“Yes, please.”

Anakin grips your hips firmly, then slides all the way in. That’s how Anakin goes about everything: all or nothing. You cry out as you adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn’t give you much time befote he starts to rut into you.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Your pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?” he asks.

“Yes, yes, it’s yours,” you whimper.

With each stroke, the sound of his hips hitting your ass fill the room is sharp claps. You can feel the tip of his cock in your stomach after every thrust in, and it punches the air out of your lungs. Anakin fucks you hard and fast, his fingers digging into your hips which will surely bruise.

After a while of this position, Anakin wraps his forearm around your middle and pulls you up so you’re standing, trapped between him and the bed.

His large hand presses on your lower abdomen so he can feel each thrust of his cock inside you, and because he knows the added pressure will make it so much better for you. Anakin hooks his chin over your shoulder and presses his mouth to your ear so he can whisper.

“I fuckin’ own this pussy, got that? I own you.”

Your stomach flips at his vulgar words and you lean your head back on his shoulder and moan.

Anakin can’t help himself when he sees your mouth open wide for him. He reaches up and hooks his finger in your cheek to hold it open, then spits. Some of it lands on your cheeks and lips, but most of it lands on your tongue.

“Swallow that,” he says, his breath hot on your ear.

You do as he said, swallowing his spit obediently. It’s hot and dirty and everything you love, all at once. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, and unless Anakin physically stops you, you’re going to cum soon.

“You’re so fuckin’ good for me. Bet you’d let me fuck you like this on stage, huh? Serve me while everyone is cheering for me like I’m God.”

Anakin’s voice is low and rough, obviously growing more desperate with each stroke. He pushes you forward and you brace yourself on the bed with your arms. He leans over your back and licks a hot strike over your sweaty neck before sinking his sharp teeth into the tender skin under your ear.

You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain from Anakin’s teeth in your skin. You’re sure it will leave a crescent bruise behind, but you can’t bring yourself to mind right now.

“Let me cum inside you,” he says in your ear.

Finding your words to be lost, you nod, giving him permission to claim you. He makes a noise akin to a growl as his thrusts start to pick up in speed. They become more erratic as he nears closer to his orgasm, and yours slowly builds along with his.

He grabs your hips and thrusts deep inside you, then holds you flush to him as he pumps his load into you. The feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides makes your eyes roll back, and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder. He grabs your throat and presses his lips to your temple.

“Cum around my cock. I want to feel you.”

His other hand reaches down between your legs and begins to toy with your clit. The feeling of his fingers rubbing you in just the right way, his still-hard cock inside you, along with his cum leaking down your pussy work together to throw you over the edge.

You whimper as you begin to cum. Your knees feel weak as your lower stomach blooms with warmth and pleasure.

Anakin revels in the feeling of your walls convulsing around his sensitive dick. If he hadn’t already cum, your pussy would be milking him like this. Once you’ve finished riding out your high, Anakin pulls out of you and lays you down on the bed before joining next to you.

He turns you around so you're facing away from him and he spoons you, pulling your back to his sweaty chest.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whispers.

“Felt so good,” you reply quietly.

Anakin’s cum is still leaking from between your legs, but neither of you care right now. You’re both exhausted, wrung out from sex and the busy day before this.

“Hey,” Anakin says, breaking the silence in the room.

“Hey.”

“Tomorrow night after the show, I’m gonna marry you.”

“What?” you gasp, turning around in his arms.

“I want to make it official. Make sure that everyone knows I’m off the market. That you’re the only one who actually gets any real part of me.”

Anakin may have a reputation of being a diva, an egotistical superstar, which isn’t necessarily untrue, but like this, in private with you, he’s tender, loving, and real.

“So what do you say?” he asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

You smile wide and bring him in to kiss. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” you say against his lips.

He kisses you again, deeply, as he confesses all of his love for you with a physical act.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if you’ll get hate from Anakin’s fans for stealing their celebrity crush from them, but you shrug that thought off. On stage, he may belong to everyone, but here, he’s only yours.

#anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin smut #star wars smut

[mrsriddlenott]

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

[mrsriddlenott]

rafe wld so get off on u being scared. like you’d be watching a scary movie together and he’d have his hand down ur pants to calm u down when u get scared and jumpy

-🎀

MINORS DNI 18+

u don’t know what this did to me .. maybe it’s a lil different than your original idea but it’s where the voices took me

It’s not that you don’t like horror movies, it’s just that you have a hard time handling them. When your boyfriend expressed passing interest in a certain film, you didn’t want to tell him no, there’s hardly anything that earns his attention. But the entire time, you haven’t been able to sit still. Susceptible to every jump scare and every surge of music, you act like a child. Even his gentle chastising doesn’t get it through your head. After a sudden movement on screen and a blast of noise from the speakers, you squeak, clutching onto RAFE CAMERON’s shirt as you curl into him.

“Thought you said you could handle this.” he mutters, unresponsive to how you cling onto him. The arm draped behind you on the back of the couch remains there as you silently wish he’d wrap you in it.

“I can, I can.” you insist. “How are you not scared?” Your face buried in his chest means you can’t see how he eyes you up. Darkened pupils and rolling his tongue between his lips as he watches you peek at the screen every so often.

“C’mon. Could see the boom mic like five minutes ago.” he replies, but that’s not the real reason. It’s because he’s been too busy with his attention on you. Every time you’d jump, and scream, and claw at him… sure, it was annoying, but it was also getting him hot. It’s not something he fully understands, but his hips shift forward anyway when he adjusts in his seat. His free hand subtly rearranges himself, letting his halfie get some breathing room. Your temple lays on his upper chest, and your fingers fidget with your lower lip uneasily, finally working up the courage to peer at the television again. While you’re captivated, his arm discretely winds around you, and you’re so locked in you don’t even notice.

“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, and you listen to him, shuffling impossibly closer into his side you’re practically on his lap. “Yeah, that’s right.” A mess of tingles travels up your spine, but you’re sure it’s the fact your hair is already standing on end when in reality it’s his low voice whispering praises in your ear. “Wanna be my brave girl?”

A hand wedges in between your bodies, in between your legs, and your temperature rises with every inch he gains. From your thigh to the inside, down and over, long fingers stroke at your sex through your pants. Your attention torn between the movie and where his hand is, you’re not sure entirely what’s occurring. At least not until his fingertips dip into your waistband and you unconsciously adjust to make room for him. To reward you, his arm curls up from your back, cradling your head as the hand pets your hair. You relax as he rubs you in two different places.

The pads of his fingers apply pressure to the skin above your clit, screwing sweet little circles. You whimper through your nose and you shift.

“Keep your eyes on the TV.” he tells you. Those fingers slide down, pinching your clit between them, collecting a little moisture from your slit to bring it up, and smear it on your bud. “Yeah, baby, doin’ good. Jus’ like that.” he breathes, commending you for sitting pretty for him and taking it. You can barely keep your eyes open, fighting them not to squeeze shut. Curiously, his middle finger traces your hole, and sinks in to the first knuckle. Sharply, you inhale through your nose, and he holds on to you a little tighter. “Not even here, princess, don’t worry about me.” he whispers against your forehead, drawing his finger out only to dip back in, introducing you to more this time.

You’ve been watching, like he told you to, and a jump-scare does its job, jolting your whole body with fear as you scream. The movement causes his whole middle finger to plunge into you, and a groan he’d been holding releases from his throat. It’s visceral, and something snaps. He gives you two whole fingers, then three. Shoving them into your cunt over and over again with vehement as you writhe. His hold on you keeps you where he wants you while he relentlessly finger-fucks you. Out of instinct, you try to hide your face, but that hand that had pet your hair grabs onto your scalp, fixing you to face the television again. He grips onto your head, raising your brows as if to force your eyes open himself, “Keep your fucking eyes on the movie.”

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #smut #obx smut #obx

[mrsriddlenott]

I wanted to write a post to say Happy New Years to my followers!! I hope everyone has an amazing 2024 and I hope it’s better than 2023 for anyone else who had a difficult year as well. Even though I have needed a break to deal with my personal and school life I still love this account and plan on coming back to it as soon as I am able to truly focus on it as it deserves.

I love writing and I don’t want to half ass anything I put out and I feel as though I already have been so, I’m giving myself time to make sure I can still enjoy my writing as much as I hope you guys do!!!! I will be back posting frequently pretty soon but until then I’m gonna be reposting and boosting other authors that I love to read on here incase you guys would love them to!!❤️💕