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holllandtrash · 1 year

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red flags | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

this is based off a request an anon left for @leclvrc but they opened it up for someone else to write it: 'toxic ex Charles where the reader and Carlos are together and Charles just couldn't stand that his teammates is with his ex'

word count: 13.2k (im so sorry) tags/warnings: 18+ toxic, smut, a lot of swears, really toxic, not healthy, i don’t condone any of this, this has so many red flags, more than the 2022 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix qualifying session (which was a lot) cheating, which i also don’t condone AT ALL holy moly don’t cheat on your partners, not even for charles leclerc, a little degrading, some choking did i mention this is just angst and hate and smut, thigh riding, overstimulation, p in v, all of it, this is bad this is all bad, if you ever come across a guy like this fucking run and alternatively if you relate to y/n pls seek a therapist.

Honestly, it was fucking stupid. All of it.

The way Charles looked at you when you walked into the motorhome as if you were a driver for a rival team was stupid. The way he literally rolled his eyes or made a face of disgust whenever you kissed Carlos was stupid. The way he completely disregarded your presence as you stood at the barrier to congratulate Carlos and him at the end of a Ferrari 1-2, was fucking stupid. And it was on international television so everyone and their mother was able to see the way Charles purposely ignored you after hugging the people on either side of you.

You decided to call him out on it the second you and Carlos returned to the hotel.

“What room is he in?” You demanded, storming down the hall when the elevator doors opened.

“Mi cielo, I don’t have a key to his room.”

The endearing term almost made you forget about ripping into Charles. Carlos had such a good weekend, he just wanted to relax and celebrate with you. Instead, he was following you down the hallway as you pointed at all of the numbered suites, waiting to see if Carlos would react to any of them.

And he did. He swallowed when you passed room 1250. You came to a sudden halt and looked back and forth between him and the door.

“This is his room?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my love,” you clicked your tongue against your teeth, stepping forward to cup his cheek with your hand. You felt his stubble under the pads of your fingers as you plastered on your sweetest smile. “You have a distinct tell when you lie.”

Your smile dropped as Carlos tried to argue with you, assuring you that he wasn’t lying. But he did the same thing every time a little white lie passed through his lips. He always glanced up and to the left. Very quickly, you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but it was a nervous tell of his you came to learn early on into your relationship.

Turning on your heels, you raised your fist to the door and started to hit it obnoxiously loud. Carlos attempted to grab your arm to get you to stop, muttering something about how there were other people in this hotel, but you just swatted him away and kept pounding on the wooden surface.

Charles knew you were out in the hall. There was no one else who would be causing this much of a disturbance just to talk to him. You had done it before, before you two even broke up. There were countless times when the two of you had gotten into fights during a race weekend and he’d ask for the hotel keys to be switched, purposely locking you out for a few hours, occasionally even for a full night if the argument was bad enough.

Honestly, you should have walked away from Charles a lot sooner.

But when things were good they were really fucking good. And the make up sex after you two were finished yelling at each other was almost as good as the hate sex.

And that’s all it was that was keeping you together. The physical attraction, the intimate pull you two shared. It wasn’t love, it wasn't romance and it certainly wasn’t the idea that you two would start a family and settle down one day. It was purely sex and it was unhealthy.

Whereas Carlos was everything Charles could never be.

Obviously jumping from one Ferrari driver to another caused a bit of an uproar, but it made for an entertaining episode on the last season of Drive to Survive. The producers had a habit of creating their own drama, but they didn’t need to embellish anything between Carlos and Charles. There was tension on the track, the determination to be the better driver, the constant fight and you were in the middle of it.

It wasn’t your fault that Carlos just so happened to be standing in the motorhome when you and Charles got into one of the worst screaming matches of your lives. You both thought the place was empty, it was nearly midnight and no one had any reason to still be at the paddock.

But Carlos heard it all. He heard all of the things Charles called you. He heard every swear in every possible language you knew come out of your mouth. He heard the door slam. He heard the way you screamed ‘We’re done’ with such strength and fury that he himself was paralysed with fear as you stormed down the stairs.

And then he saw your tear stained cheeks. He saw your trembling hands and heard your ragged breaths as you landed on the bottom step. You met Carlos’ eyes and not only were you embarrassed that he was a witness to that whole mess, his pitiful stare was what pushed you to the edge.

Your knees gave out as you all but collapsed to the floor. Carlos crossed the motorhome and bent down to your level, hurrying to take off his jumper so you could use it to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop.

What were you even crying for? Your relationship had been over for months by that point. Charles treated you like shit. You treated him like shit. It was a toxic cycle that was finally coming to an end.

But for two years, he was all you knew. He was everything to you. The good, the bad, the disastrous, it was your life.

You didn’t intend on anyone picking up the pieces. This was your mess, you had to move on by yourself.

So when Carlos offered to take you out, get you away from the motorhome, away from Charles, even just go for a drive, you almost said no. He had seen the downfall of yours and Charles’ relationship coming for a while now and you didn’t want to burden him anymore. You should have just stood up and left.

But you didn’t.

You hung out with Carlos that night. Nothing happened, of course. Maybe because part of you was holding onto that sliver of hope that Charles would call and ask where you were, only that call never came. He was done too.

There were no ulterior motives when you decided to keep hanging out with Carlos. It wasn’t to get under Charles’ nerves, it wasn’t so you could still be around the paddock. In all honesty, you avoided the races for a while, not wanting to run into Charles. Your friendship with Carlos grew, but you kept it private. It wasn’t until the second last race of the season, nearly four months after you and Charles called things off, did you decide to show up in support of Carlos.

God did you regret that. If you had known the Drive to Survive production team was still hanging around, you probably would have stayed home. Instead, you gave them the last little bit of drama they needed before calling it a wrap.

Charles spotted you first, which wasn’t ideal. You hadn’t shown up with Carlos, but he was expecting you. Charles, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks and took his sunglasses off, narrowing his eyes at you as you walked in his direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles asked, clear annoyance on his face. To him, you were a headache with legs. He thought he’d never have to see you again.

You weren’t going to let his attitude get to you. If anyone was going to be the bigger person you made sure it was you. You smiled sweetly at him, not even bothering to stop to give him the time of day as you just pointed at the Ferrari motorhome.

“You can’t go in there,” Charles scoffed, pivoting on his heels to follow you. He reached for your arm and you were quick to pull it from his grasp.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snarled.

“Then don’t show up at the fucking race,” Charles shot back. “Why are you here, Y/N? You have no reason to be here.”

“I’m just here to support my favourite Ferrari driver.”

The confusion on his face was priceless. 100% he was wondering if you were there in hopes of winning him back.

But Carlos’ timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He was walking from the other end of the paddock and picked up his pace the second he saw you and Charles already bickering. He didn’t want you two to cause a scene, but he might have already been too late.

When you spotted Carlos, you genuinely forgot about the Monegasque driver standing right next to you. Your hard features softened. Your scowl shifted into a smile. Your shoulders relaxed.

Before Carlos could even greet you, Charles let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking my teammate.”

“Not yet,” you shrugged. “I’ll see how well he does today first.”

It was a joke that Charles took literally. Once Carlos finally reached you, he placed a hand on your back and asked how your drive in was, giving Charles the cold shoulder.

Charles couldn’t believe what was right in front of him. His ex and his teammate. Friends? Possibly more than friends? He scoffed, pulling you both from your private conversation, “This is a fucking joke.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” You challenged him. Carlos picked up on your venomous tone and pulled you closer into his side, ready to intervene if he needed to.

Charles just looked at Carlos and slid his sunglasses back on, “Have fun with her, mate. She’s a wild card.”

“Can we just all be civil?” Carlos asked, looking between you and Charles. Neither of you said anything. That wasn’t something either of you could promise. Carlos eventually sighed, staring right at Charles, “She won’t bother you.”

“You don’t speak for me,” you snapped your head towards him.

Carlos wasn’t about to put up with your attitude right now. You were annoyed, your morning hadn’t started off the way you wanted and you were dangerously close to taking it out on the wrong person. Carlos recognised this and spoke directly to you, “You won’t bother him, right?”

You didn’t want to ruin Carlos’ day. So you nodded, agreeing to stay out of Charles’ way granted he offered you the same courtesy.

Charles stalked off immediately following that conversation. And he was true to his word, he stayed out of your way.

The only problem was, the fucking Netflix crew managed to capture most of that interaction. Even if they didn’t get audio, they didn’t need it. They could fill in the blanks and turn this situation into a goddamn soap opera.

It didn’t help that when Carlos landed a podium, you were right there against the barriers. Neither of you had crossed that line yet and had remained friends for the last few months, but the adrenaline was high. Carlos had one of the best races of his life and you were genuinely so excited to have witnessed it, to have been there to cheer him on, to be one of the first people he saw when he parked the car at the end of the race.

You made the first move, and even then, it wasn’t really a move. You kissed his helmet, barely able to contain the grin on your face as the crowd behind you exploded for him.

You didn’t expect him to pull his helmet off, that’s for damn sure. But he did. He handed it towards a team member for temporary safe keeping and grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours. There were about twenty other people he could have celebrated with first, you were only a friend up until now, but he wanted to kiss you in front of thousands of people.

Charles never did that.

He’d hug you, maybe, if you weren’t in a bad mood and were actually watching from the garage. He wouldn’t jump into your arms like he did the rest of the team. He wouldn’t make it public that he was elated to see you in the crowd. He’d squeeze your arm or your waist, that was it.

Carlos didn’t think twice about the repercussions. He didn’t think about twitter and instagram blowing up as CARLOS CELEBRATES WITH CHARLES LECLERC’S EX-GF topped all of the trends. He didn’t think about how bad this would look for you or the team, or for the dynamic between him and Charles moving forward.

The upside was there was only one race left. One race, which of course you attended. And then you two were in the clear.

During the winter break, you were in your own little world. Carlos treated you how you knew you deserved to be treated. He didn’t raise his voice at you, or if he did it was only in a playful way or when you had stolen the remote and changed the film when he stood up to use the bathroom during a movie night.

Slowly but surely, you were falling in love with the Spanish driver.

It was a whirlwind romance that came out of nowhere and knocked you off your feet. The two of you were on cloud nine from December to March. Four months where the world beyond his house didn’t matter. The drama didn’t matter. The impending tension as you moved closer and closer to the start of the new season, didn’t matter.

You didn’t even care that Netflix painted you out to be a villain. At this point, the majority of Charles' fans couldn’t stand you and about half of Carlos’ fans didn’t trust you. Paddock Bunny, you were called. Hopping from driver to driver.

But people didn’t know about the toxic relationship you shared with Charles. No one outside of the Paddock knew you two were at your absolute worst when you were together. If they did, they’d probably be over the fucking moon to hear how Carlos was treating you in comparison. They’d probably stop rooting for the Monegasque driver.

What a sight that would be. People burning their 16 caps and CL merch because they found out how awful of a partner he was. It would never happen, but you could dream.

You were tempted to make that dream a reality when you showed up at testing in Bahrain with Carlos. You had so much dirt on Charles, so many stories that would ruin him and the Leclerc name that when he took one look at you in the paddock that first weekend in March, you nearly sent in an anonymous email to Sky Sports.

Carlos talked you out of it, telling you that you couldn’t drag his teammate through the mud.

But Charles was such a fucking asshole. He stayed out of your way, sure, but if your paths did cross he made you feel so inferior, like you weren’t allowed to be in the Paddock. He’d make snarky little comments to other drivers or to members of his team, calling you names you didn’t want to repeat, all because you were with Carlos now. He treated you like you were scum of the earth.

So…it was similar to when you were dating. The only difference now was you couldn’t scream at him or cause a fight when you felt the tension building. You couldn’t even attempt to work through it, even temporarily. Both of you just carried all of this weight and frustration on your shoulders, both angry at the other for the stupidest fucking reasons.

Flash forward to today's race when it finally came to a boiling point.

Charles won. Carlos finished second. It was a Ferrari 1-2 at the second race of the season. This would do wonders for the constructors and for both of them. You hated Charles but you would always be a Ferrari fan. You supported Carlos so in some way, you were sort of forced to support Charles. At an arm's length and through tooth and nail, but you did want to see both drivers succeed.

When both drivers made their way out of the cars, Carlos found you first. He kissed you, of course he did. He was glistening with sweat, his name was being called from all angles but he found you and he kissed you like there wasn’t a single person watching.

He made his way down the line, celebrating with his team and Charles did the same. They exchanged a hug as they met in the middle of the line and it was only a few seconds later when Charles was right in front of you.

He didn’t even look your way. He hugged the person to your left and then grabbed the arms of the person to your right, bypassing you completely.

You weren’t expecting a celebratory hug, you certainly didn’t want one. But the cameras had caught the lack of interaction and now once again your name was trending. CHARLES GIVES EX THE COLD SHOULDER AFTER FERRARI 1-2.

You looked like a fucking idiot. It didn’t help that someone with a camera captured a clip of you staring at Charles like he had just spit on you or insulted your entire family. The disgust and betrayal on your face was evident.

Carlos tried to tell you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he just didn’t see you. You were right in the front and you were the same fucking height, of course he saw you.

So you were pissed the entire drive to the hotel. Carlos asked you not to say anything. He practically begged for the two of you to just go back to your room, but the moment you stepped out of the elevator, your mind was made up.

Now here you were, banging on his hotel room door. The underside of your first was starting to turn numb and no matter what, Carlos couldn’t get you to stop. Each time he tried to grab your hand or pull you away, you elbowed him in the side or yanked your arm out of his grasp.

“Open the fucking door!” You yelled, landing one more exceptionally hard hit on it. Carlos winced at the contact. Your hand was going to hurt in the morning, but the fact that you paid the pain no attention right now said a lot. How often did you find yourself in this situation?

But it worked. Charles probably had enough of the disturbance and he swung the door open. You had half a mind to land a hit directly to his nose, but that wouldn’t look good for his image.

He didn’t even look at Carlos. His gaze hardened as he met your stare, “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything!” You jabbed a finger against his chest, pushing him further into his own hotel suite. Carlos tried to grab your arm and pull you back but it just resulted in him being dragged into the room after you. There was no stopping you when you were this outraged. You scanned over Charles, hating his I’m-too-good-for-this-shit, expression he wore. “What I need is for you to get your fucking head out of your ass.”

“What are you talking about?”

The nerve of this man.

“Have you not looked at your phone recently?” You tried not to scream at him, but it was hard to keep your voice at a respectful volume when the person who caused you so much grief and anger was standing a foot away from you. “Everyone saw the way you completely ignored me at the end of your race. I’m a fucking laughing stock on social media right now.”

Charles nodded, his jaw clenched, “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you brought this on yourself by sleeping with your ex’s teammate?”

You turned over your head at Carlos who was now leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he watched you two hash it out. This was probably a long time coming. This was also the longest you had gone without fighting, you had a lot of pent up aggression and you were certain he did too.

Carlos knew that there was a time and a place to step in, so he just watched carefully, listening for when one of you crossed a line. He couldn’t place a bet for who would be the first to do so, but he knew it was coming.

You stepped forward, expecting Charles to step backwards to keep the gap, but he was never one to back down from you. That was your problem, one of them at least. You were both too stubborn.

“I don’t know why you think this is just a fucking hook up, Charles, but let me remind you that it’s not. I love him-”

“I love you too,” Carlos added from behind you and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t humanely possible to grow tired of hearing those words.

But again, time and place.

Charles snickered when you held up a hand towards your boyfriend, a nonverbal reminder that now was probably not the time to interject, even if he did so with the sweetest intentions.

You focused back on Charles. “I love him, so I’ll be sticking around for a while whether you like it or not.” And just to get under his skin, you added, “I know love is a word you’re probably not familiar with-”

Charles dragged his hands over his face. It was his turn to raise his voice as he cut you off mid-sentence before you could finish whatever painful truth he didn’t want to hear, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I want you to apologise for completely disregarding me earlier.

“What are you on about, Y/N?”

You hated the way he said your name. Like each individual letter was laced with its own personal brand of venom.

“Are you kidding me?” He had to be playing dumb to piss you off even more. “I was at the barrier and you hugged every other person around me and didn’t even have the audacity to look at me. I don’t need a hug, Charles, but maybe get off your fucking high horse and show some fucking appreciation when I show up in support of Ferrari! Put on a fucking act when the cameras are around, at least.”

Charles raked his eyes over your body. Your chest was rising with each angered breath. He knew your heart was racing. He knew what you were like when you were riled up like this.

He also knew that if you weren’t with Carlos, this fight would end very differently.

He knew you would turn around and leave with Carlos when you finally got the last word in but if Carlos wasn’t glued to your side right now, you wouldn’t be leaving until Charles fucked you so hard, you forgot why you were even mad in the first place.

He’d pin you against the wall to get you to stop talking and kiss every inch of the skin visible on your neck before his hand found a home on your throat. His other hand would work to keep your wrist glued to the wall to keep you from grabbing him.

He’d tease you until you were begging for him to actually do something and even then, Charles would take his time with you. Sex with him was never easy. It wasn’t gentle or loving, it was rough and fueled by a variety of emotions, anger being the most prominent.

But that wasn’t how this fight was going to end. Charles could rile you up all he wanted but at the end of the night, you’d go back to your room with Carlos. You could take the rest of your anger out on him in bed and he’d probably run you a fucking bubble bath afterwards and kiss your shoulders. He probably had a whole assortment of ways to make you forget why you were upset, wholesome ways. Ways that didn’t make you want to claw his eyes out.

Charles hated the thought.

He hated knowing that you could stand here and yell at him and get most of your frustration out and at the end of it, you had someone else to turn to. Someone to turn things around for the better. Whereas he had no one. He had to stand here and listen to you scream at him and when you left, he’d be alone.

There would be no hate sex. No make up sex. No waking up the next morning with you in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to bury his face into the back of your neck, making you laugh softly when he muttered something about your hair being too long. He could no longer reach for your arm to pull you back on top of the covers when you tried to stand up to go take a shower.

You two had some horrible days and a lot of insufferable nights.

But the mornings were good.

Before anything else mattered, before either of you could remember why you were fighting twelve hours earlier, before a comment was said that negatively affected your mood for the next few hours.

The mornings were fucking good and god did he miss that.

He wondered if you did too.

But you probably had the best mornings with Carlos. He probably made you breakfast in bed, something that Charles was always too tired to do. Carlos probably pulled you into the bathroom to shower with him whereas Charles always complained about the type of shampoo you used and how you hogged most of the water. Carlos probably invited you out to his events, his meetings, to run errands and Charles wouldn’t even consider letting you tag along, knowing that a fight would break out one way or another.

You brought out the worst in each other.

He should have walked away from you a long time ago.

He had enough experience with red flags to know that you were the worst of them.

Neither of you could explain why you put up with each other for so long. It wasn’t love, it was never love. What you had with Carlos was love.

Charles could admit he was envious.

Why couldn’t you ever look at him the way you looked at his teammate? Why was it so easy for Carlos to make you laugh? Why did he walk in on conversations where Carlos was talking about you like you put the fucking sun in the sky?

What did Carlos have that he didn’t? Besides patience. And a sense of humour. And the ability to admit when he was in the wrong.

The more Charles thought about it, the more it sunk in that he wasn’t good for you.

He remembered when you first started dating and he wanted to be good for you. He wanted to be what you needed. He wanted to fall in love with you and he wanted you to fall in love with him in return.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when something in your relationship shifted for the worse, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

This whole thing was fucking stupid. You kissing Carlos after he got second place was stupid, especially when he thought about how you never kissed him when he got a podium. You banging on his door hours after the race to yell at him was stupid. And now, you standing right in front of him while your boyfriend, his teammate, listened with caution in case he had to step in was fucking stupid. You could handle yourself, Charles knew that much.

You were still yelling at him about how he had completely disregarded you after the race. Charles zoned out for a second, something he often did when you raised your voice. All of these fights sounded the same, it didn’t matter what the current problem was. The biggest problem was always your relationship in general. The two of you should not have been allowed within ten feet of each other.

He promptly cut you off, “Y/N you are the absolute last person I want to see when I finish a race.”

“Well suck it up because I’m going to be around for a while,” your jaw tightened as you spoke. The lines in your forehead were making a reappearance. You were always scowling at him, Charles couldn’t remember the last time you looked relaxed.

“That doesn’t mean I need to put up with it.”

“Yes it fucking does,” you retorted. “I’m here for Carlos and here for Ferrari. You just so happen to be part of this fucking team so unfortunately for both of us, we can’t just avoid each other all season, Charles.”

“Well we can fucking try and you can start-” he gestured towards the door, “-by getting the hell out of my hotel room.”

You tugged at the roots of your hair, inhaling a deep breath, “Oh my fucking god-”

“Can you please control her?” Charles turned his line of sight towards Carlos. Carlos looked like he didn’t want to be dragged into the middle of this, but now he had no choice.

“Control me?” You yelled. “Oh you pretentious, arrogant fucking bastard-”

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos stepped forward, cutting you off before you could start swearing in French. He reached for your hand and you were harsh in pulling it away from him. The last thing you wanted right now was to be touched, though.

“No, mate you’re doing it wrong,” Charles interjected. A wicked smirk on his lips as he stared at you but spoke directly to Carlos. “You can’t grab her like that, she doesn’t like it. She’ll only listen if you go for the throat, choke the words out of her-”

Now Carlos was getting involved. You made a swing towards Charles, aiming for his face but Carlos grabbed you and pulled you back, his arms tightening around your waist and using his strength to his advantage, something he didn’t like doing with you. He practically pushed you towards the door before squaring up with Charles himself, nearly chest to chest.

Carlos was fuming over what Charles had said. He knew your relationship was toxic, but he couldn’t believe that after months, almost a year, of it being over, Charles could still say something so degrading, so disrespectful.

And Charles was smirking. He thought this was entertaining. He knew Carlos wouldn’t hit him. He knew Carlos wouldn’t let you hit him. He also knew that you weren’t going to be able to get the last word in, something you thrived on.

“I’m not wrong,” Charles said quietly, eyes darting towards you for a brief second as you stood with your arms crossed by the door. Charles gestured towards his own neck, “Give it a try sometime. She likes it.”

“How about you just stop talking about her, yeah?” Carlos suggested, with an underlying bitter tone that wasn’t usually present when he opened his mouth. “Don’t talk about her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look at her.”

He made the mistake of looking at you right when he said that and Carlos raised his hand to push on Charles’ chest, forcing his attention away from you.

He didn’t want to fight with teammate, but he was going to stand up for you no matter what. Time and place, he decided, and right now, Charles had to be put in his fucking place.

“She’s not worth it, mate,” Charles chuckled.

“It’s the other way around, mate.” Carlos mimicked. “You’re not worth it. At least Y/N was able to figure that out.”

They both flinched when the door slammed. Carlos turned over his shoulder to see that you were no longer standing there. You stormed out of the room. Charles tried to tell him to just leave you be, you did this all the time, but Carlos wasn’t Charles.

He followed you out and found you furiously pressing the elevator button, tapping your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor. Carlos knew better than to reach for your arm at this point, so he settled for putting his hand on your waist and stepping forward until his chest was against you. You felt the tension in your shoulders dissipate when he slowly snaked his arm around your stomach, pulling you against him.

You dropped your head to his shoulder, eyes closed and you whispered, “I hate him.”

“I know,” Carlos pressed a kiss to your temple.

What a fucking difference. Usually you were screaming ‘I hate you’ and you’d hear those three words repeated back. Sometimes in French. Sometimes in Italian. Once, Charles took you by surprise and screamed it in Spanish. Whatever the context, whatever the language, whatever the fight, you’d always hear it back.

You raised your hand to press your palm against his cheek. Carlos hugged you tighter against him and you stayed like that until the elevator doors finally opened on the twelfth level.

You pressed the button to take you to the lobby and Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing the room you shared was on the tenth floor.

“I need air,” you answered his wordless question. “Just for a minute. I need to take a walk.”

“I don’t want you walking around by yourself this late,” Carlos was worried for your safety and that was such a foreign concept to you. When you told Charles you need to go for a walk he would say ‘I don’t care’ or ‘don’t come back’. He wasn’t concerned about what could happen to you when you stepped outside.

You extended your hand out to grab his, giving him an assuring squeeze, “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Carlos walked you to the doors of the lobby, not letting your hand go until he had to. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and slid the extra room key into your jacket pocket. He then took hold of your face, tilting it upwards so he could look you directly in the eyes.

“I love you, mi cielo,” he kissed your lips feverishly. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

Mi cielo. My sky. My heaven. Carlos started calling you that soon after you started dating. When you asked what it meant, he said that he was calling you his own personal slice of heaven right here on earth.

That’s when you knew you loved him.

You assured him once more you’d be fine before stepping outside, letting the midnight air hit your cheeks. Your jacket was thin, but you didn’t plan on staying out for very long. With your hands shoved in your pockets, you made your way down the sidewalk, replaying the last few minutes in your head.

You really did hate Charles.

Everything about him infuriated you beyond reason.

You couldn’t stand his arrogant attitude. How he couldn’t own up to his own mistakes, in his personal life, in your relationship, on the track. Charles just couldn't be wrong. All of his problems were always someone else's fault.

You remembered the first horrible fight you got into. You had bickered here and there, all couples did, but when he returned home after a race weekend and you showed him the text you got from Pierre, one that read ‘did you and Charles break up?’ you lost it on him.

He cheated on you. Why the fuck else would Pierre be asking you that? There were no photos, no proof, and Pierre refused to go into detail, but you knew. You could practically smell the infidelity on him as he walked through the door.

When gaslighting you into thinking you were crazy didn’t work, Charles tried to blame you for his actions. He tried to say that you didn’t pay him enough attention, that you should be joining him during race weekends so he didn’t feel tempted to seek affection somewhere else. It was your fault he cheated.

And you loved him, well you thought you did, so you started accompanying him more often.

God did that just make things worse.

Everything was a constant downhill in your relationship. There was no silver lining. There were good moments, but they were always overshadowed by the impending dark clouds. It was never easy for you two.

And you weren’t perfect either, you could admit you had flaws and contributed to your relationship falling apart. You didn’t trust Charles, as much as you wanted to, you never did. There was no solid foundation for you two to ever stand on so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the cracks started forming.

You became annoyed with every little thing he did, or said, or even the way he looked at you. Qualities of his you used to admire soon because the reasons why you struggled to be in the same room as him.

The two of you were constantly at each other's throats. It was unhealthy and everyone around you saw it.

His team was probably ecstatic when they heard you broke up. They didn’t have to worry about a blow up in the garage or Charles being in a bad mood during meetings.

No one could have expected you’d show up again with Carlos.

The team walked on eggshells, watching to see if you and Charles would return to your ways, bickering, arguing, yelling.

But that didn’t happen during testing. Nor did it happen during the first race weekend, or the second. There were only petty comments made behind the others back, but nothing that caused the two of you to get into each other's faces again.

You thought maybe you could work with this. Just having to see Charles. As long as you didn’t talk directly to him, everything would be fine. That’s what the whole team was hoping for, at least.

And then this bullshit after the race happened and you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore. You needed Charles to understand where you were coming from, why he couldn’t just brush you off in front of the public eye like that.

There was so much more you wanted to say to him too, you wondered why you even stormed out.

Going for a walk and getting air wasn’t helping. If anything, the anger stirred inside of you and the more time you spent not letting it out, the more worked up you became.

Maybe that’s why you found yourself hitting button 12 instead of 10 when you returned to the hotel. You needed to get one or two more things off your chest and then you’d be fine, then you could go back to Carlos.

You knocked on the door, politely this time. Not like it mattered because he probably looked through the peephole to see who was standing in the hall.

The door swung open. Charles rolled his eyes after checking to see if Carlos had followed you up. When he realised that you were alone, he pushed the door open some more, just enough for you to step in.

“I take it you’re not done?” Charles’ assumption was correct, but it was a little surprising that he invited you in without you needing to cause a scene. Maybe he had more he wanted to say to you as well.

He grabbed the remote off the edge of the counter and paused the movie that was playing. You recognised it instantly. He was watching The Princess Bride. One of your favourite movies.

There’s no fucking way he was just scrolling through the tv guide and came across it. He had to purposely search and pay for it.

You raised your eyebrows and pointed at the television, completely ignoring his question, “Princess Bride?”

He shrugged, “It was just on.”

Bull-fucking-shit.

“I thought you hated this movie,” you recalled the number of times you tried to get him to watch it with you and he never would.

Charles shrugged again, “Well you seem to like it.”

“So you’re just now giving it a chance eight months after we’ve broken up?”

“Would you rather I not watch it?”

“I would have rathered you watched it with me when I fucking asked you too!” It only took ten seconds for you to raise your voice at him. “Jesus, Charles, when I told you it was my favourite movie you went out of your fucking way to never let me watch it.”

“You’re being dramatic. I never did that.”

“Don’t gaslight me.”

“Stop using that fucking word,” He had heard it so many times during your fights.

“Stop giving me a reason to.”

And just like that, you had fallen back into your previous cycle. Pointless, stupid, meaningless fights. Over a movie for fucks sakes. But you were both so easy to piss off. No one worked you two up quite like the other.

“Why are you here?” Charles asked, shifting the conversation back to you. “Shouldn’t you be with Carlos?”

You caught the lingering jealousy in his tone. The way he waved his hand to the side, acting as though you dating his teammate didn’t bother him, when in reality it did.

But Charles also caught the way your breath caught in your throat. He noticed how you shifted your balance from one leg to the other, something you only did when you were nervous. You may not have been a good pair, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know you.

“Carlos has no idea that you’re here right now, does he?” Charles didn’t even have to ask. He knew the answer.

Maybe that’s why he stepped forward slowly, eyes raking over your body like they had done so many times before. Maybe because he knew Carlos didn’t know your whereabouts, Charles felt confident enough to step around you and tug at the sleeves of your jacket until it was no longer on your body. You didn’t know why you let him. You came here to yell at him some more and in a split second, in the blink of a fucking eye, the atmosphere shifted.

Charles reached for your wrist and you reacted like you did every other time someone touched you, by flinching away and putting some space between your bodies.

But that wasn’t going to work with Charles.

He paid no attention to your reserved tendencies and just grabbed your other arm instead, gripping your wrist and turning you to face him before you could react fast enough. You attempted to pull away, you even pushed on his chest, but Charles was unphased. He just waited a few seconds, letting you think you’d win this and then he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around so your back was pressed against his chest, your arms crossed over your body like an X.

Charles dipped chin so his mouth was right by your ear. His breath was hot against your skin. There was no doubt in your mind that he could feel your heart racing through the clothes on your back.

“Mon amour,” Charles spoke so softly, but you didn’t let his gentle tone fool you. Neither did you let his name for you affect you the way it used to. “Let’s stop fighting, oui?”

“Don’t call me that,” you pulled against his hold but his grip was too tight.

Charles chuckled and you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach, “What would you rather I call you? Mi cielo?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, I can’t believe he calls you that,” his lips travelled dangerously close along your skin. You could feel goosebumps rise over every inch of your skin. “You were always picky about pet names, but Carlos doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Don’t-”

You lost the last of your argument when Charles suddenly let you go, only to pin you against the nearby wall instead. His hand went to your throat, keeping you in place without applying any pressure. Before you could push him off of you, he grabbed both of your wrists and placed them above your head.

This was a position the two of you had found yourselves in more often than not.

But you were broken up now. You were with Carlos. You loved Carlos. Charles had absolutely no fucking right to be trying to pull a move like this.

And you had no right to be enjoying it.

“Answer me,” Charles’ eyes darkened. “Does Carlos know what you like? Does he know how to turn you on, mon amour?” He leaned in, his lips hovering right over yours, “Does he know you still think about me?”

“Let go of me,” your voice was barely audible, like you had to convince yourself to say the words and even then, you weren’t even sure if what you were demanding was what you really wanted.

Charles noticed how you avoided each of his questions, which in itself was a good enough answer to all of them.

When he released the hold on your neck, you expected his other hand to follow. You weren’t surprised, however, when his grip on your wrists only tightened. His fingers trailed down your side, stopping to push up the hem of your shirt. You shivered under his touch and it gave Charles a bit of an ego boost, the confidence he needed to go further.

You wanted him. Even if you said you didn’t, the way you reacted to the faintest touch told him otherwise.

He needed to hear it though. He’d tease you until the sun came up, he’d done it before. What Charles wanted was to hear you beg. He wanted you to tell him how desperate you were for him, how these last eight months without him had been unbearable.

He had no idea what your sex life with Carlos was like. He didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Charles knew he would always be the best fuck of your life. No one would ever take that title from him.

He undid the button of your jeans, all while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d put up more of a fight or not.

You were the one that showed up here, alone, after an argument.

You may have been broken up, but if there was one thing Charles knew, it was recognising a fucking pattern.

He then dragged your zipper down next. He traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at them to see what colour they were.

Of course they were red.

“For Carlos,” you told him, reminding him that you had a boyfriend. You wore a matching lingerie set for your boyfriend. “He likes me in red.”

“Of course he does,” Charles tossed that thought aside, “It’s a shame he won’t be able to enjoy them.”

He slipped the tips of his fingers past the seam. It was embarrassing how your back arched off the wall. Charles made sure your legs were spread by keeping a knee pressed between them and he looked pleased with himself as his hand travelled further down your panties.

His hand rested just above your clit, he didn’t need to go any further to know you were soaking. Charles knew exactly what to do and say to turn you on, to leave you craving him. His nose brushed against yours and if you tilted your chin up the slightest bit, your lips would connect.

But Charles dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck instead, the spot where your throat met your jawline. You craned your head upwards, automatically giving him easier access as his teeth grazed your skin.

Charles knew your body better than you did. He knew that the second he took your earlobe between his teeth, your breaths would become staggered. He knew that the tighter he held onto your wrist, the more you gave in, you always gave in. He knew that the moment his fingers brushed over your clit, a helpless whimper would pass through your lips.

Charles knew the pattern by heart. He knew you.

So when he did all of that and Carlos’ name didn’t cross your mind, you knew you were screwed. You should have been trying harder to push Charles off of you. You shouldn’t have even showed up here in the first place.

He started massaging your clit, slowly yet confident in his actions and you were absolutely throbbing. Charles didn’t like gentle so the fact he was taking his time right now, purposely trying to work you up even more, only pissed you off further.

Charles dropped his mouth, moving to suck on another sensitive part of your neck. He debated leaving a mark, something you’d struggle to hide when you eventually, inevitably, returned to Carlos.

“Charles,” you swallowed, legs shaking as he focused all his energy on your clit. Rubbing the nub beneath the pads of his fingers.

“Oui, mon amour?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, it was an act. Nothing about this, about him, was sweet. He lifted his head, nose brushing against yours as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Tell me what you want.”

It took a second, but you managed to form a single coherent thought, forcing the name out through clenched teeth, knowing just how much it would get under Charles’ skin.

“Carlos.”

Charles had the audacity to laugh. His lips hovered over yours, barely touching, but close enough that you found yourself trying to lean forward to connect them.

“Wrong answer.”

Without warning, Charles’s hand dipped further and he plunged two fingers inside of you. He watched with a smug look on his face as your jaw fell open and a helpless inhale was all that came from you. You attempted to clench your legs together but Charles made sure that his knee kept them apart as he slowly started to slide his digits in and out.

“You always take me so well, don’t you?” His praise sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core. He kissed your jaw softly, “So tight, Y/N. Does Carlos not know how to fuck you?”

He wasn’t looking for an answer. And it wasn’t like you were in the state of mind to give him one. Charles curled his fingers inside of you and your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to get as much out of this as you possibly could.

He was relentless with his fingers and stubborn in the way he held your wrists above your head when all you wanted to do was touch him. Each time his fingers entered you it was driven by fury and lust, a dangerous combination that you knew so well.

He was purposely keeping his lips off of you now, wanting to watch you crumble from just his fingers alone. He’d tease you with his breath hitting your lips, or grazing his mouth along your jaw, but he wouldn’t give you what you desperately wanted.

This was a game to him. Bring you to the edge until you had no choice but to beg.

He added a third finger without so much of a thought, loving the way your walls clenched around him. Charles wished he didn’t have to use his fingers to fuck you, but he could be patient. He could play the long game tonight.

And then he stopped, his fingers deep inside you but refused to move them. You swallowed and attempted to rock your hips against his hand, but Charles wouldn’t budge.

“You’re too quiet,” he said, head slightly tilted. It was true, though. There were no helpless moans or whimpers coming from the back of your throat. No pleas to go faster, harder. You were biting your tongue and holding back.

It was because you didn’t want him to know how desperate you were. It was the last bit of pride you were holding onto, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe you just don’t turn me on the way you used to.”

He laughed cruelly as he started his assault on your pussy again, curling his fingers and getting just the right angle, knowing what you said was bullshit. Charles smirked, “We both know that's a lie.”

“Fuck me,” Your head fell back against the wall, your legs were shaking. Charles was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Ask nicely and maybe I will.”

“I’m not asking you for anything.”

“That’s fine, mon amour,” Charles dragged his thumb over your clit and that familiar sensation started to build in your centre. “I will happily watch you cum all over my fingers again, and again, and again, until you forget your own name.”

He rammed his fingers in you again, picking up his pace.

“Or better yet,” Charles left a delicate kiss right below your ear, applying more pressure to your clit, “Until you forget his name.”

That should not have been what did it for you, Charles dragging your relationship through the dirt, but the second those words left his mouth you were gone.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. What was worse was the strangled moan you failed to keep back that was music to Charles’ ears. You pulsed around him and he continued to fuck you with his fingers through it all, not letting up until you were shaking and even then he just brought them to a halt and left them inside you.

Charles released the grip he had on you and your wrists were sore and tender. You didn’t have to look at them to know how red they were, and in all honesty, the pain you’d feel tomorrow was the last thing on your mind.

You were breathless, staring up at Charles and trembling each time one of his fingers brushed against your sensitive walls. He leaned forward, once again hovering his lips over yours, both of you wondering who would make the move to close the gap once and for all.

Him fingering you was one thing. It was pure sexual tension built up over the course of god knows how long. But by kissing him, this moment would become so much more intimate. Less lust, more desire. A kiss was supposed to be shared with the person you loved, it was supposed to make you feel safe and adored.

And you didn’t love Charles.

But you kissed him anyway.

With his hand still down your pants, you took that daring step to press your lips against his. It was rough and frantic and your tongues were clashing as you held onto the side of his face, relishing in the feeling of his stubble beneath your fingers.

Charles didn’t let you enjoy this for very long. He pulled back, keeping your jaw between his forefinger and thumb as he forced your mouth open. His thumb traced along your lower lip and as he slowly slid his fingers out of you, past your aching folds, you recognised the deviant look in his eyes.

Charles brought his fingers, soaked with your juices, up to your lips. The sight of you licking yourself off of him turned him on more than anything else ever could. This was a mess he created and you were cleaning it up, without so much as a verbal instruction.

He forced his fingers into your mouth, suppressing a moan when your tongue swirled around his digits. He could see the tears well up in yours as he pushed them as far back as his knuckles would allow, getting off on the control he held over you.

That’s all it ever was. Charles needed to be in control. You wouldn’t have had a problem with that if that desire of his didn’t extend past the bedroom, but it always did.

Charles pulled his fingers out of your mouth when he noticed you struggling to breathe around them.

It was safe to say that neither of you what to do next. This wasn’t like all of the other times you fought and made up with sexual acts. You weren’t supposed to be his to fight with anymore. You shouldn’t have caved as quickly as you did.

He wasn’t holding you anymore. Nothing was keeping you from pushing him away and heading towards the door. You could storm out of here and pretend like none of this happened, like your boyfriend's teammate wasn’t just knuckles deep inside of you.

But you didn’t leave.

You stood with your back against the wall, eyes locked on Charles as the same thoughts ran through his mind. He didn’t want you to leave. The longer he kept you here, the more time you spent away from Carlos. Fuck Carlos, he thought. Fuck his teammate for stealing you from him.

Charles still wanted to hear you beg.

All it took was a microscope raise of his eyebrows and you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Charles feverishly reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body, swearing under his breath when he saw the red lace bra you had on. That you wore for Carlos.

It had to go.

Before he could rip the material off of you, you grabbed his shirt and peeled it off his body. If you were shirtless, it was only fair that he was too.

And then it was a race to see who could get the others clothes off fastest. Charles’ lips attacked your neck as he pushed your jeans down as much as he could, relying on you to step out of them and kick them to the side. You unzipped his joggers and he stepped out of them, hearing him groan when you palmed his painfully hard dick through his briefs.

He cupped your panties, feeling how soaked you were through them. He had half a mind to fuck you against the wall, but he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted that easily.

Charles had to fight with himself to step away from you and when he did you were confused. You stood with your back against the wall as you watched him walk backwards towards the bed, the outline of his cock constricted against the thin material.

He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread as they hung off the end of it. His palms rested against the blanket as he leaned backwards and nodded his head, gesturing you to follow.

And you did. Of course you did. Charles was intoxicating as much as he was toxic. You couldn’t get enough and for that reason alone, he would be the death of you.

You stood between his legs, arms draped over his shoulders as Charles took in the sight of your body, your curves that he had had memorised, the red lace that was giving him a headache.

He reached around you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. Your fingers became tangled in his hair as he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers, pinching it until you moaned in pleasure, or pain, or both.

Charles kept his hand on you, continuing to fondle and show attention to one of his favourite parts of you as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the spot right between your breasts.

He was being uncharacteristically slow. Something that never lasted, but you didn’t let yourself think about it as Charles took your other nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like he had done so many times before. When he grazed his teeth over you, your knees momentarily buckled. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs again and you needed him to do something about it.

You dropped your knee to the edge of the bed, ready to straddle him, but Charles had other plans in mind. He stared up at you, devilishly handsome, dark hair pulled in all sorts of directions, an unruly sight that was making you want to drop to your knees.

And you probably would have, had he not spun you around and pulled you to sit on his lap. Charles could feel how wet you were as you soaked through your underwear and onto his bare thigh. He used one hand to force your legs apart as the other found your neck, not yet applying any sort of restraint but it was only a matter of time.

You were so focused on what Charles had in store for you that when he gave you a second to compose yourself, you found that you were staring directly at your own reflection. There was a mirror across from the bed. Charles wanted a show.

The sight of you settled on his thigh, his hand around your throat as the light caught the bulging muscles in his arm almost made you cum again. He was watching you, eyes glued to yours in the reflection.

“You’re going to ride me, chérie, understand?” Charles raised his lips to your ear, dragging his teeth over the lobe and you shivered in response. You could see his sly smile in the mirror, “You’re going to watch yourself as you get off just from my thigh.”

All you could do was nod. You weren’t in any position to argue, nor did you want to.

So slowly, you started rocking your hips back and forth atop his leg, clenching where you could to feel any bit of friction. You found a steady pace, one that seemed to suffice as Charles watched silently, jaw locked and eyes never leaving yours.

You wished you didn’t have your underwear on still, but that was half of the tease. Charles knew how desperate you were to feel his hard thigh against your folds, bringing you to the edge, but he also knew that you wouldn’t last if that was the case. He needed you to work for it.

He grabbed your chin and roughly turned your face towards him, temporarily pulling your eyes off of the mirror.

And then he was kissing you. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue diving inside of your mouth like he owned it. His suppressed groan only encouraged you to rock your hips faster, which you did. The ache between your legs was borderline painful as you became overstimulated, desperate to find that second high so soon after your first.

Charles wasn’t going to help you at all. The most he did was trail his hand up your body, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your sensitive nipples until you cried out against his lips. Your body had been tense since you first stepped into his hotel room and now you were feeling all of your energy being sapped. And he hadn’t even fucked you.

“Please,” your helpless whisper against his lips earned you a wicked smirk in response.

“Please what?”

His dick was rock hard against you and you wanted it inside of you. It wasn’t fair that he was making you wait for it when you knew he was just as desperate to fuck you.

You hadn’t even noticed you stopped moving until Charles landed a light slap to your cheek, “I didn’t say you could stop.”

You fell into that rocking motion again. His grip on your breast was tight and it took all of you not to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you either had two choices. Look at him or look in the mirror.

You opted for the mirror, looking at how dishevelled you were. Faded mascara under your eyes. Red marks on your neck from where Charles held his grip. The girl in the mirror was desperate for a release, swaying back and forth on Charles’ thick thigh.

It was the worst possible time for Charles’ phone to start ringing.

“Leave it,” your voice almost caught in your throat, but you were in no position to be making any demands. Charles kept one hand on you as he reached backwards, grabbing the phone he had left on his pillow before you showed up.

The glint in his eye was unmistakable. His smirk, mischievous. Usually Charles didn’t have a problem letting his calls go to voicemail, but he wasn’t about to do that and you knew why when you caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing your boyfriend's name on the caller ID.

Your heart sank to your stomach, but Charles sliding his hand towards your core was a good distraction.

“Don’t,” now you were begging, but for all the wrong reasons. “Don’t answer it, please.”

“It could be important,” Charles’ tongue slid across his teeth. “I suggest you stay quiet, mon amour.”

And then he answered it, bringing the phone up to his ear, “Carlos, what’s up?”

You probably could have stayed quiet had Charles not dropped his hands past the seam of the red lace once more. He wasted no time in rubbing his fingers over your clit and you inhaled a sharp breath, watching him with worried eyes through the reflection.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” you could hear Carlos through the receiver. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your staggered breathing, “but you don’t know where Y/N is, do you?”

Charles looked so calm and collected as he answered. You wanted to slap the smug expression off of him, “No, why would I know?”

It shouldn’t have surprised you how believable he sounded. Charles knew how to lie, he did it frequently throughout your relationship. This was the first time you were part of his lie.

And then he slipped his finger inside of you again, something that he wasn’t originally going to do, but with Carlos calling, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He wanted you to squirm, to make a sound, to do anything that Carlos would hear and leave him questioning when he hung up the phone.

You brought your hand to your mouth to silence yourself and Charles’ devious smile only grew.

“She went out for a walk a while ago and she isn’t answering her phone now. I just want to make sure she's okay.”

You had completely abandoned your phone in your jacket pocket. It was sitting right by the door to the hotel room, forgotten about.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charles plunged a second finger inside of you and started to scissor them. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you could taste blood. Charles wasn’t going easy on you, he wanted you to be struggling right now.

You had stopped rocking, trying to gain a little bit of control as Charles kept you angled against his chest to keep his fingers in you. He wanted to feel you dripping all over his thigh. He wanted his fingers to glisten when he pulled them out.

“She could be lost-”

“Mate,” Charles cut him off harshly, simultaneously picking up the pace with his fingers. He so badly wanted to tell his teammate that you were safe, in good hands, falling apart on top of him. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re better off without her.”

Leave it Charles to degrade you to your boyfriend while he rammed his fingers inside of you so hard you could feel it in your stomach.

Carlos, bless his soul, you didn’t deserve him, scoffed into the phone, “Just let me know if you see her, okay?”

He pressed his thumb to your clit, meeting your stare in the mirror and taking a second before answering, just to bring you a little bit closer to the edge. Your legs were shaking, you could feel yourself climbing closer and closer to your release. Charles’ fingers in you, the attention he was giving your clit, the way he stared at you like he was challenging you to say something while he was on the phone, all of it was overwhelming in the best, and worst, ways.

There was no singular thought in your mind except his fingers, and how good they felt, and how badly you wanted to cum. You clenched your walls around him and Charles momentarily forgot that Carlos was waiting for a response. The quietest groan passed his lips and he tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, will do,” Charles couldn’t hang up faster. He threw his phone to the side and focused all of his attention on your pussy. Dragging his fingers through your folds, rolling his thumb over your clit.

With his other hand finally free, he raised it to your neck once more. You barely had time to take a breath before you could feel the sides of your windpipe becoming constricted under the pads of his fingers. The lack of oxygen gave you a headrush. Charles was taking complete control as you continued to sit on his lap and fuck his fingers for the second time, all while watching in the mirror.

“You’re the worst,” you spoke through clenched teeth, dragging your hand up to tangle your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

Charles was unaffected by the words he had heard so many times before, “I told you to be quiet.”

A gasp left your mouth when he tightened his grip on your neck. You still attempted to find your voice “You- fuck, you didn’t want me to be quiet,”

He chuckled, “You’re right.”

His abuse on your clit became heavier as he pulled his fingers out of you agonisingly slowly. He nudged his leg against you, instructing you to get back to riding his thigh, you weren’t supposed to have stopped.

“I can’t help it that I love the sounds you make for me,” he was practically growling. “I wanted Carlos to hear, he’s probably never heard them before.”

You stayed quiet, feeling all logic leave you as it became increasingly harder to catch your breath or keep your eyes on him.

Charles loosened his grip for a split second, just to give you a break, “Answer me when I talk to you. Carlos doesn’t know how to make you feel this good, does he?”

You shook your head, stammering out a quiet, “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” his hand tightened around your throat, constricting your airways once more.

The only sound that filled the room was your occasional whimpers between breathless moans of pleasure. Charles continued to praise you quietly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked getting off from riding his thigh. It was the praise combined with his suffocating grip that brought you to edge but it was the way he feverishly rolled his thumb over your clit that pushed you over.

You came undone on his lap, your panties absolutely soaked as your pussy convulsed while waves of pleasure coursed through you. Charles let go of your throat and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, pulling on his hair as you rode out the rest of your high.

Charles waited a few seconds before taking your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, it was one of those rare gentle moments you two shared between rounds.

“You think you have one more in you?” He asked, barely moving his mouth from yours. You couldn’t speak, but you could nod and you felt his lips curve into a smile, “Good girl.”

He flipped you around and got you situated at the top of the bed, your head falling back onto the pillows. Charles finally discarded the last bit of red lace you wore, they were absolutely ruined at this point, and he pulled his briefs off as well.

If you had the energy in you, you would have reached for him, attempted to give him a half-assed hand job or possibly taken him in your mouth, but all you could do was lay there and watch as he fisted his hand around his already hard cock.

Charles pushed your legs apart until you were on full display for him. You were staining the hotel sheets with how wet you were, not like either of you cared.

None of this mattered, it was all fucking stupid. The way the two of you ended up crawling back to each other after eight months of moving on was stupid. The way you found yourself desperate for him to fuck you after fingering you twice was stupid. The way Charles wanted to stare at you just a little bit longer because he knew this opportunity would never come again was stupid. All of it.

Charles shifted towards you, dropping his body on top of yours but using his arm to keep himself propped up. You could feel the tip of his dick run through your folds, teasing you, because that’s all he seemed to know how to do.

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Charles whispered, staring down at you with a look that was filled with lust and loss, a combination you hadn’t seen before with him.

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” you retorted, not about to take the sole blame for the situation you found yourselves in.

“I’ll always let you in.”

There it was. The sprinkle of good hidden beneath the cascading tsunami of bad.

“Don’t say that,” you shook your head, swallowing when he inched his cock into you slowly, taking his goddamn time because he knew how much you hated it.

“I mean it.” Charles’ voice was hoarse as you watched his features tighten. He pressed his forehead against yours, sliding out again right before you could feel all of him. “We could have been good together, Y/N, we could have worked through our problems. Instead you ran directly to Carlos.”

You didn’t entertain that idea for a second. The two of you would have never been on the right terms. Years of couples counselling couldn’t fix what went wrong. You were each other's worst nightmare, your own individual walking red flags that should have been avoided at all costs.

But that was Charles’ favourite colour and you looked the best in it.

“Carlos loves me,” you said, which was most definitely the wrong thing to say as Charles dragged the tip of himself over your centre again.

He laughed, of course he laughed. Carlos loved you and yet here you were, about to let your ex-boyfriend, Carlos’ teammate, fuck you because you couldn’t work out your issues in a healthy way.

“And where is he now, hmm?” Charles asked, eyes darting all over your face. “More importantly, why aren’t you with him, chérie?”

You didn’t have an answer. Which was better for Charles anyway. He didn’t want to give you the chance to change your mind about what was to come next.

With no warning, and a quick snap of his hips, he rammed his dick inside of you. Despite how many times he had fucked you before, you never seemed to get used to his size. Charles stretched you out, making you gasp in relief of the feeling of finally being full. You loved his fingers, but they just didn’t compare.

“Carlos can’t fuck you like I can, that’s why,” Charles answered his own question as your nails grazed his back before clenching onto his bicep. He kept at this steady pace for less than a minute, watching as your face twisted in pleasure, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

Your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out suddenly. He would always fucking do this.

“Charles,” you groaned, mostly due to annoyance but your tone carried a delicate plea. That’s what he wanted after all, for you to beg for him. You swallowed your pride, you had no choice, “Please.”

“Please, what?”

You were throbbing for him and his dick teasing your entrance did nothing to help.

“For the love of God, Charles, just fuck me already.”

That was as close to a beg as he was going to get.

Charles slammed back into you, so hard and fast that a scream left your throat. God you hoped these walls were soundproof. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out.

Your body couldn’t take it after already coming twice. Your legs shook beneath him as you clawed his back, digging your nails so deep into his skin you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood.

Charles knew your body, he knew what angles to go from to hit all the right spots. Searing pleasure mixed with the pain from overstimulation had you helpless, but this was what you wanted.

You looked up at him, recognising the familiar animalistic stare in his eyes. Charles reached above you to grip onto the headboard, his pace never faltering. You don’t know what came over you as you brought your hand to his cheek, but you watched as his gaze softened for that brief second.

Charles liked it rough, but you still craved that bit of tenderness to balance it out. Even as you took your anger out on each other, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. You wanted to swallow his breaths and pretend that for a minute, everything was fine.

You pulled his face towards yours and kissed him before you could think twice about it. His tongue fought yours and you felt his thrusts becoming unsteady. A sound emerged from the back of his throat as you kissed him like there was no tomorrow and you swore you could have came for a third time right then.

Charles dropped his face to your neck when he felt himself starting to experience something other than lust and jealousy. He didn’t want to be craving you again, he didn’t want to fall back into this cycle.

“I fucking hate what you do to me, you know that right?”

“I know,” you dragged your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, body quivering when he kissed the spot below your ear. “And you know I hate you, right?”

“Oh I know,” He accentuated his words with a particularly hard thrust that had you reeling and it was only a few seconds later when you were seeing stars for the third time that night.

Your orgasm was earth-shattering. Almost like the entire world around you paused while waves of euphoria crashed through your entire body. Charles continued to fuck you through your high as you screamed his name, holding his body tight against yours.

Your pussy clenched around him as you shook with pleasure. Everything about you felt numb as Charles continued his violent thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall. He didn’t plan on slowing down, desperate to fuck the literal living daylight out of you for one last time, before you had to return to Carlos.

His dick twitched inside of you, followed by a string of French and English expletives under his breath against your skin. And then he was cumming too, releasing everything he had inside of you.

His body shook before he collapsed on top of your already exhausted body. Your heavy breaths were synchronised as you loosened your grip on his hair, switching to gently twisting your fingers through the dark strands instead.

Charles hummed into the crook of your neck and you braced yourself as he pulled out, wincing at how empty, and sore, you suddenly felt. You half expected Charles to stand up and go to the bathroom to give you the opportunity to leave without saying anything. You wouldn’t have even been surprised if he was blunt and told you to go back to Carlos.

But he rested his head on the pillow next to yours after pulling the covers over your bodies. He then turned your face gently so he could admire you and your post orgasmic glow. All lust behind his eyes had faded, replaced by something else now. Something you were never able to put a name to, something you once convinced yourself was love.

It was longing. A yearning desire for what used to be, what could have been. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You knew the right move would be to get up and leave. You fucked your anger out. Carlos was worried sick about you. You needed to leave.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Not as you watched Charles’ eyelashes flutter softly until they closed, his hand still resting on the side of your face. You turned slightly to kiss the inside of his palm, and climbing out of bed did cross your mind.

You probably would have, had Charles, in his half-asleep state, not muttered, “Stay.”

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep as well, the two of you facing each other throughout the duration of the night. At one point, his hand found your waist and that’s where it stayed. Charles lovingly touched you more in his sleep than he ever did while awake.

You could have stayed in that bed for hours with him, but you had a rude awakening when you heard your phone ringing from the bedside table. Charles groaned, having woken up too, but he just waved the call off, letting you deal with it.

Your eyes were still shut when your hand fumbled around the surface next to you until you found what you were looking for. You barely registered what you were doing or what time it was as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call.

You cleared your throat, “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

Carlos saying your name in response jolted you awake. Your eyes widened when his accent flowed through the phone, the concern evident in the way he said your name.

“Carlos,” you sucked in a breath. “I-, I’m sorry, I was out-” you didn’t even know what time it was. You were struggling to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t go back to the hotel room, something that he would believe, but nothing came to mind. “I didn’t- I mean-”

None of what you were saying made any sense, but as it would turn out, you didn’t need an excuse. There was a more pressing issue at hand.

His heavy breath had your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and you couldn't have prepared yourself for the next words to come out of his mouth.

“Why are you answering Charles’ phone?”

this is so long im so sorry, if you made it this far..see u in hell

masterlist here

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 x you #holllandtrash #nsfr #im so sorry #f1 requests #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader

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sunshine-singer · 5 months

Text

Lost and Found | Mishanks x Reader

Characters: Mihawk, Shanks, Reader, and a brief mention of the Red Hair Pirates Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma but nothing in detail, fear of the ocean and ships are also briefly mentioned, reader can be gender neutral but 'sweetheart' and 'darling' are used as terms of endearment (if I've missed anything please let me know) Word count: 2.1k

You were shivering. It still felt like you were underwater, pushed by harsh hands and left to drown. How could they do that to you? Your mind is frantic with panic. You can't breathe.

You feel a hand on the side of your face, except this hand is gentle. You furrow your brow as your mind refuses to register the fact you're in different surroundings now. The hand brushes your hair away from your forehead. A gentle voice makes a shushing sound and you hear a door being opened in the background. The hand leaves your face and you barely make out the silhouette of a man getting up to leave. You grab his arm.

"Please, don't do this to me. I'm begging you. Just don't do this." You plead, voice panicked.

You still can't make out his face, the only thing that registers in your mind is a flash of red. You then fall back into exhaustion, eyes finally closing and mind at rest.

You wake again to a cold compress being placed on your forehead. It is calmer this time, and while the clutches of ill health are still nipping at your heels, it is nowhere near the panicked delirium of what was before. You register your surroundings more this time. You're on a bed, in a room with a fireplace that is currently blazing away, and old, stone walls that give a hint of the grandeur of the room. You feel the presence of a man beside you as you become more conscious of your surroundings.

You startle a little as you make eye contact with yellow eyes. They seem to stare as if dissecting you but carry an air of indifference at the same time. You wonder how the man before you pulls it off.

"What do you remember?" He asks you, tone flat and straightforward.

You're taken aback at the question. He offered you nothing to begin with. Not his name, or any information of your whereabouts. However, you seem to be in a decent position from the risk assessment you can pull together from such little knowledge of the situation.

You decide to answer truthfully.

"The sea…" You weakly respond, and then clear your throat, "I remember being in the sea and then I remember being here. There was a man with red hair, but I don't recall anything else."

He nods in acknowledgement of your words.

"As I suspected. You had a fever, which seems to have broken this morning. I advise you to rest for now, and know that you are safe here." He simply states, rising and going to leave the room.

"Wait! What's your name?" You ask, mind needing at least a small bit of information.

The stranger raises his eyebrow at you but replies nonetheless, "Dracule Mihawk."

You look over him once more and simply respond, "Thank you, Mihawk."

He nods in acknowledgement once again and takes his leave.

Turns out Mihawk was right. Your fever had gotten much better, and you were much more aware of your environment now. You currently had a mug of tea in hand, brought to you by the red-haired man who had made himself known as Shanks. He smiles warmly at you as he sits next to your bed. He's genuine, you can tell somehow. He has the sort of warmth that seems to light his whole soul. He's telling you a tale, and you're immediately taken in by his demeanour. In fact, you're genuinely humoured by the man.

"So then I told him, don't you ever threaten my friends… and then-" He tells you, cut off by a voice at the doorway.

"Yes I'm sure your stories of grandeur are impressive Red-Hair." Mihawk snarkily says, leant up against the doorway, with his arms crossed. Shanks shakes his head, albeit fondly.

"Oh come on Hawk-Eyes! You want to share some stories too?" He cheekily replies, his grin wide and eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mihawk rolls his eyes but then takes a seat next to Shanks. Shanks carries on in his cheeky manner, and gently nudges the other, head coming to settle on his shoulder. You realise then that both these men might be more. In fact, your eyes settle down to the matching rings on their respective fingers. Upon your silent revelation, Shanks' grin seems to grow impossibly wider.

"Best kept pirate secret sweetheart, don't feel like you're missing out." He tells you, giving you a wink in the process.

Your recovery was slow. It took a whole two weeks before you were well enough to leave the bed for more than a couple of hours at a time. The men you had met were nothing but patient and kind, and you had even started to warm to Mihawk's coldness. A coldness that was more stable than anything, finding comfort in the self-assured air he carried around him. No need to feel anxious when he was so upfront in his behaviour. You had spent a few evenings simply in his presence. He had left a book next to your bedside which you had finished quickly, and had then realised your bibliophile nature when you would indulge him in conversations about plot devices and character tropes. It’s in one of these sessions that your relationship with him develops into something more.

You immediately change and curl in on yourself. The air in the room changes and you can feel the infection of panic start to seep into your being. You do your best to remain calm.

"You're pirates." You simply announce, starting to shake slightly.

The pair share a look but Mihawk decides to act first.

"Yes we are," He confirms, "but I did not lie when I said you were safe here. I am a man of my word."

You feel sick. Sure, these men have shown you nothing but kindness, you couldn't deny that, but pirates? Pirates you were scared of, in fact, terrified of. You've hurt too much to let your guard down now.

"Sweetheart," Shanks starts, causing you to flinch, "it's okay."

He puts his arm up to show you he means no harm and keeps his eyes connected to yours. He carefully takes one of the blankets laid before you and adjusts it back around you.

"I… I don't trust pirates." You hesitantly tell them.

Shanks reacts with nothing but compassion.

"Then you're a smart girl." He replies, "Like good and bad men, there's good and bad pirates, and we're some of the better bunch. Sure, Mihawk here can be a little grouchy, but he's not that scary after all."

The man in question sighs a little but acquiesces nonetheless.

"You're in my home, surely that is trust enough? I could've left you there as you washed up on the shore of this island but I did not. Surely, it would be a waste to be unkind to you now?" Mihawk questions and Shanks gives him a dubious look.

You're quiet for a second, and while the shaking does not stop, you find the strength in you to reply.

"It would be, but I'm still scared." You meekly speak, and you can see in Shanks' face his heartstrings are being pulled.

"Let us help you, sweetheart." He bargains, "And we'll earn your complete trust… I'm sure of it."

You nod and the energy of the room fills with warmth once again.

Mihawk lets out another sigh, "Well Red-Hair, you do seem to collect your strays."

"Shut it Hawk Eyes." Shanks fondly responds.

You’re ranting again. Mihawk dutifully listens on while he sips from a glass of wine. A vintage no doubt, far too sophisticated for you to even fathom a guess at the year or location it was from. It’s at this random moment he smirks, and surprisingly lets out a sound that is akin to a small chuckle. You look up at him with a bewildered expression on your face which seems to make his smirk a tad wider.

“What is it?” You ask, voice reaching a quiet tone as you take in his odd behaviour.

“You are a hopeless romantic darling.” He responds as he takes in your words about the latest romance novel he managed to procure for you.

You seem to gape like a fish out of water. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You decide not to comment, unsure of how to gauge what has happened.

Instead, you ask another question, “Aren’t there parts of all of us that are?”

“Perhaps.” Mihawk cooly replies.

The next time he leaves you a new book, a single red rose sits on top of it.

With Shanks it was different. He felt like an old friend and had a familiarity to him that instantly made you comfortable. Well, that was until he put you in an uncomfortable situation.

“Shanks, I’m not sure I can do this.” You tell him, starting at the obstacle in front of you.

His crew, the Red-Hair pirates, had arrived on the island not too long ago. Both men had told you that they were coming, with Mihawk playing up his reluctance, so you had time to mentally prepare. However, much to Shanks’ disappointment, you had hidden away in your allocated room. He was not going to allow this to happen.

“It’s this or I take you to meet my crew sweetheart.” He announces, sternly with his arm wrapped around your waist.

He had taken you to the empty Red Force. The idea was to kill two birds with one stone. See if it triggered both your memories of how you had fallen into the sea, and start to curb your fear of pirates. You look up at him, and seeing his unwavering resolve in his face, you sigh. You carefully take the steps on board and immediately dart away from the railings, into the middle of the deck.

“Woah, okay. You’re okay.” Shanks offers reassurance, “How about we sit here, hm?”

You’re shaking again, and Shanks knows it isn’t from the cold. He carefully lowers himself and sits down on the wooden flooring. He gestures and you follow, glad he’s giving you simple instructions in order not to overwhelm you.

“It’s just a boat sweetheart. Close your eyes.” He instructs you, and you vehemently shake your head.

He leans back and closes his eyes.

“C’mon it’s nice. You can hear the birds, and the waves, and feel the last remains of the sun on your face.” He states, trying to convince you still.

You consider the situation. Has he really done enough to earn your trust in the short time that you’ve known him? Is this the type of man who’d throw you overboard like the people before? With all the anxiety in your stomach, you use the adrenaline to make your body shut your eyes before you can chicken out. Shanks gives it another minute but then peeks one of his eyes open to see you’ve done what he said. He smiles to himself. You were starting to trust them.

Another week goes by and you’ve dramatically improved. The Red-Hair pirate crew had gone without Shanks, with an agreement to come back in three weeks for their captain to join them once again. You’re with both of them this time. Mihawk cooks away while Shanks does his best to distract him with both affection and joking insults. Mihawk shoos him away but you can see he doesn’t really put any malice behind it. You realise in the domestic setting that you’ve come to care for them both.

“Penny for your thoughts sweetheart?” Shanks asks you when he gets bored of bothering his counterpart, coming to take a seat next to you.

“I suppose this is the right time for me to consider leaving or to establish a time frame.” You announce, trying your best to keep the sadness from entering your voice or demeanour.

The room goes silent and it’s Mihawk who breaks it.

“If that is what you wish then you may go…” He tells you, causing Shanks to let out a noise in protest, “but we’d like you to stay. Perhaps we can figure out how we all really feel about each other?”

Shanks settles beside you at those words. He looks at you expectantly, offering you a boisterous grin.

“I fear I have a lot to handle.” You meekly admit, curling in on yourself slightly.

“We’re asking for you as you are sweetheart.” Shanks declares.

You look at him, then to the other and see nothing but truth. You nod firmly and Shanks pulls you into his side, pressing a reassuring kiss to the top of your head.

“Plus, you’re terrified of boats and pirates sweetheart, how were you planning to get off this island?”

“Shut up, Shanks.”

Tag List: @bookandstar @bokutosbiceps

#mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #mihawk imagine #shanks imagine #mihawk x you #shanks x you #mishanks x you #mishanks x reader #mishanks imagine #one piece imagine

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foreverrandomwritings · 7 months

Note

Okay so my request is something that someone wrote for me for a different fandom but I’m slowly loving Jake and Bradley. Anyways I am Texas born and raised so I call everyone love, honey, sweetheart etc. but I got in trouble for doing it and apparently I offended everyone and such. And then something else happened where someone is hating on my personality. Can I just a fluffy fluff with either Jake or Bradley whomever you think it fits best. Where the reader is like slowly trying to change/caving into herself and not be as bubbly or happy and they notice and have a conversation and such about loving them as it. I’d love it if it was romantic. However if this is too much and you don’t want to write it I will not be offended. You do whatever you feel comfortable with and I will support you 💕

No Keying Cars

Summary: You overhear a conversation that plants a seed of doubt in your mind.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Afab!Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Warnings: Men being mean, swearing, broken noses, anxiety, insecurities and fluff.

Word count: 2929

Masterlist

The boys were used to your Texas charms, it was one of the many things that they loved about you. It made Jake feel at home which was perfect because he was always homesick. It always gave Bradley the comfort he desperately needed. Your relationship worked out well and none of you had been happier than you were together. Well that was until you heard Harvard, Yale and Fritz having a conversation about you being entirely too much at one of the many squads monthly get togethers.

“You agree that she just talks way too much right?” Yale and Fritz hummed in agreement. You stopped right around the corner of the doorway to the kitchen. You weren’t sure who they were talking about but the next sentence confirmed it was you.

“Also what’s with her calling everyone love and babe and shit? Like how fucking annoying, I’m not your boyfriend so stop fucking acting like it. Though I know Jake and Bradley have to be sick of that shit to.” You choked back a sob as you heard Yale’s comment. You’d been told so many times in your life you were a bit much. But Jake and Bradley had never made you feel like you were an annoyance. They had been the only ones that made you feel valid in your attitude. Though now doubt started to eat away at you. Were they annoyed with you? Were they just lying to you to save your feelings?

“Don’t even get me started on the way she acts all fucking peppy and happy all the time. There is no way she can be that perky. It's gotta be an act right?” Harvard and Yale laughed together at Fritz’s statement. You decided to turn around and walk back outside instead of wandering into the room to get your drink.

“Where’s your lemonade at darlin’?” Jake took your wrist lightly and brought you down to his lap. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder and watched Bradley running around the yard with Reuben's daughter on his shoulders acting like an airplane.

“Decided I wasn’t thirsty, hon-Jake.” The blonde gave you a confused look at the way you said his name but before he could ask you about it, Natasha dragged his attention away from you when she asked him something about work. You took the time to continue to think of everytime you had used a term of endearment with one of your shared friends, they never seemed bothered when you did. Though you guess it could be that they were all putting on an act and maybe they didn’t like you as much you thought they did. Maybe all the spa days with Natasha and her girlfriend Sylvia and movie nights with Bob and Halo were just them being nice to you.

“Hey baby you okay?” You hadn’t realized that Bradley was standing in front of you until he spoke. You shook your head trying to clear your thoughts before giving him a soft smile.

“Yea, just not feeling too well.” He looked at you curiously before handing you his water which you took a sip of gratefully. Jake’s hand on your back brought you a sense of comfort.

“Do you want to go home?” You pondered the question for a moment. On one hand you didn’t want to feel like a burden to those around you anymore and really wanted to leave. But on the other hand you knew that the boys valued their time with the squad and you didn’t want to take away from that. So you shook your head and assured him that you were fine. After a couple more reassurances he gave you a kiss on the head before going to ask Maverick about going back up to his hangar soon. The rest of the night went smoothly and you fell asleep cuddled up between your boyfriends when you eventually got back home.

You figured the next morning you’d feel better. That the anxiety that ate away at you the night before would have cleared your system but you were sorely mistaken. Throughout the work day you were careful about the way you talked to everyone. You toned down your usual cheerful attitude and didn’t send Bradley or Jake a single cute cat video on your lunch break.

When you got home you changed into your pajamas and crawled in bed. You turned on New Girl and let the voices of some of your favorite characters fill your head. The noise of the front door opening and closing had you turning over in bed towards the window. The voices of your boyfriends calling for you had you burrowing further down in the bed, remaining perfectly still in hopes they would think you were asleep.

“Oh I think she’s asleep, Bradshaw.” You let out a quite shaky breath at the sound of his footsteps walking back out of the room. An hour or so went by of you laying there staring at the wall, before you decided to find out what the ruckus was in the kitchen.

“Was your nap good honey?” Bradley’s voice greeted you as you padded into view. You gave him a soft hum in reply before taking a seat at the island. It was very abnormal for you to take a nap after work. You were normally bounding to the door in glee to greet them when they got home. So you knew they were most likely starting to suspect something was different.

“We're making your favorite for dinner.” Jake gave you a big smile which would normally have filled you with warmth but now you just felt like they were going out of their way for no reason.

“You guys didn’t have to do that.” You picked up a piece of mail and opened it, even though it was just a bill you still looked at it intently. Not wanting to see the looks on your boyfriend's faces.

“We know we don’t have to but we wanted to.” Bradley slipped your preferred drink beside you and you whispered a quiet thank you to him.

“Are you still feeling under the weather from last night?” Jake eyed you curiously as you put down the paper in your hands.

“Yea, I think I might be coming down with the bug going around or something.” You watched as they set the table and took all the food over. With a small sigh you grabbed your drink and took your seat at the round table. Jake was on your right and Bradley on your left. They asked you if you wanted to take a couple days off work to recover but you dismissed them, assuring them you’d be fine.

The three of you conversed about your days. When Jake mentioned dessert you excused yourself to bed claiming a headache. You missed the way they looked at each other in silent conversation. You slipped away from the table and crawled back in bed. This time actually falling asleep.

The next day was pretty much the same as the day prior. You went about work monotonously, then you got home and crawled in bed. The boys came home and asked if you needed them to get you anything or do anything for you and you waved them away with a sweet smile.

“Sweetheart, do you want to talk about anything?” Bradley asked you as he slipped into bed behind you wrapping his arm around you and dragging your back to his chest.

“I’m alright, love.” You whispered the assurance to him, his brows furrowed at the tiredness in your voice.

“But you know you can talk to me or Jake if you need to, right?” Him and Jake were both worried about you, you huffed at the thought of them stressing over you.

“I know Bradley. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” You moved back to bury yourself further into his arms, reveling in the feeling of being wrapped up in his warmth and surrounded by his scent.

The next morning Bradley went into work as usual but Jake hung back since his morning meeting was canceled. You had decided to call out of work in hopes of focusing on your mental health. Jake pestered you the whole morning before he went in to work.

“I can stay home today if you want me to. Mav wouldn’t mind if I missed one day to take care of you.” He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing slightly from his squatted position between your legs.

“There’s no need to do that Jake. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.” You placed a hand on his cheek and brought your lips to his in what you hoped was a reassuring kiss.

“Do you want me to tell Nat you want to cancel your girls night tonight?” You had completely forgotten about your plans for a group massage.

“No, I think I might need the night out.” A plan started to form in your head, because if anyone would be honest with you it would be the female aviator and her amazing partner. So you would ask them what they thought about you.

“Okay, well if you end up needing anything, me and Bradley are just a phone call away. I’ll see you later.” He gave you a final kiss before leaving you sitting on the couch. You sat there most of the day, the tv on in the background. You thought about what you were going to ask the pair later. When you finally decided on your questions you took a shower and sat down with a book. When the alarm on your phone went off notifying you that you had thirty minutes till you needed to be out the door you got up and got ready to go.

“Bradley told me you’ve been acting weird the last couple of days, are you okay?” You weren’t surprised that Bradley had talked to her. They were best friends after all.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Do you guys think I’m too much?” You turned your head on the table you were laying against and eyed Natasha curiously.

“What?” She gave you a bewildered look as she processed your question.

“Do you mind the way I call you love or honey or sweetheart sometimes?” You fired off another question their way.

“Why would you think that?” Sylvia piped up from the other side of Natasha. You could hear the surprise in her voice.

“Uhm. I just do.” Natasha gave you a look that said she didn’t believe you. You tried to keep your face emotionless but knew you failed when she narrowed her eyes at you.

“Tell me what you’re talking about. Now.” You let a groan slip through your lips as the masseuse dug into a particularly tense spot.

“I heard Harvard, Yale and Fritz talking about me at dinner over the weekend. They said that I was too much, that it was annoying that I used terms of endearment so often and said Bradley and Jake were probably sick of me.” You were chewing on your lip nervously. You knew how close the group was and didn’t want to step on toes. Which was one of the one reasons you hadn’t told Jake or Bradley.

“Those guys are assholes. You can’t believe a word they say. I’ll have a talk with them tomorrow.” She was a steady calm of rage as she spoke. You knew that nothing you’d say could change her mind so you didn’t even try.

“I vote we key their cars.” Sylvia spoke up and the two of you broke out into fits of laughter at the prospect.

“We aren’t going to do that.” You and Sylvia protested but Natasha made you both agree you weren’t which you both did.

“Have you talked to Jake and Bradley?” A loud sigh slipped through your lips at her question. Natasha rolled her eyes at the obvious answer on your face.

“No. I didn’t want to bother them.” Sylvia’s head popped up from over Natasha’s back. Her masseuse paused her movements as you gave her a look of surprise.

“You know those boys worship the ground you walk on right?” Your cheeks heated at her rhetorical question. Because you knew they always treated you right. Never made you seem like you were annoying them or bothering them in any way. You laughed at yourself realizing how silly you had been acting.

“I’ll talk to them soon, I promise.” Your promise seemed to be enough for them because all of you put your heads back down and continued your massages in content silence. The three of you grabbed dinner after leaving the spa and you decided that you'd talk to your boyfriends the next night. When you got home they were already in bed. You got ready for bed silently and slipped under the sheets with them.

You went about the next day as usual. Your attitude was much more cheerful at work and you were looking forward to getting home. Though there was still some doubt running through your mind. Even though you couldn’t think of a time where they seemed fed up with you, you were still nervous that maybe what the three men said rang true. You stopped and bought flowers on your way home and were putting them in respective vases when you heard the front door opening.

“Honey, we’re home.”Bradley called out and they went straight to the bedroom bypassing the kitchen all together. They were both surprised when they didn’t find you in bed. You stood leaned up against the counter waiting for them to find you. A smile grew on your face as you heard them fighting with each other on who was going to find you first.

“I found her, Bradshaw.” Jake called out as he spotted you. He ran up to you and spun you around gleefully.

“The funniest thing happened at work today.” Bradley said as he came into view. Jake sets you down, giving you a chaste kiss. Then Bradley was scooping you up nuzzling his face into your neck.

“What happened?” You giggled as his mustache tickled your skin.

“Natasha broke Yale’s nose. Then Mav announced that Yale, Harvard and Fritz are being transferred.” Your jaw dropped at Jake’s words, you did not expect Natasha to get violent.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, Bradley pulled back and eyed you. He expected you to be a bit more surprised at the news.

“Any idea why she would do that?” His mustache twitched as he spoke, cocking his head ever so slightly to the side.

“Uhm, I may have an idea.” You shrugged at him nonchalantly, pulling back from his grasp to move around the flowers in one of your vases.

“Care to share?” Bradley asked at the same time Jake spoke up.

“Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been acting weird?” Your hands paused around a rose as you nodded.

“I overheard them talking when I went inside for my lemonade. They were saying that I was annoying and too much. Said that you were both probably fed up with me.” They both knew of the insecurities you had from some bullying you went through growing up.

“Oh sweetheart. Why didn’t you say anything?” Jake moved your face towards his and looked for a clue on how you were feeling.

“I didn’t want to bother you guys. But Nat and Sylv both made it very clear that there was no way they were right. So I was going to talk to you guys tonight. But it seems that you guys beat me to it.” You watched his face for any signs that what they said could be true. But you found none, there was just pure love within his eyes.

“Now I want to punch them.” Bradley piped up and you snorted, though you knew he was being slightly serious.

“Sylv said we should key their cars.” You could see a spark of inspiration in Bradleys eyes as you glanced at him. Jake shook his head and kissed your cheek before moving around you.

“Neither of you are keying their cars.” The look that you and Bradley gave each other did nothing to reassure him.

“More seriously though you know we both love you right?” Bradley settled both of his hands on your hips and forced his face into a serious expression.

“I know that honey. Just had some old doubts eating at me these last couple of days.” Your thumb brushed against his cheek as you smiled at him.

“It was honestly the worst without hearing you call me sweetcheeks. Also I never realized how much I’d miss those cute cat videos until you weren’t sending them. Please promise to never deprive us of your magical personality again babe.” You felt your stomach start to flutter as butterflies flew through it rapidly. Jake always knew the right thing to say to brighten your mood.

“I promise.” You grinned at both of them, you knew at that moment you’d never find anyone better for you than the two men standing in the kitchen with you.

“Good now let's go get ice cream.” Bradley didn’t leave any room for debate and had you thrown over his shoulder in a moment, giggles poured out of you as they walked you out the door. Because where Jake knew what to say to brighten your mood Bradley always knew what to do.

A/N:Firstly I want to apologize for taking so long to write this. Secondly I hope this is what you wanted. Lastly as always likes, comments, follows and reblogs are much appreciated.

Tags(open): @kmc1989 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @teacupsandtopgun @fanboyluvr @loving-and-dreaming @eternallyvenus

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puddle-nerd · 7 months

Text

We Feast

Summary: As Ronal’s most dedicated student in the ways of healing, a soft spot had formed specifically for you, deeper than you might have guessed until your first heat hits you unexpectedly.

(Tonowari/Reader/Ronal)

Prompt 31 (A/B/O) for my final submission for LunasKinktober2023

Story Tags: No use of y/n, Female Reader, everyone is legal, A/B/O, M/F/F, Teacher/Student Relationship, Crushing on the Teacher, Overbearing Parents, Angst, Metkayina | Reef People Clan (Avatar), Na’vi Culture (Avatar – Cameron), Na’vi Language (Avatar – Cameron), First Heat, Maybe Dub-Con due to Heat Delerium, Threesome if you squint, Open Marriage-ish/Polyamory, Eating out, Face Sitting, Mention of inexperienced main female character, Voyeurism, Creampie Na’vi Translation: ‘Eve — girl (colloquial) Ma’ — my, mine, a way of showing possession of something Mawey — calm Muntxatan — husband Numeyu — student Oel ngati tse’a – “I see you” (physically) Olo’eyktan — Clan Leader Olo’zeykoyu — Clan Healer Paska’sngap — (NON-CANON) exact translation would be ‘honey sting’, a type of large bee that makes very sweet honeycomb Paskalin — honey (term of endearment) Sa’nu — mum/mom/mommy Sa’nok — mother (respectful) Tewng – loincloth Tìyawn — love Tsaheylu — a connection between two Pandoran beings (i.e. a Na’vi and a direhorse/ikran/ilu or between two Na’vi) with the tendrils of their neural queues enabling a mental communication between them and the sharing of information, including memories, emotions, and sensory input Tsahìk – a spiritual leader of a Na’vi clan, and the most important member next to the clan leader. The job of the Tsahìk is to interpret the will of Eywa, guide the clan spiritually, and perform important ceremonies Zeykoyu — healer Male OC: Ìtxän Te Atxzìtx Kxawun’iyan (a male Na’vi) and Ìstaw (your preferred male ilu) Author’s Note: Set around a year and a half before the events of Avatar: The Way of Water, before Ronal got pregnant and before the Recombinants arrived. This turned out a quite bit longer than I originally anticipated because I just couldn’t stop writing so if you’d prefer to skip straight to the smut, skip down to the break in text. And hey, so just in case you didn’t read the tags or the warning labels, this is a polyamorous relationship so this one will have Ronal and Reader going to town on each other in this chapter. If you don’t like descriptive scenes depicting woman on woman sexual action, then please don’t read this.

“Good, yes, Ma’numeyu,” Ronal praised you with a soft brush of her fingers along your bare shoulder as you ground the herbs into a fine powder for future use as an anti-inflammatory paste when introduced to a few drops of fresh water. It needed to be as fine as silk-sand to the touch or else it would not do its job as needed and would be, in turn, useless. And you refused to have anything of yours be considered useless or not even good enough. Being the youngest of three daughters of your family, your older sisters set the precedence by being a fantastic warrior and a fantastic fisherman/cook so you had to be just as good as them, if not better or else your parents would pay you less attention or compare you to your sisters. So, you had to be the best zeykoyu as your talents lay with healing. And who better to learn from than the current Tsahìk?

You bowed your head with a slight smile. “Thank you, Ma’tsahìk,” you acknowledged the compliment with a light blush and grabbed the last of the herb to add to her mortar.

“Your dedication could lead you down the path to Olo’zeykoyu… one day.” You froze at those words hanging so tantalizingly in the air between the two of you and slowly, you glanced upwards slowly while the rest of your body remained paused in time, hunched over, hands gripping the pestle above the bowl of half ground herbs. Ronal raised a brow, a challenging smirk curling upon the corner of her turquoise lips. “Do you doubt your Tsahìk, Ma’numeyu?”

Immediately, you shook your head, breathing out, “No, never, Ma’tsahìk. I…” You licked your lips and whispered, “I just… that would be so… wonderful.”

And if you became the clan healer… that would mean you would get to have even more time side-by-side with the beautiful female you looked up to and adored so earnestly. Oh, yes, you wanted it – all of it, the position, the respect, the time with your Tsahìk.

Blue eyes softened as they took you in, seeing more than you perhaps wanted her to see of you, seeing the need for acknowledgement, the need to feel appreciated for your talents, the need to not be compared to someone else and found lacking. She shifted closer on her knees and lifted a hand and cupped your jaw so tenderly, the look in her eyes so warm and welcoming, so unlike your parents’ or your sisters’. “You will have earned it, Ma’numeyu,” Ronal whispered softly, earnestly, shuffling even closer to you. “Your dedication… and your talent… and your work ethic… is beyond par to any of my other students. One day… paskalin. Until then, finish grinding.” She shot you a smile, her hand cupping your cheek just a little bit firmer before it dropped.

The sound of the mauri pod front flap lifting had both female Na’vi’s looking up to see the fearsome Olo’eyktan stepping into the woven hut. His eyes immediately sought out his wife and a smile spread upon his lips.

“Hello, tìyawn,” he greeted the older woman, crossing the expanse between them and pressing his tattooed forehead to hers, their noses brushing tenderly.

You immediately dropped your gaze, face flushing as you bore witness to such a tender and intimate moment between the mated pair. Because your gaze was dropped, you missed the way the two of them glanced at you, a silent smile shared between them as they then met the other’s gaze, a conversation happening between them with only a few facial twitches and smiles.

The massive male cautiously turned and greeted you warmly. “Good afternoon, ‘eve.”

You looked up, smiling warmly and bowing your head respectfully towards your clan leader. “Good afternoon, Olo’eyktan,” you replied back.

“Just Tonowari is fine, paskalin,” he reminded you with a warm smile. It was contagious and you returned it with one of your own, blushing while bowing your head in respect once more for this man, not able to hide the shiver that ran down your spine at the nickname he had used for you. He was always just as kind and as warm as his wife was to you (in private; she couldn’t play favorites in public) and the two of them together like this… these two beautiful, wonderful people who were so genial and kind to you, it made your heart beat just a little bit faster with longing.

You… wanted…

“Unfortunately, your sa’nok is looking for you,” Tonowari’s voice made you focus back on the present and you flushed once again, this time in embarrassment at having drifted off on a mental tide. “She… seemed insistent.” There was a curiosity in his tone but all you could feel was dread at those words.

Because that was not good news.

Your mother never sought you ought on purpose.

Glancing at Ronal, she nodded, releasing you from your duties. “My apologies, Ma’tsahìk,” you murmured, setting aside your mortar and pestle and pushing yourself to your feet. “I will make it up to you tomorrow.” She laughed in enjoyment of your continued commitment to prove yourself and waved you away. You left the mauri pod with one, last respectful bow of your head to both of them before departing and stepping out into the bright sun. Shielding your eyes, you blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light and turned towards the pod where your family lived, smiling at those you considered acquaintances and friends. Tsireya, Ronal and Tonowari’s eleven-year-old daughter, approached you with a bounce in her step and you grinned at her.

“Done for the day? Already?” she asked, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling you into dancing with her, much to a passing Na’vi’s amusement. “Sa’nu must be feeling kindly today.”

You laughed, spinning the pre-teen under your arm. “Your sa’nok had no choice, unfortunately,” you tell her. “My own requested the pleasure of my company.” The little girl’s smile faded somewhat, having an idea what that meant because she was getting to the age where she had started to observe the behaviors of those around her and had seen the way your own parents diminished you in comparison to your older sisters. “I’ll be fine,” you assured her, pretty sure you were lying to Tsireya’s face, pushing a curl of her hair back from her eyes like you wished your older sisters would do for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘eve.” You moved past her and kept on walking, straightening your spine, smile fading away and your face becoming a blank mask as you prepared for whatever your parents had prepared for you, interrupting your time of learning with Ronal, which you coveted greatly. You took your fear for whatever was about to happen and you shoved it down into the pit of your stomach, trying to ignore the feel of it settling like a stone in your belly. You were strong, you were dedicated, you were talented, and maybe one day you could become Olo’zeykoyu, just as Ronal had hinted. She believed in you. She thought highly of you. Whatever was about to happen… you’d make her proud. Her and her mate both.

Stepping into your family mauri pod, you found your mother kneeling at the cook table, serving a drink to your father and another male Na’vi whose scarred back was facing you. You paused, instantly recognizing Ìtxän Te Atxzìtx Kxawun’iyan from his stylish topknot bun, the set of his broad shoulders, the marred webbing of skin on the left side of his ribs, and his shortened tail.

“You’re home ma’ite. Wonderful,” your mother greeted with uncharacteristic warmness and a smile that read false, false, false! “You have a visitor. Come say hello.”

There it was.

The commanding edge to your mother’s tone that promised emotional anguish if you disobeyed.

Ìtxän turned and smiled at you, giving you the formal greeting, hand sweeping from his forehead. “ Oel ngati tse’a,” his voice was warm.

Kind.

The way he smiled at you held hope and promise…

And you felt nothing for him.

You dutifully greeted him formally back, forcing a small smile upon your lips though you really didn’t feel like smiling. You crossed the mauri pod on legs that felt like they had something heavy weighing them down to sit across the round table from your mother, between your father and your visitor and that’s when you saw it.

The traditional Metkayinan courting gift.

You were old enough to start thinking about courting, having turned eighteen a couple of moon cycles prior to this moment and finished with most of your rites. You just had never really thought about courting, before.

Ìtxän had woven together thick fronds that he had gathered himself into a basket large enough to fill with food to feed at least three or four Na’vi. Once finished, he had had to catch, kill, gather, and prepare a meal for his intended mate, their parents and himself as a means of proving he would make an excellent provider. Once everything was ready, he had had to present it to his intended’s parents for inspection and if they approved, it would be presented to you for approval. The more elaborate the meal, the more serious the proposal to court. Usually. The fact that Ìtxän was trying to present one to you… left you feeling unbalanced. You didn’t have anything against him but you didn’t really know him. You’d barely spoken to him other than greeting him in passing or when he needed wounds looked after. Yes, you had been right by Ronal’s side when he had had a chunk taken out of him and some of his tail removed by an akula, assisting in keeping him alive and making sure he healed properly a year or so before. But other than that, neither of you had ever sought the other out. You hadn’t even realized he was interested in you.

Your father began to unpack the basket.

It wasn’t lost on you that the main dish was akula steaks and your father chuckled at that. It was prepared very elaborately, marinated with a thick dark sauce and many spices, garnished with small leafy greens. There was also a large bowl of fruit, a bowl of stalk-like vegetables more commonly known as Fire Tails due to their spicy flavor all by themselves and also happened to be a favorite of yours. To finish it off, there were small bread rolls and, last but not least, a jar of honey the size of your fist.

You and your parents both froze, seeing that innocent little jar of amber. Not because it meant something bad. Oh, no. It meant Ìtxän was pushing forward the ultimate symbol of intending to make you his mate one day.

Honey from a Paska’sngap hive was difficult to come by as the bees — which were half the size of an adult Na’vi’s skull — were harmless by themselves and usually didn’t attack unless it felt threatened. An individual bee could sting up to three times before it died and each sting would release a bit of toxin which would take about a day or two to recover from after their stingers were removed from your skin. And typically, a Na’vi could survive a handful of stings but multiple stings from a dozen or more Paska’sngap’s could result in enough toxin in their bloodstream to act as a paralytic so that bigger creatures could be able to eat the helpless Na’vi. Even more stings than that – say, if the whole hive stung you – that much toxin could stop your heart. Foraging for honeycombs was usually a test of endurance, skill and speed as the bees could swarm in defense of their home and easily overpower any being. The fact that Ìtxän had accumulated so much of the sweetest honeycombs anyone in the clan had ever tasted…

You looked up at Ìtxän who was smiling at you so brightly and hopefully… and still felt nothing.

Your parents laid out the dishes and your mother looked up at you expectantly when you didn’t move. “Well, ma’ite?” She prompted and you swore you could hear her teeth grinding. You looked from the delicious food spread out in front of you and you had to admit, it looked wondrous with all of the hard work he put into it but you couldn’t lie. Not about this. Sitting back on your knees, you lowered your head into a respectful bow towards Ìtxän, eyes lowered, ears twitched back because you knew your parents were about to be furious with you. “I formally apologize Ìtxän Te Atxzìtx Kxawun’iyan but I cannot and do not accept.” Your mother, predictably, hissed loudly as you scrambled to your feet and away from the table, your father looking severely disappointed with you, scowling harshly. “Why not?” she snarled. “I don’t know him!” You shouted right back, tail lashing. You glanced at Ìtxän, voice lowering as you repeated softly, “I don’t know you. I didn’t even know you were interested in me. And then… this…” You waved your hand at the meal on the table and stared at him. You shook your head. “I can’t… I…” You turned away and darted out of your family mauri pod, ignoring your mother’s calls, pumping your legs and running down the bouncy walkway as fast as you could, dodging people just barely enough to not crash into them until you could dive out into the water and swim. An ilu you preferred and called Ìstaw approached you and you quickly grabbed hold, making tsaheylu and bonding with him so you could get away even faster. Together, you and the ilu swam to what you liked to consider your secret cave, breaking the surface of the water and looking around the grotto. “Thank you, Ìstaw,” you smiled gratefully, breaking the bond and hauling yourself up onto the stone lip. Turning back to see him still watching you, you reached and rubbed his head gently with a smile, telling him, “I’ll swim back on my own when I’m ready.” The ilu bowed its head and returned the way it came, disappearing from view. With a sigh, you took in your secret cave and felt yourself relax, being away from your parents and their expectations. The bioluminescent flora growing over the roof of the cavern was beautiful and pink, glowing bright, along with the hole showing you a small circle of the sky and giving you ample light to see. With it being high-tide, the water lapped at the stone lip gently, spilling a little bit of water up and over with every slow wave and hiding the lowered entrance to the grotto. With the lapping water in mind, over the years, you had built yourself a sleeping pad up and off of the ground, padding it with layers of moss and blankets you had woven together to make it quite comfortable. You had trinkets, like a collection of shells, a couple of handmade instruments, and spare ingredients and tools you needed for your craft in healing. You also had some freshwater casks and fishing gear so you could feed yourself if you wanted to stay for a night or two. The perfect little getaway when your family’s overbearing attitudes and expectations got too much. Slumping down onto the sleeping pad which was big enough for you to stretch out and still have some room, you felt your emotions rise up and overwhelm you. How dare your parents spring this courting request upon you?! How dare Ìtxän?! And why had they bothered with him? Why had they been so eager? Your sisters were single and they were “better” in your parents’ eyes so shouldn’t they have wanted someone to come courting them first? Unless they figured if you left the mauri pod, your sisters would have better chances. Or they just wanted you out of the way. And this thought made you cry. Did they really hate you so much? Your emotions poured out of you and you cried and cried until you exhausted yourself, falling asleep upon your sleeping mat, curling in on yourself, tail pulled tightly into the backs of your thighs and you didn’t dream. Thankfully, you didn’t dream. 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Waking slowly with warmth trickling through your limbs, you felt groggy and disoriented and unable to shake the fuzzy plant fibers from your mind. You were cognizant enough to realize you felt feverish and achy. Sitting up slowly, a wave of dizziness took hold of you and you flopped back down. Your belly, or maybe right below that, was clenching against the emptiness you felt inside of yourself.

Ohhh…

Oh, you felt… need… carnal need.

You had started your first heat?

“Oh no,” you moaned in self-pity.

From the conversations you had overheard your mother have with your sisters, you weren’t supposed to start having your heat cycles until you began to indulge in sexual pleasure with someone – and you hadn’t. You were dedicated to learning how to be the best zeykoyu you could be… and spoil yourself with the delectation of Ronal’s company. If you took care of yourself on occasion in the dead of the night or here in your secret cave, you did it by yourself with no one for company but your thoughts and imagination. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the exacerbating warmth unfurling beneath your belly, that bubbling heat sending out the signal throughout your limbs that you needed a partner to take care of you in the most lascivious of ways possible. A nonexistent partner because you weren’t interested in anyone…

Anyone obtainable, that is.

While Na’vi were inherently sexual beings and it wasn’t entirely unheard of that some mated couples took on a third, you were nothing but her student and while Tonowari – her mate, her partner, the love of her life, the father of her children, you reminded yourself — was very handsome, and kind and wonderful, there was something about Ronal that just called to you even more. Appealed to you more. She was, in a way, even fiercer than her husband, almost frighteningly so. But she was also graceful and beautiful and strong and wise and…

Oh… Eywa, you had it so bad for her.

Not saying there was anything wrong with all of those strong muscles and that filthy smirk you’d seen him shoot Ronal once or twice before they suddenly disappeared for an hour or so, coming back to smell strongly of musk.

Oh… and just the thought of him being able to pick you up easily and manhandle you however he saw fit?

And then your mind’s eye drifted down to his tewng, wondering exactly what he had been endowed with. Probably something very enticing if Ronal shirked her duties for a bit every so often for a moment of pleasure with her mate.

You began to tremble as a wave of lust washed over you like a gentle wave.

Trying to focus on what you had been taught by Ronal and what you had heard about these symptoms from other sexually active women in the clan, you took stock of the heat that was prickling beneath your skin, an itch you couldn’t seem to scratch as you writhed upon your sleeping mat. A near dizzying surge of warmth pulsed from your core and you finally registered the wetness seeping from that place between your legs, preparing you to be taken and pleasured and fucked. You needed your clothing off and struggled with shaking fingers to untie your necklace and your Tewng, succeeded after a few stuttered curses and tears leaking from your blue eyes.

“Ohhh,” you whined, throwing your clothing away and curling up tighter into a ball as your body wracked with desperate need. “This can’t be happening.”

Behind the curve of your naked back while you trembled, with the tide going out, you didn’t notice Ronal appear with the ilu you named Ìstaw at the visible mouth of the grotto, which allowed air into the cave twice a day. You didn’t see her lift her tattooed face and scent the air and understanding wash over her as her pupils dilated. You didn’t hear her thank the ilu, nor when she disconnected her queue, sending him away to find her mate and slowly approaching you through the waves. You did hear the water “sploosh” off of her body as she hauled herself up onto the stone lip and came to sit at your side, the sea water dripping off her and onto your overheated skin not doing much to cool the fire burning within you.

“Oh, Ma’numeyu,” Ronal cooed gently, gently looking over you and brushing away the curls from your turquoise face. “When did this start?”

Tears welled up in your blue eyes and you whimpered, “It shouldn’t have started at all, Ma’tsahìk. I haven’t… I never — not with someone!” A harsher shiver wracked through your body and you trembled visibly like you were wracked with sickness, your muscles tightening and releasing spasmodically. “It hurts… Ronal. Is it supposed to hurt?”

You’ve never used her given name before but the clawing need inside of you, the heat burning your body from the inside out, you absently hoped she could forgive you when all was said and done. The tattooed woman gently forced you onto your back, her hands resting upon your sweat damp brow and the naked curve of your mons, just above where you ached the most. You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your throat and screwed your eyes up tightly. You didn’t want to see any pity for your predicament, any disappointment, if she… for whatever reason… maybe thought you were lying.

“Oh, paskalin,” the warmth in her tone made you look hesitantly up at her, “this is a gift from Ewya to put us all on the path together that she wants from us. Ma’muntxatan and I were going to speak with you later today… but Eywa pushed us to this, by giving you this gift and having us show you in a different way that we can take care of you.”

Us?

Together?

She and her husband…

She couldn’t mean… could she?

“May I touch you paskalin?” She asked gently. “Touch will ease the fire within you.”

Oh, Eywa, yes. Please.

Ronal laughed. Oh, had you said that out loud? You flushed, face getting a touch hotter, if that was possible. Then you were distracted by a pretty mouth caressing your own chastely and delicate hands with calloused fingertips gently sliding over your heated flesh. A wanton moan bounced off the grotto walls. “Yes, paskalin, let it out. Tell me your needs and I will fix it.”

“Please,” you begged. “Kiss me some more. Touch me some more. Anything. Everything. Please… just let it be you, Ma’tsahìk.”

The older woman hummed and slid onto the sleeping mat you had created, kneeling between your thighs and reaching up to remove her necklace. Her breasts were large for a Na’vi and her hardened nipples were a darker shade than her beautiful turquoise skin. And it was a sight to behold. You whined and reached for her eagerly, arms trembling. With a predatory look, she swooped in and kissed you hungrily, one arm holding herself up, the other sneakily cupping one of your own breasts, her thumb playing with your nipple, swallowing your moan of approval. She tasted sweet, of fruit and honey, and you could easily see yourself get addicted to her flavor.

Pulling back to breathe, Ronal moved down to your neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling your flesh as she played with you breast, humming in approval as you slid a hand down her back, fingers digging into the swell of her backside and shifting your hips to find you grinding against her knee. You released a whimper.

“Mawey, paskalin,” she teased, raking her fangs against a forming bruise upon your throat. “Trust me to take care of you.”

Her mouth found your neglected breast.

You couldn’t help but let out a whine as the tattooed woman sucked on your sensitive nipple, the pleasure causing your core to clench harder around nothing. Oh, how you needed it. Needed her. But she promised she would take care of you. As if reading your mind, her lips finally descended from your breast down your belly, licking and sucking at your hips, her fingers holding you down to prevent you squirming. Your eagerness for her attentions caused her to hum in glee. Finally, she came to the juncture of your legs. “Fuck,” Ronal breathed, surprising you with her foul language as her eyelids fluttered shut as her nostrils flares. “Oh, paskalin. You are so slick for me. Smell so sweet.”

You can’t help but nod almost frantically, hips faux fighting her strong grip, wanting to rock up against her face. “For you, yes, yes, yes,” you admit with a whining chant. “It’s always been you. Admire you. Adore you. Want you!” She smirked at that.

“Then you shall have me,” the older woman vowed. She finally pressed her face forward.

A tongue surprisingly broad swept up the lips of your vulva before it poked between them and found your clit, lightly stroking and making you nearly scream out a curse, her hands struggling to hold your hips as you arched into the touch that caused lightning to zap through you.

It didn’t register when a second set of hands, much larger than the ones before, suddenly held your hips down much firmer. You were too swept up in the feel of that tongue dipping and dancing between your folds, alternating between licks and gently prodding against your nub. And when two delicate fingers pressed into you, you choked on your moans and gasps, absently clasping onto the thick forearms to help ground yourself just a little. Ronal continued to feast upon you, withdrawing her fingers to slide her tongue into your depths. Where her fingers failed, her tongue found a spot that made you mewl and moan worse than before and that coil inside you wound tight.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please,” you sobbed, screaming out as a gentle pinch to your clit and her tongue pressing on that spongy spot inside you had your first orgasm of the day crash through you like a furious Akula. “RONAL!”

The older woman lapped at you like a hungry kitten, easing you through your afterglow with a smirk adorning her face that you only saw after you opened your eyes.

Tonowari stared down at you with a heated smirk as he left over his wife’s back to hold you down to your sleeping mat. “My turn,” he purred. Ronal slid over one of your thighs and laid down with her back to the cavern wall as her mate scooped you up easily and took your place on the bedding, lying back as you had been doing and dexterously adjusting you into a kneeling position above his chin. “Now sit, paskalin. It’s my turn to feast.”

Glancing at Ronal, she just smirked at you. “You are in for a treat,” she promised with a knowing smirk.

With one of his large, warm hands wrapped around one of our thighs, Tonowari cupped your backside with the other to support your weight and pulled you down onto his hungry mouth. Immediately, his tongue darted out to lick a stripe from your sensitive entrance to your clit, causing a high-pitched squeal to rip itself from your throat which nearly smothered his low moan.

Ronal nearly cackled in glee, questioning her mate, “She is divine, is she not, Muntxatan? She is even sweeter when she cums.” A hum of agreement was the only response before he truly began to feast upon your flesh.

Tonowari ate at your pussy like a man starved, voracious in his appetite, nose massaging at your clit while his tongue worked tirelessly inside of you, his arms preventing you from rocking your hips more than just lightly. You couldn’t help the movement as his experience coiled you tightly quickly, the cries and moans endlessly pouring from you as he quickly dragged you closer to your second orgasm. His tongue was even longer than his wife’s, thicker too and it wasn’t long before he coaxed you through a second orgasm, his name a stuttering scream. “T’no’ri!” It was a garbled mess but the intensity of two orgasms in less than an hour had you slurring and incoherent once more, shaking like a leaf in a storm, muscles twitching and spasming until it plateaued into bliss that left you feeling like boneless jelly.

Luckily, his wife was there to help ease you off of her husband’s face and manipulated your body to straddle his thighs.

“Oh,” you whined, seeing that at some point between you mounting his mouth and now, his tewng had disappeared and he was even more endowed than you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine. You should have realized, though, as the male was massive all-over, he would have a thick, long cock as well, slightly darker turquoise than his skin, almost rivaling Ronal’s nipples in shade and the stripes were raised and bumpy with little ridges and nodules.

Ronal smirked up at you and turned, kissing her husband’s messy face with her own.

“Say you want this paskalin,” Tonowari rumbled out, voice a deep purr that sent shovers down your spine.

You nodded with a whine, “Yes, please. Eywa, oh please.”

He guided you down slowly onto his shaft, the slick from your previous orgasms aiding his insertion, the achiness of your heat finally subsiding despite the pleasure he and Ronal had coaxed out of you.

You whined, feeling yourself stretch around his girth as you sank him in deeper and deeper inside of your body. Beside you, Ronal had made tsaheylu with her mat so she could share in on the pleasure. And then Tonowari began to move, guiding your hips over his fat cock and beginning to fuck up into your greedy cunt, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Shifting his legs into a bent position, it shifted the angle inside of you, allowing him even deeper penetration. His hands lifted you up and then he thrust up into you as you slid back down upon his cock, the head of his shaft bullying close to your cervix and causing stars to burst behind your eyelids.

“Oh, ‘Wari, yes, please,” you begged, grinding down on him, chasing your pleasure as it built higher and higher up inside of you. His thrusts became harder, sloppier, causing your whole body to shake as that coil in your belly tightened once more. “Oh, Eywa, don’t stop,” you sobbed, reaching out to ground yourself and intertwined your fingers with Ronal’s. “Please don’t stop! Knot me! Please!”

“Do it, muntxatan,” Ronal encouraged, her hand working steadily at her own center as she watched hungrily.

“Mine!” Tonowari snarled, gripping your hips tightly and slamming you down onto his cock. You came with a scream, your gummy walls camping down upon your Olo’eyktan’s length like a vice. His knot had begun to swell and he forced you down onto him one final time with a roar, locking you in place as he came, shooting ropes upon ropes of seed deep into your depths while your greedy depths milked his dry and filled your womb with potent seed.

The pleasure was overwhelming.

“I think we wore her out,” Tonowari chuckled as you lay there, half conscious a moment or two or five later.

You were only partially aware of when his wife smacked his arm. “It’s her first heat, brought on by the will of Eywa,” she reminded him, kissing your shoulder. “You will be kind to our ‘eve. She was untouched before me.” He must have rumbled something in response because the last thing you heard before drifting off for a short nap was, “Give her a moment then we may feast upon her honey again.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 31 October 2023 Word Count: 5,357

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng @teyamsatan @lovefrommeelise

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar #atwow #avatar smut #na'vi reader #ronal avatar #tonowari #ronal x you #ronal x reader #ronal smut #tonowari x you #tonowari x reader #tonowari smut #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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hawkins-losers · 2 years

Text

I think we kissed but I forgot | Robin Buckley x Harrington!Reader

Summary: Robin wakes up in her crush’s bed

Word count: 1.5k

Request: Can I get ‘’I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you.’’ with Robin?

A/N: I’ve been working on this since September...kinda forgot about it

Holy shit, Robin slipped as she woke up in someone else's bed – naked. Not just someone's bed, Steve's sister's bed.

Your back was turned to her, soundly sleeping on your silk pillowcase. Your side of the covers had been kicked during the night and your sleep shirt had ridden up, uncovering your butt. Robin's cheeks went hot, trying to look away but failing. It was just as nice up close than all the times she had caught a glimpse of it in the P.E. changing rooms.

Robin was trying not to freak out, but how can you not freak out when you wake up naked next to the girl you had a crush on for over two years?

She'll forever remember the way you had tapped her shoulder in English class and sweetly asked if you could borrow a pen from her. The moment had been rom-com-esque, but Robin never had the guts to make a move or talk to you outside that class, too scared you would make fun of her or reject her – which sounded terrifying for a closeted band girl who has a hard time making friends.

Now that she had become best friends with Steve, you by default snaked your way into her life. Robin couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, she got to see you and talk to you in less anxiety inducing situations – like school. It also increased the possibilities of making a total fool of herself in front of you.

The odds turned in her favor because you took a liking into her. All of your secret moments in a crowded room were engraved in Robin's mind. The many fits of laughter and inside jokes she and you shared. Every time her name would fall from your tongue, everything would just stop. And when you tucked her hair behind her ear the other night, Robin combusted.

She was falling so deep and fast for you, which was making this confusing wake up so much more difficult for her.

How did she end up in that situation? It wasn't in Robin's habits to wake up in someone else's bed with barely any memories from the previous night. Perhaps it was the beer she had last night?

''Don't think too hard, it'll make your hangover worse.''

Your voice snapped Robin out of her mind, having not realized you were awake. Her eyes went into panic mode and she pulled the comforter over her bare chest, feeling body-shy. At least her panties were still on, shielding her intimate part.

There was a lazy smile on your face as you looked at her, the sunlight turning her shoulder golden. ''Good morning, beautiful.''

Robin's cheeks turned red, fighting a smile. No one had ever called her that.

Instead of saying 'good morning too', Robin's mouth began word-vomiting – and it wouldn't stop. ''I don't think morning is the appropriate term of time to be using as it's almost noon and noon is not part of morning. Not in that sense. It's part of lunch, but we can't say 'good lunch' because that's phonically wrong and only to be used when someone is going on lunch break or to get lunch-''

A soft laugh spilled from your lips, listening to her nervous rambling. ''What should I say, then?'' you asked, staring up into her blue eyes.

''I-I don't know...'' she stammered, a little tongue tied from your shameless flirting and the way you were looking at her.

''Are you getting all shy on me?'' You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping on your face. ''You weren't so shy last night when you were dancing on tables – that's where you lost your shirt.''

Sheer horror flashed in Robin's eyes. Oh god. This was worse than she thought... Dancing on tables and stripping was I-want-to-cralw-in-a-hole-and-die type of embarrassing. It's the kind of thing that earns you an ascend to being the main subject of town gossip for months.

You nudged your knee against hers, grinning. ''I'm joking, babe.''

The term of endearment sent a kaleidoscope in Robin's stomach. This was superior to 'beautiful' in her books. She wanted to scream into a pillow.

Instead, she wacked you in the face with it for making her think she had made a fool of herself last night. On a positive note, she won't have to explain to her mother why people are calling her 'sugar-tits' in the street.

You broke into laughter as the pillow hit you, catching it and tugging on it, causing Robin to lose balance and topple on top of you. The harsh movement had made her hair fall in her face. You reached out and brushed them off of her eyes, making eye contact as you did.

''You did, however, kiss me after I drunkenly serenaded you with Madonna's Crazy for You.''

''I kissed you?'' It sounded almost impossible.

You nodded, ghosting your fingers up and down Robin's ribcage, reminding her that she was still very naked now that she wasn't holding the comforter and that you could see her tits in all their glory. You didn't pay them any attention though.

''It was a very nice kiss.'' You glanced down at her lips, then back to her eyes, dying to taste her again.

Robin didn't remember – unfortunately.

''How- Did we..?'' She felt timid to ask, but she needed to know.

You shook your head, sensing Robin's train of thoughts. ''We didn't do anything.''

She breathed a sigh of relief. She already did not remember your first kiss, she didn't want to also not remember your first time. That would've been an utter bummer – and very sad.

''Just some making out and heavy petting,'' you continued, dragging your finger over her freckled thigh up to her knee, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She was so reactive to your touch. ''You even made your mark on me.'' You pulled at the collar of your shirt, revealing a small hickey.

Robin's cheeks turned red. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Her drunk-self was more daring – wilder – than sober Robin. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mark you like that. I don't even know how to give hickeys! I don't know what took me, I'm never drinking again, I-''

You put a finger over her lips to silence her rambling and shook your head. ''Don't apologize. I like it...a lot.''

''You do?''

You nodded, hooking the finger that was on Robin's lips under her chin, tilting it and capturing her lips into a kiss.

The delicate touch alone made Robin's brain fog, completely new to this kind of affection. She had kissed some boy during a game of spin the bottle when she was eleven, but it had been a peck. This kiss was...she didn't know how to describe it. All she knew was that it invaded all her senses and she could only focus on your mouth against hers, moving slowly and tenderly.

Then, your stomach started gurgling.

You pulled back, making Robin whine at the loss of contact, wishing you had kissed her longer. ''Do you want to go down and get breakfast?'' you asked, playing with the short hair at the back of her neck.

Robin shook her head.

''Are you not hungry?''

''No. It's not that. I...''

''What is it, then?''

The sweetness in your voice made her pliant and she hated it.

''I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you. This, kissing in bed with you, feels like a dream. I've wanted this for so long. I don't want this moment to end, I don't want us to end once we walk out that door.''

Robin hated being vulnerable and talking about her feelings and emotions. It gave people material to tease her, to make fun of her. She felt a little safer with you, though. Unlike most, she knew you wouldn't use her words against her.

However, confessing something of the sort still made her nervous.

''What if I told you I'll still want to kiss you after breakfast? Would you come down for breakfast, then?'' You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer. ''Perhaps we could come back here and cuddle.''

Robin's eyes lifted slowly, meeting yours. ''Y-yeah?''

You nodded. ''I don't have any plans today. I'm all yours – if you want me.''

''I want you. I mean, not like that. Well, maybe like that, but I don't think I'm ready for sex yet and-'' You chuckled at her rambling. Robin stopped, realizing you had caught what she meant and she could shut up now. ''Breakfast. Let's go make breakfast. But first, can I borrow some clothes? Steve and I are best friends, but I don't feel comfortable being naked in his presence.''

When you and Robin came down for breakfast, Steve was in the kitchen with a terrible bed head, emptying cans of beers from last night into the sink. He greeted you both, noticing but kindly not pointing out that Robin was wearing a shirt that wasn't hers and that she had slept over – not in the guest room.

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3 @cursedandromedablack @Slashersimpfor @savagejane1 @wh0reforbucknasty @eddiemunson-slut @slvdsjjk @hehehehannahthings @dreamdancers-world @eddiemunsonbby @notbeforelong @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog @tatespillows @alwayslexii @lilygreennn @milkiane @imahomeslice @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @horrorstreet @rmeddar123 @pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys @luvmybbies @chloepricesgrafitimarker @inluvweddiemunson @i-like-trains @kittenfrostt @simp-for-slasher @m-rae23 @kenzi-woycehoski @amberputh @sea040561

Robin Buckley taglist: @uhidklol-26 @prettyplant0 @ran-rap @eddiemvunsongf @batorchids222 @scarlet-kazuha @saphmoth @uhidklol-26 @you-makeme-crazier-blog @spongebob-in-the-upsidedown @swiftbyul @xenon54xe @tribute-101 @starstruckspring @whyamihere2673 @moonlight-imagines @p40l44 @moonlight-imagines @ofherscarlettwitchways @pastelbabygirl19 @eddiemunsonbby @bitterbyfletcher @i-could-be-lonely-with-you @chrisxevans-seb @robinbuckleyluvr @lol-lol—idk @satinselenite @missmaxmayfield @soph69420world @nancewheelersworld @nluvwitheddiemunson @psychoticauthor @amelies-a-simp @stephylovesmayahawke @ilovetaylorswift1 @stormyparker @thechoiceslookgrimm @yourfavdummy @amberputh @jonathanbyersbbg @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @eddiescvmslvt

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4

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gloryofroses19 · 2 years

Text

The Name Game

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

[y/n] liked to think she wasn’t the type to be easily swayed by a handsome man. Even if the handsome man was a tall sunkissed brunette outfitted in Navy service khakis and looking at her like she made the sunrise. A mustached man, who let a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach, a feat not known to her since her teenage years. How she ended up on the date with him was beyond her. But not all the wonders of the world can be answered so [y/n] pushed that question aside and instead asked another.

“So, what’s your real name Rooster Bradshaw?”

Rooster grinned as he leaned across the table towards [y/n]. “Who says Rooster isn’t my real name?”

And his grin grew as [y/n] didn’t back down and instead [y/n] met him halfway across the table with her own smile. “Because you’ve already told me you’re a pilot and I’ve learned from living here that you guys have nicknames.”

“The technical term is callsign.” Lieutenant Bradshaw enjoyed the way the setting sun’s ray crossed across her face giving her a warm glow but her accompanying laughter made him realize he liked that much more.

“It’s Bradley.” Sipping his beer, Bradley hoped to quell the flush, warming his body as he was enamored by the woman before him.

“Nice to meet you Bradley…” As [y/n] paused, Bradley watched with anticipation as mischief filled her smile, “Wait, so you're telling me that your parents named you Bradley Bradshaw?”

Bradley did nothing but nod as her [color] eyes began to twinkle with that he’d call glee. “I now understand why you use your callsign, Brad-Brad.”

Letting out an exaggerated gasp, Rooster placed a hand over his heart and feigned a wounded tone. “Hey, it’s a family name!”

“Yeah, it sure is, considering it’s your last name!” [y/n] continued to laugh as she became completely endeared by the pilot. She truly appreciated how, despite looking like an adonis and having a jet-setting career, he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously. The fact that he wasn’t above joking around and can keep up with her banter while maintaining his sincerity had [y/n] deciding that she would kiss him tonight if he made a move.

“Ok, I admit I walked right into that.” Rooster put his hands up in mock defense, “My dad was a bit of a jokester and my mom liked to be a troublemaker too.”

“They sound like a couple of silly gooses to me.”

As the comment left her rosy lips, the familiar warmth spread through Rooster again. He wasn’t oblivious to his good looks and how coupled with the Navy uniform, women looked at him. Even as a teenager, before he fully broadened out and got his six pack, he understood that he was handsome. Growing up, Rooster overheard people ask his mom why she didn’t date again and each time she said, “Goose Bradshaw was the only man for me, nobody else would compare”. When Rooster was old enough to understand, he had his own question. To his question of “how did you know?”, Carole Bradshaw looked at her son and said “you’ll just know”. Rooster found her answer wholly unhelpful and esoteric so he turned to his dad. Rooster often found himself softly saying “talk to me dad” when he needed guidance and support. But before he could even ask the question, [y/n] innocuous comment answered it for him because he finally knew.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bradley raised an eyebrow in question. “Is that the technical term?”

“Yes Bradley, it is.” [y/n] confirmed taking a sip of her beer as she tried to maintain her composure under his appreciative stare.

“Oh, we’re calling me Bradley now.” Rooster teased as he leaned back in his seat. His teasing smirk grew into a genuine smile as [y/n] leaned in as if to ask him where he was going.

“Well I’m not calling you Rooster now that I know you’re alter ego Brad-Brad but maybe next time.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?” Rooster couldn’t stop the cocky tone that overtook his voice as he leaned back in. A beautiful girl expressing her interest in him wasn’t anything new, however, a beautiful girl who felt like sunshine, laughter and the possibility of a future was and he would be damned if he missed his chance.

Upon realizing what she had said, [y/n] was left with an open mouth that she quickly closed as embarrassment ran through her body. Yes, he seemed clearly interested and not just in bedding her, but he did have a dangerous and peripatetic career. One that left him on naval ships and speeding aircrafts so maybe it was presumptuous to assume he’d want to see her again.

As if sensing her apprehension, Bradley Bradshaw bridged the gap and placed his palm over her hand while smiling at her with hope. “Cause I’d love a next time.”

Linking her fingers with his, [y/n] let the tension leave her body as she met his smile with one of her own. “Then it’s been decided.”

“I’m glad.” Giving her a final glance with his chocolate eyes, Rooster turned his gaze out the window and conspired a way for the night to not end.

Unbeknownst to Rooster, [y/n] shared the same feeling and was thrilled by his next question. “How about we take a walk on the beach [y/n] [y/n]?”

Laughing at his repetition, [y/n] squeezed his hand. “I’d love to but who says I won't push you into the ocean because of that unimaginative nickname Brad-Brad?”

Chuckling, Bradley kept their hands linked as led her out of the bar and into the warm night. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take ma’am.”

A/N: I can’t thank everyone enough for all the likes, comments and reblogs from my previous work, it is truly shocking. And as always, any feedback is welcomed!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader

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nahoney22 · 1 year

Note

How would Hunter or Echo react to a s/o that gets flustered so easily! Like they even get all shy and bashful just holding hands XD

What’s Got You Blushing Like That?

Hunter X GN!Reader

word count: 821 words.

There was nothing more endearing to Hunter than seeing how you react upon him holding your hand.

warnings: Very fluffy, gender neutral reader, hand holding. Short and sweet 🤍

Authors note: thank you for the request.

Originally wrote December 2022, Rewritten October 2023.

Life had recently taken a turn for the better. You found so much solace and security among the Batchers, with a sufficient number of credits to sustain yourself in your pockets. Not to mention that the relentless stream of missions from Cid momentarily subsided. More importantly, you had developed a profound love for the Sergeant, and it seemed that the sentiment was mutual.

While your relationship wasn't exactly a well-kept secret within the group, public displays of affection were kept to a minimum. It mainly consisted of stolen kisses in private, flirtatious messages exchanged covertly, and the occasional playful remark in passing.

However, all of that changed during a visit to the bustling local marketplace on the planet you all touched down on. The air was filled with lively music and the cheerful bantering of the crowd, with no sign of any Imperials in sight. The peacefulness of the moment almost made you want to burst into song. As you stood next to Wrecker and Omega, admiring some intriguing knick-knacks at one of the stalls, you felt something slip into your hand. It was undeniably someone else's hand.

You looked down at the intertwined fingers and followed the wrist to see Hunter standing beside you, wearing a warm smile as he gazed down at you. "Is everything alright?"

Your heart raced as you blinked rapidly, and your cheeks ignited. "U-uh, yeah," you stammered, caught off guard.

He fixed his gaze on you with a pointed look and repeated, "Is everything alright?"

You could only blink in surprise once more, the sensation of his hand holding yours in public sent a thrill through you. Hunter had held your hand in private moments, but this public display of affection was unprecedented, especially in front of his sister and brothers. You quickly scanned the expressions of the others and it seemed that they hadn't picked up on it. "I'm... I'm fine," you finally managed to choke out. "Just fine."

Hunter raised an eyebrow, but wisely refrained from further comment, instead offering a reassuring squeeze of your hand as you moved on to the next stall where Echo and Crosshair were.

"Are you guys considering buying anything?" Hunter inquired, and you couldn't help but notice your heart rate increase, particularly when Crosshair leaned over his shoulder to look at both of you. His eyes flicked down to your intertwined hands, but he made no mention of it.

"I need a new scope for my rifle; it's starting to show some rust," Crosshair responded smoothly, his attention returning to the stall. Echo approached both of you and held up a small pouch. "I think this might come in handy for Omega," he noted, placing it in Hunter's outstretched hand. As Hunter inspected the pouch, your gaze remained fixed on Echo, who met your eyes and smiled knowingly.

Hunter felt your hand grow slightly sweaty against his, and he side-eyed you, a hint of smugness in his expression at your reaction. He knew you weren't uncomfortable; otherwise, you would have said so. Instead, he could tell you were flustered.

"She'll appreciate it. Thanks, Echo," Hunter handed the pouch back to his teammate and playfully nudged your shoulder. "Want to take a walk somewhere, cyare?" He said audibly, using the term of endearment in front of Echo and now Tech, who had arrived with his own purchases.

Words failed you as you tried to compose a coherent sentence, your cheeks ablaze. Hunter led you away from the group, finding a quiet spot where the two of you could enjoy each other's company a bit more.

Hunter's voice was soft as he turned to you, his gaze equally tender. "So," he said, "what's got you blushing like that?"

You couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by your own reaction. "I wasn't aware you wanted to do that in public," you admitted, a mixture of surprise and delight dancing in your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, turning to face you as you both came to a stop. "Hold your hand?" he clarified.

You nodded, and he chuckled, raising his free hand to gently caress your cheek, his thumb lightly tracing its contours. "I could kiss you too, if you'd like that," he said with a teasing purr, drawing closer, his eyes locked on yours. "Or would you be too flustered?" It was a playful remark, a hint of the intimacy he shared with you in private.

Once more, warmth tingled in your cheeks, and your ears flushed. "Hunter," you softly hummed, your bashfulness apparent in your eyes.

Seeing the adoration in your eyes, Hunter needed no further encouragement. He sealed the deal, his lips meeting yours. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he gently cradled the back of your neck, and you melted into the kiss, a smile tugging at your lips as you pressed against him.

You couldn't help but think that life was indeed, pretty good.

More Hunter Works

Masterlist 🤍

tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell @theroguesully @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway y @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @mylifeinthetardisforever @brynhildrmimi i @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @agenteliix @the-good-shittt @photogirl894 @s1st3r @buddee @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater

#nahoney22 writes #nahoney22 requests #Hunter bad batch #tbb hunter x you #bad batch Hunter #bad batch hunter x reader #bad batch Hunter x you #Hunter tbb #the bad batch

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your-next-daydream · 1 year

Note

Hi!

Can I request head canons with diavolo from obey me when his s/o doesn't think they have any part in ruling the devildom and it's *just* his kingdom? A s/o who doesn't want to be "queen/king of the devildom" and just wants to be his s/o? Doesn't want the title?

Yes, I absolutely can do this. I always liked the trope where it was royalty x I'm a royal but not necessarily. Now I do have to say I have quite a few ideas for this and I have gotten a request similar, so I'm going to combine them.

Diavolo x not so royal reader

Gender neutral 👍🏻

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

Him and nearly everyone else were kinda shocked you didn't want to share his title or glory with him.

He'd have to explain that isn't exactly possible you are royalty by partnership, but he does his absolute best to keep you out of most affairs.

You can't say no to the parties and balls though, he will not let you unless you really don't want to.

Still refers to you with royalty titles as terms of endearment.

He will ask you to attend council meetings since your presence is required. He just lets you sit beside him and hold his hand under the table when he isn't speaking.

Since you insisted on not being publicly announced as a royal he only had a tiny coronation with himself, the angels, and the brothers. Because he just wanted to see the matching crown upon your head. Who can deny him his cute wants?

He dances with you around the whole castle wether it's actual ball dancing or just dancing to what he calls "M/C's funny human music"

Barbatos constantly gets on both of your cases for either sneaking out or doing stuff not befit for royals.

His usual polite smile was very strained when he caught you and his lord having a paintball fight in the ballroom.

"do either of you want to explain what's going on here?"

You both came to a standstill hearing the butlers voice over your head sets. Peaking out from your hiding place you saw Barbatos by the door you swore was locked with his arms loosely crossed. Across the room from you, you could see Diavolo peaking his head out from under the staircase.

"Ah Barbatos yes I was simply testing the humans reflexes nothing more." Diavolo stood out from under the stairs swinging his paintball gun to rest on his shoulder. "Isn't that right my dear?"

You blinked at him for a couple of moments before standing as well clearing your throat. "Yes that is definitely what is going on at the moment. He wanted to make sure that I could respond quickly to physical things."

Raising a eyebrow Barbatos looked at you both knowingly. "Right of course that is what is happening, then do you want to explain why exactly you have chosen these small balls with paint in them? Instead of let's say small spells."

Sighing and taking his helmet off Diavolo looked at his butler knowing he'd been caught. "Alright we were just having a little bit of human worldly fun, we will clean the mess up that we have made and get back to our duties."

Barbatos turned to the door to walk out. "Oh no I will be cleaning the mess up myself," he snapped his fingers and all the mess started slowly disappearing. "Though you both will still be doing your duties just in separate offices instead of together like normal."

You huffed in annoyance. "Oh come on that's not fair!" You started removing your gear to hand to his out stretched hands as Diavolo was doing as well.

Placing a hand on your shoulder your beloved placed a kiss on your cheek. "No it is fair we caused some damages in our game and avoided important matters, I shall see you when we finish our tasks."

Meanwhile at the HOL

Lucifer sat at his desk smirking slightly. Because a few days prior both the demon Prince and the human had played a prank on him. Diavolo that morning had let it slip they'd having a paintball fight. "Well good keep Barbatos informed of matters that could hurt his master." He shrugged putting down his D.D.D letting out a chuckle.

Let me know if you liked it!

#obey me #imagine #one shot #oneshot #obey me shall we date #reader insert #x reader #diavolo obey me #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo #diavolo x reader #dia obey me #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader

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thinkingotherwise · 5 months

Note

Hi hello

NPC series fan here again, hehe. Hope you're having a great day✨

I've seen that there's already a new one in work, but I wanted to ask if requests for the series are still open, because I've recently finished 4.0 Fontaine archon quest and Silver is so very husband material I can't👉👈

Thank you in advance💕

Thank you for requesting again and I'm sorry that it took so much, I had quite a busy last few months and couldn't focus on writing. But it's finished, and as it’s here before the new year...

I'm wishing you and everyone else reading this Happy Zhongli Day and Happy New Year 🌌🥂🎊

As for the story I totally agree that he is so... have you seen the suit? surely made of husband material And just a little thing, because I can’t let Hoyo do that to us, some events from 4.2 are nonexistent, they didn’t happen. I don’t want to remember them, therefore they didn’t happen

Silver x Fontaine! Bubbly! reader

I'm a sucker for French terms of endearment Mon chéri - my dear Mon cœur - my heart / sweetheart

Your day off fell on a nice day with a little cloudy but sunny weather, you simply had to take advantage of it. You decided that while spending your afternoon with your overworked man, you might as well go out before the end of his shift. Because of that, you spent your late morning shopping to your heart's content and talking with a lot of people who appreciated your positive personality. When the clock was nearing dinner time you walked out of the Chioriya Boutique with a bag, now havier by the new purchase. Observing the nearest area while deciding where to go next you noticed the familiar black and golden dress and matching hat and immediately your eyes searched for the two attendants who never left Navia's side.

Your gaze fell upon your dark blue-haired husband and you marched up towards him humming to yourself. Coming closer and closer you noticed another two people they were having a conversation with. Seeing as it may be important you stopped and waited for them to finish.

Feeling the non-stop gaze of someone Melus and Silver looked around and when their eyes fell on you you grinned widely and waved at them. Melus nudged his colleague on the side and grinned teasingly while Silver tried to fight off the smile that came to his face whenever he saw you.

After a short moment when he collected himself, he turned back to the conversation. At the same time, you raised your chin up to the sky and started cloud gazing to pass the time. You continued on humming and softly swaying from side to side.

Finishing their talk with Traveler, Silver turned to his companions. "Demoiselle Navia, Melus, Traveler and Paimon, excuse me for a moment." He finished with a slight bow.

Navia looked at Melus questioningly knowing they noticed something before. He, in return, tilted his head in your direction pointing that his friend was taking a short break to see you.

Moving your gaze back forward, your eyes met your husband's, who was walking towards you. Seeing that, you smiled involuntarily and ran up to him. As soon as he noticed you running he opened his arms to let you jump into them and embrace you tightly.

The moment your body collided with his he hugged you tightly lifting you just enough so that your feet left the ground.

"Bonjour, mon cœur." "Bonjour, how is work going? Hope I didn't disturb you much."

Silver let you down and took hold of your hand. In response, you tightened the hold momentarily.

"Don't worry, you didn't disturb. I told you previously that I'll always acknowledge you as soon as an opportunity presents itself." You hummed in response happily swinging your hand that held his.

"As for work, it was fine, not too much trouble today. Now I want to know where did you come from, were you shopping?"

He asked eyeing the bag that you held in your hand, while the other one was holding his. You started nodding your head.

"Yes, I went on a little shopping spree, I found some things that got my attention. Oh! I also have something for you but you'll see it later, for now, it's a surprise, mon chéri."

"A surprise, you just love to spoil me as much as I do you."

Silver then quickly turned to look at Demoiselle Navia and his friend. He sighed softly and sent you a small smile. Seeing that you let go of his hand and gently placed the shopping bag down next to you.

"I'll be seeing you soon."

You took off his hat with one hand while the other tilted his head down by the chin so you had easier access to place a sweet kiss on his forehead. You then quickly placed the hat back on top of his head and tucked in some of his stray hair that fell out of place.

"Don't work too much, mon chéri. I'll be waiting for you at the restaurant when your shift finishes."

Silver smiled at you widely nodding at your words.

"Don't miss me too much, mon cœur." He added kissing your cheek.

You picked up your bag and as your husband gazed at you lovingly you quickly came up with an idea and took advantage of his distracted self. Placing you free hand on his cheek you let it stay there for just a moment before snatching his sunglasses and placing them on you. You grinned at him and left a quick peck on his lips before running away.

He sighed deeply at your antics and was ready to go back to work without his signature glasses but as he turned towards Demoiselle, who observed the whole situation, she waved him off letting him off of work early.

Not thinking twice he bowed slightly and turned in the direction you ran off to. Then Silver started chasing after you quickly catching up and colliding into you while his arms trapped you within his embrace. Your laughter filled his ears and he joined in right after placing his hat on your head.

#everyone deserves attention #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin npc x reader #genshin silver #silver x reader

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ssahotstuff · 1 year

Text

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Virgin/Innocent reader

Part 3

Part 2 can be found here

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, first time riding, cursing, Haley being an asshole, I think that’s it!

Word Count: 3.9 k

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was Aaron's secure grip around you, his head buried into your neck, his breathing tickling you slightly, causing you to giggle as you were pulled from slumber. Aaron woke up right after this, being such a light sleeper, immediately cozying closer into you.

"So warm," he cooed, his hips pressing into your bare ass. His hand reached over you, toying with your nipple; you could feel him growing hard at a rapid pace. You began grinding against him as he kissed your neck, his hands exploring your body like it was the first time he'd ever touched you.

"I want you, Aaron," you sighed, rolling over to face him. He gave you an eager nod, his eyes still hazy from sleep. He thought for a moment about what would work best before he laid down and patted his lap, inviting you to straddle him.

"We'll go nice and slow, no need to be in a hurry. Raise up a little, there you go," he instructed, putting you at the right angle to sink down on him at your own pace. He held his cock steady at the base for you as you slowly began to feel him press into you, just the tip at first until you felt comfortable enough to take a bit more of him. His hand held yours tight, his chestnut eyes watching your every move.

"You're doing so good baby, such a good girl," you nearly melted at the term of endearment, feeling a bit braver than before. You continued easing him in, Aaron squeezing your hand for dear life as you clenched around him, making his mouth go dry and a thin sheen of sweat to manifest on his brow. You felt like a dream to him, something like an otherworldly experience.

"You're so big, Aaron. I have no idea how you fit," you giggled, and Aaron hissed at the heavenly vibration it sent through his already throbbing cock.

"Like a glove, sweetheart. You take me so well," he replied as he bottomed out inside of you, letting out a deep breath as you let yourself get adjusted to him. He could spend the rest of the morning just like this, tucked inside of you, looking at your naked body in all of its glory. When you were ready, you moved your hands to his chest and began to move your hips, moving up and down at the slowest pace possible.

Aaron thought you going slow would give him a bit more self control, but he couldn't have been more wrong. The more you got into it, found your tempo, Aaron could only lay back and let you take control of him—he was too weak to do anything else. You were stunning to him, so willing to let him ruin you and turn you filthy. You loved every second of it, only yearning for more. Aaron's cock was gliding against your g-spot, causing your breathing to go shallow, your heart rate to speed up as you went a bit faster, earning a string of profanity from Aaron in response.

"So close, baby," you whimpered as Aaron used his hands to hold you up, slowly thrusting into you from below. The new sensation had you curling your toes, squeezing your eyes shut as you came nearer to your release.

"Let go, sweetheart. Give it over to me," he commanded, and who were you to disobey him? You came with a shudder, looking down at him in awe. You'd never felt anything so earth shattering, making your eyelids droopy as you completely surrendered yourself to him. He continued fucking you slowly, the sun shining through the curtains as you moaned his name like a mantra you started the day with.

Aaron was certain he wanted every morning to start exactly like this—your head tossed back in pleasure as he gave you the satisfaction you so desperately craved from him. He felt such a strong connection, a bond from teaching you everything sexually you knew so far, the two of you learning your body together in the most extraordinary way. Each time you opened yourself up to him was an opportunity for him to prove to you how exceptional he thought you were, and how happy he was that he didn't have to share you with anyone else.

The closer Aaron got to his orgasm, the deeper he tried to bury himself into you; you were eager to help, sinking down on him entirely as his hips went still and you took back over. Every muscle in Aaron's body was tense as you rocked back and forth on him, figuring out a new angle. Your mouth fell open and Aaron's smile grew wide as you came again, and it was then that he decided he needed to see you do it again before he even thought about finishing. He brought his hand to your center, his thick fingers circling your clit. Before Aaron went any further, he gathered your arousal on the tip of his finger, making sure that you were watching before he sucked it clean, humming contentedly to himself at your delicious taste.

"I'm addicted to you," he admitted, reattaching his fingers to your center. You immediately cried out in pleasure, riding him faster than you had before, bouncing happily on his cock as he struggled to keep his eyes open. The second he felt you reaching your high, he spilled into you with a groan, pulling you forward hastily so he could kiss you on the lips.

"I love you so much," you murmured against his mouth, leaning back so you could see the smile he wore. There was nothing quite like it, and you took a mental picture every time you got a glimpse of it.

"I love you more, sweet girl. Let's go shower and we'll go get Jack."

✨✨✨

You couldn't shake your nerves the entire drive to Haley's neighborhood—Aaron's old house, the one they'd shared together. He'd been the one to leave, which he didn't mind. Jack needed a home, and it was just as much Haley's as it was his. Besides, Aaron couldn't have remained living in that house after the divorce. It had seen too many secrets, too much deception, and he'd never be able to live with the knowledge of what had been happening right under his nose. He didn't know how Haley slept peacefully at night, but he left that up to her and whatever god she believed in.

Aaron was oblivious to your anxiety, but you couldn't blame him. He was too excited to see Jack, and so were you, but meeting Haley hadn't exactly been at the top of your to do list. As you pulled in the gate, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for whatever might happen, taking his hand as he led you to the front door.

To say she was shocked by your presence was an understatement. She greeted Aaron with a warm smile, which quickly turned into a scowl—Aaron made a face that you caught out of the corner of your eye but you simply smiled back at her until she returned it.

"Hi Haley, it's so nice to finally meet you," you extended your hand for her to shake and she begrudgingly took it, looking between you and Aaron to make sure she wasn't seeing things. You could tell you weren't wanted, that you'd disrupted the balance of her day by showing up, but you refused to give her anything but kindness.

"Hi—I'm sorry, I just— Aaron didn't tell me he was bringing you," she said flatly, but before Aaron could speak up, Jack came running up behind her, an eager smile on his face at the sight of his dad. He greeted him and then you, giving you both a hug before standing between the two of you on the small porch, his arm wrapped around Aaron's leg.

"You know the drill. Back by Sunday unless you get a case," she told Aaron, who was immediately displeased by this. Jack usually stayed with you if he had to leave, and Haley knew that. Instead of saying anything, Aaron nodded, shooting you an apologetic look before he took Jack's hand and led him to the car.

"We're going to pick up lunch and take it to the park," Aaron told Jack as he placed him in his car seat, buckling him up as you climbed in the car, shooting Haley one last friendly wave before she went back inside. She simply crossed her arms over her chest before turning sharply on her heel, disappearing into the house. You'd expected as much, being the new woman, but she'd been so blatantly disrespectful from the moment you arrived, and Aaron didn't say a single word. You couldn't now; Jack was around— it would simply have to wait until another day, and by then, you weren't sure it would even matter anymore.

Aaron could sense the drastic shifting of your mood despite the smile you wore as you chatted with Jack about his week at school, but he knew now wasn't the time for the conversation you needed to have. Haley was obviously going to give him issues over you for whatever reason, and it was something he hadn't prepared himself for. He took your hand across the console, giving you a reassuring squeeze, but you continued your conversation with Jack as if nothing was wrong. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the quality time he got with his child.

You got lunch at Jack's favorite pizza place and went straight to the park outside of Aaron's neighborhood. When you arrived, Aaron grabbed a blanket from the back and Jack took off to choose a spot to eat, opting for the middle of the clearing, right in front of all of the playground equipment. Throughout lunch, he talked about any and everything, telling Aaron about the new Spider Man movie that was coming to theaters, and telling you about how he made you a picture at school, which immediately piqued your interest.

"That's very sweet, Jack! What kind of picture is it?"

He explained in great detail that it was a giant garden, full of bright, colorful flowers. He proudly told you he used every color in the box, explaining that he'd give it to his dad for you when Aaron took him home. That's when Aaron suggested you could just ride with him and get it yourself, winking at you from across the blanket. You shot him back a sweet smile, but he knew there was a storm brewing behind your beautiful eyes, and that Haley had really crushed your spirits. He waited until Jack took off to play before he said anything, scooting closer to you so he could wrap his arm around you.

"I know that probably didn't go like you expected," he began, but you shook your head, sighing deeply.

"No, her hating me is exactly what I expected," you told him, upset that she hadn't even given you a chance. You were better off before you met her, at least then she let Jack stay with you. Now she was punishing you by taking that time away from you both.

"It isn't fair to you and I'm sorry. I'll talk to her myself when we take Jack home. I'm not letting Haley take away my happiness again," if there was one thing that Aaron was sure of it was that he wasn't going to let his bitter ex ruin his first meaningful relationship. He'd made too many memories with you, had too much fun to let her take it all away now that he was already hopelessly in love with you.

"Haley isn't going to scare me away, Aaron. I just wish she made this a little easier."

Aaron had been convinced that when he first asked Haley about Jack staying with you that she'd been drunk, or under the influence of something, because she'd said yes a little too quickly. After she gave the okay, it happened regularly as long as Jack didn't have school, otherwise Aaron would take him home before he left on a case. Now that Haley was putting a stop to him being with you, it also cut out on Aaron's time with his son, which you didn't like one bit. Jack could've been waiting for his father—instead, his mother was making him come home early.

"We'll figure this out. Maybe she'll calm down a little after we talk to her," he said optimistically, but deep down, you weren't so sure anything would change Haley's mind about you.

✨✨✨

After tucking Jack in for the night, Aaron met you in the bedroom, hoping to alleviate some of your stress. You'd been tense all day, and now that the two of you had some privacy, he was locking the door, making his way to where you sat in bed waiting for him.

"Come here, sweet girl," he sat at the head of the bed, opening his arms up for you as you laid against him, your back against his chest. You were at the perfect angle for Aaron to litter your neck with kisses, a giggle escaping your lips at the tingling sensation his lips left on your skin.

"I want you to know something," you said as his arms wrapped around you, encompassing your body against him. It always made you feel safe, whole.

"Tell me," he encouraged, lips dancing along your jaw bone.

"She'll never get a fight out of me. If she's expecting me to be mean back to her, I won't do it," you knew the repercussions would be greater than the satisfaction of putting her in her place, because you'd always have to deal with her, as long as you were with Aaron.

"I know you won't. You're always the bigger person. Such a sweetheart—that's part of the reason I fell in love with you so quick," Aaron was a sucker for your gentle, sensitive aura, the way everyone around you beamed with the positivity you radiated. You were a polar opposite of him, and he thought that was one of your best qualities.

"Oh yeah? So it wasn't just for my good looks?" You teased, craning your neck to kiss him, his deep laugh rumbling through your body, vibrating against your lips.

"That could have something to do with it too, but it was mostly the way you make everything seem so bright all the time. There's never a dull moment with you," granted, the two of you usually stayed in unless you went out with his team, preferring nights curled up on the couch together rather than being out and about, but you still kept him entertained. The two of you could talk about anything, and you never failed to make him laugh.

"I'm only so chipper because I'm so happy to be around you," you told him, making his cheeks heat up; Aaron still found it hard to believe sometimes that someone actually loved him so much.

"I'd never want to change that," he said, using his hands to part your thighs, dragging your legs to rest over his. He loved how sexy you looked when you weren't even trying; he thought you looked best just like this, in one of his shirts and a pair of purple panties. His hand crept between your thighs, his fingers teasing your clothed center through the microscopic fabric of your underwear.

"You can't make a sound, do you understand? We've got to be so quiet, sweet girl," you had to be mindful of Jack so you didn't wake him up. You nodded, slipping your panties down your legs and getting situated once more. Aaron's fingers instantly collided with your center, his free hand coming up to cover your mouth. He kissed your cheek firmly, scanning your face to make sure you were okay; he felt you lovingly kiss his palm and decided to keep his hand where it was so he could keep you quiet.

Aaron had wondered long before he ever touched you if you would accept the more demanding, bossier side of him willingly or if he'd have to ease you into it. As far as he could tell, you were naturally submissive to him, eager to do anything he asked. He wasn't sure if it would always be this way—if you'd become comfortable in your body and decide you wanted to test the power dynamic, but until then, he'd let things continue how they were.

You were reeling at the idea of Aaron being more dominant with you. You loved his sweet, generous personality, but you knew that was a side of him reserved just for you. The people at his job got to see him broody and cut throat, something you would kill to experience. He was so intimidating, but in the best possible way; he could stop a room with one word, if he even had to open his mouth at all.

Aaron thought this was a perfect end to your less than pleasant day— letting you come over and over on his fingers while you wiggled against him, keeping your promise not to make a peep. He'd counted at least three orgasms in just a couple of minutes; it was impressive, but he knew you had more in you.

He let his hand leave your mouth and slip under your t-shirt, humming in delight when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. He rolled your stiff nipple between his fingers, deciding he would test the waters and see if he could get you to slip up and disobey him.

"So fucking wet, and it's all for me, isn't it, sweetheart?" He whispered into your ear, but you could only nod in response, your back arching and your legs shaking as you came. Aaron kissed your cheek, nuzzling into you, overcome with a feeling so indescribable that if he'd been standing, it would've brought him to his knees. He couldn't help himself, the words flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to react.

"You could ask me to do anything, be anything, and I'd do it for you."

He let his hand fall from your center as you turned around to face him, desperately needing to kiss him before you did anything else.

"I'd do the same for you."

To anyone else, it might've sounded like a promise made halfway in the heat of the moment while you were both drunk on each other. But to you, to Aaron, it was a vow to read one another like an open book. Aaron realized then how much he still had left to learn, so many things undiscovered fantasies just waiting to be revealed. He couldn't imagine anyone other than you fulfilling them, and he slept peacefully that night knowing you'd be exploring this uncharted territory together, no matter what.

@aaronhotchnersbbg07 @hausofwhores @mrs-ssa-aaron-hotchner @harrington-thedad @lex13cm @wheelsupkels s @criminallyobsessedcm @fireworksinthesky @rousethemouse @mojo366

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch smut #aaron hotchner au

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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 year

Text

drive me crazy

barista bucky x fem reader

words: 1.6k

warnings: lapslock, basically crack, mentions of sex / fucking / kinks, no actual smut tho rip

a/n: inspired by this djdjdnjdmd it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i finally decided to just post it bc it's funny to me hehe~ any and all mistakes are mine! feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

you're in desperate need of caffeine, dead on your feet after a long week of cranking out as many chapters for your new book as humanly possible to make sure you meet your deadline. so you find the closest cafe and wait patiently in the short line once you're inside. you notice the man taking orders is admittedly very handsome. it's a throw away thought, really, something you think pretty often about lots of people you see in public. he's definitely a sight for sore eyes, though.

when it's your turn to order, your mouth is already opening to greet the barista, but he beats you to it with a raspy, “hi there, doll.”

your already overworked, tired, useless brain comes to a screeching halt as you blink, mouth snapping shut. faintly, you hear him ask for your name as he reaches for a cup with one hand, an uncapped sharpie in the other, but the question bounces off the empty chambers of your mind, echoing hollowly.

“huh?” is your intelligent response.

his lips twitch like he wants to laugh, but instead he simply repeats, “may i have your name?”

“yeah,” you reply breathily, yet offer nothing else. he raises an eyebrow and you jolt with realization, stuttering out your name for him.

he writes it on the cup then asks for your order, which you also stutter through, embarrassment eating you up inside. you think you've just about managed to pull yourself together, making a mental note to never return to this cafe as you rummage through your bag for your wallet.

“is that all for today, darlin’?” he asks, sending you spiraling again.

“i—uh huh. yes. yeah.” you might just have to walk into oncoming traffic. “thank you,” you tack on belatedly.

he offers you a devastating smile. “you're welcome, doll.”

aaaand that's it. yep. this is the ideal moment where you burst into flames. or the ground opens up beneath your feet and swallows you whole. anything would be better than fumbling with your credit card to insert it into the reader like a clumsy idiot. as soon as the transaction clears you scurry off to the side and away from the barista’s presence.

jesus fucking christ.

what the hell is wrong with you? are you really that starved for affection that all it took to have your heart threatening to beat out of your chest was a fucking stranger calling you a term of endearment? you're really that easy?

the second your name is called and you've got your coffee in hand, you head straight for the exit. you can never show your face here ever again.

but then a week goes by and your every waking thought is haunted by the events that unfolded in that fucking cafe. your mind plays it on a constant loop, sometimes in slow motion to really pinpoint your shame. his deep, raspy voice still sends a shiver down your spine, just from the memory of it. and the way he smiled at you could only mean that he knew. he had to.

you don't have a single moment of peace as the days go by and you finally decide you've had enough. before you can even think it through all the way, you're entering the cafe you swore to never return to and approaching the counter with determined steps. it seems to be a slow day, only one other customer sitting at a table in a far corner. you're not sure if you're glad to see the same barista is behind the register, but you suppose it's for the best, since he's the one you have a bone to pick with anyway.

your hands land with a smack on the countertop, startling the man as you seethe, hissing out an accusatory, “you.”

he points a finger at himself. “me?”

“yes. you. what's your deal, huh?” you demand. his eyebrows furrow, but you press on. “who do you think you are, going around addressing people like that? who even uses doll anymore? do you have any idea what you've done?”

he scratches under his chin as he ponders. “uh… no? but i have a feeling you're gonna tell me.”

“you're damn skippy, i am!” you reply much too loudly. “i have a deadline,” you emphasize, “i'm supposed to be focusing on work, but all i can fucking think about is you calling me doll like it's totally normal and not making me a desperate, horny, weak little slut! do you realize i haven't written more than two sentences in the last week? only two! how am i supposed to get anything done now? should i tell you about my praise kink too so you can also use that against me? huh?!”

as your rant comes to an end, you become aware of a few things. first, you hear the lone customer scrambling to gather their belongings and racing out the door. second, you're halfway perched on the counter with one hand fisted in the barista’s shirt. and lastly, said barista is grinning in a way that makes you want to slap him silly.

“i guess that depends,” he responds after a minute, leaning ever closer to you, so close, in fact, that you can see the tiny flecks of brown in ridiculously blue eyes. “would you get more writing finished if i called you a good girl?”

an undefinable noise squeaks out of you. his grin widens.

gritting your teeth, you climb the rest of the way onto the counter, gearing up for another rant with, “you little shit—”

you're cut off by his finger pressing on your lips. you stop talking, but only because of the audacity.

“ah-ah, no. be quiet.”

and your rage builds even more. you're sure that if it was possible you'd be shooting fire out of your eyes.

“before you start yelling at me again, let me speak,” he says, and you just barely contain yourself. “had i known i ruffled your feathers this much i would've left my number on your cup. i regret that now, of course.”

“i’ll have you know my feathers are perfectly unruffled—”

“hush,” he interrupts, calm as can be. your body trembles as you hold back. “we both know that's a lie,” he says, pointedly glancing at where you're kneeling on the counter and your white-knuckled grip on his shirt. “so here's what's gonna happen. i'll fix you a drink, on my dime, and you’ll take it home with you and get back to work. like a good girl. and i'll leave my number on this cup so you can call me when you're finished so i can reward you properly. how's that sound?”

when you only stare back at him, knowing how crazed you must look and wondering if this is some kind of cosmic joke, he raises his eyebrows in a way that screams “well?”

“oh, am i allowed to talk now?” you sass.

he rests his palms on either side of you. “don't be a brat. answer my question.”

you take a deep breath to try and rein in your emotions. “fine. make the drink. but don't hold your fucking breath for a phone call from me.”

he smirks. “oh, is that right?”

“you haven't even scratched the surface of how bratty i can be,” you retort.

he hums, scanning your face. “guess i'll just have to fuck it out of you.”

you sneer. “you wish.”

“you know, i can't make that drink for you until you let go of me.”

with incredible restraint, you release his shirt from your grasp, but stay settled on the countertop. he gives you one last boyish grin and turns to start fixing up your drink.

you watch him silently, the reality of what just happened trickling into your conscience. to say you're mortified would be a severe understatement. the only thing you can do is stare blankly at the espresso machine as he works and you contemplate the pros and cons of moving to a different country and whether or not you could get away with some slight maiming.

you don't even notice him walking around to the other side of the counter until you feel his hands on your hips, sliding you backwards into his chest.

“as pretty as you look on your knees like this, you'll have to come down from there now,” he says lowly, his breath tickling your neck and making goosebumps appear.

you clear your throat, shifting to turn and scoot off the surface, avoiding eye contact.

“good girl,” he praises softly.

you lift your gaze to his, glaring daggers at him. he winks at you, holding out your drink and wiggling it a little.

“here you go, doll,” he says, his smile entering shit-eating territory.

you have half a mind to throw the damn thing in his face. however, you refrain. you force a smile and snatch it out of his hand.

“i hope you fucking choke.”

he laughs. “i'd much rather see you choke on my—”

“goodbye,” you yell, stomping out of the cafe.

once you're in your car you look to see if he actually left his number on the cup, and for reasons entirely unknown, he did. you grab your phone, opening a new text thread and typing out a message.

you: i hate you

asshole barista: you really don't.

you: shut the fuck up and tell me when your shift is over

you: we’re gonna see if you're all talk and no game like i suspect you are

asshole barista: i'll be delighted to prove you wrong, doll.

you: yeah we’ll fuckin see won't we

(he is, in fact, not all talk and no game.)

(you're pleasantly surprised.)

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes

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marvelmusing · 2 years

Text

The New Girl

Part of The Darkling Wears Prada AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aleksander Morozov is the Editor in Chief of Ravka’s leading fashion magazine. As his First Assistant, you feel very responsible for his new Second Assistant - Alina Starkov.

My Masterlist

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“Good afternoon, Aleksander Morozov’s office.”

You tuck the phone between the side of your face and your shoulder as you continue to type out an email to Nikolai.

“Go get lunch.”

You frown at the familiar voice, leaning forwards to look through the doorway to your left. As your eyes land on your boss, you ensure the puzzlement is shown clearly on your face. Aleksander stares back at you, his phone nestled in his hand, with his head tilted casually.

“I brought you your lunch twenty minutes ago.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Your own lunch, milaya.”

Your face warms, as it always does whenever he uses a term of endearment when addressing you. You shake your head.

“I can’t leave the new girl on her own to cover the phones.”

“I’ll cover them.” You breathe out a small laugh,

“You can’t answer your own phone.”

He rolls his eyes, a playful smile on his lips. You’ve been Aleksander’s assistant for several years, and the two of you had become firm friends over that time.

“Where’s Genya?” He asks.

“You sent her over to Calvin Klein.”

“When was that?”

You hum in thought, looking down at the time in the corner of your computer screen.

“An hour ago?”

“When she comes back, ask her to cover your desk and keep an eye on the new girl.”

“You’re not going to let this go are you?” You say with a half teasing sigh.

“You are not skipping lunch.” He states firmly.

“Alright, but Genya won’t be happy with you.” The corner of his mouth quirks.

“I find I can live with that.” You shake your head at him.

It isn’t long before Genya returns with two armfuls of Calvin Klein bags and boxes. She, rather ceremoniously, drops them in Aleksander’s office, to which he uses as an opportunity to tell her that she’ll be covering for you.

Genya doesn’t mind in the slightest. You know she’s been dying to give the new girl the rundown on all the employees and designers. You know Alina will be in safe hands with Genya, nevertheless, you’re still eager to give Alina all the advice you can before you leave.

“Okay so I created this list of extension numbers which you can use if you get stuck. If you need a minute to panic and find a number, just put them on hold.” Alina listens to your every word with rapt attention. You slide a laminated piece of paper in front of her, and she looks down at it. “There’s three columns: the number, the department, and the department heads.” She nods as you point out each column. “So, if someone rings and asks for David and you don’t know who David is…”

You trail off, hoping she’ll have picked up on it. Her eyes widen, and she looks down, her eyes flickering over the words frantically.

“Um.” There’s a pause, before she looks back at you. “Put them on hold?”

You nod with an encouraging smile.

“And then?”

“And then, look for David on this list.” Her finger trails along the page until her nail, painted a pretty pastel yellow, taps against David’s number.

“There you go.” She seems a little more reassured, but she still eyes the phone warily. “If in doubt, redirect it to Genya.”

“Anything else?” She asks, turning a pen over in her hands. You click your tongue in thought, running over as many possibilities as possible.

“Number one rule: never send a call directly to Mr Morozov.” You slide a notepad in front of her, and she leans her elbows on the desk. “If someone does ask for him, write down their name, and the reason why they’re calling. Then ring Mr Morozov and ask if he wants to speak to them.”

She begins to take some notes, her handwriting small and neat along the ruled lines of the paper. A stark contrast to the frantic scrawl you always adopt when speaking on the phone with someone.

“If he says yes, forward the call; if he says no, tell them to call back sometime next week.”

She nods, a cute frown wrinkling her forehead as she attempts to commit this knowledge to memory. You pick up your bag from the coat stand near the door, and slide on your jacket.

“I will be back in fifteen minutes, so don’t worry too much.”

“Half an hour, milaya.” Aleksander corrects you as he leans against the doorway. He nods towards your desk, “Genya.” She smiles at him. Then he turns to Alina. “Miss Starkova.”

Alina ducks her head, the pen still twirling between her fingers as she smiles rather shyly at him.

“Hello Mr Morozov.”

“Would anyone like anything getting while I’m out?” You ask, walking to your desk and picking up your mobile. After glancing at the time, you slide it into your pocket and look up at the room. Genya shakes her head.

“I’m good, thank you.” She lifts her large, refillable coffee flask, and you smile in acknowledgement. Your gaze moves to Aleksander.

“My usual, please.” You nod.

Then Alina.

“I’m okay thanks.”

“You’re sure? I’ll be passing a Starbucks or some other cafe if you want a drink?” She hesitates for another moment, but you don’t mind waiting.

“Just a Chai Tea Latte, if you don’t mind.” You nod with a smile.

“I’ll be off then.” You pull open the door, and turn back to the room. “See you in half an hour.”

Your eyes meet Aleksander’s as you say those last words, and the corner of his mouth quirks into an almost smirk. You narrow your eyes at him before you turn away and walk down the hallway towards the elevator.

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marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt

If you’d like to be added or removed from my tag list just ask!! Feel free to comment or reblog if you liked this!

#aleksander morozov #aleksander morozov x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #modern au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

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meekmedea · 3 months

Text

(Epilogue) - Fatum Faciendum Est

See AO3 for the fic

Even from the doorway, he could hear Pandora’s inquisitive voice as she chattered to her mother. At the age of 5, his daughter was curious about everything. An endearing trait at times, and at other times, Coriolanus almost wished that she was still a baby, for Pandora’s questions could get rather much.

Coriolanus didn’t understand why they were allowing Pandora to entertain notions of Santa Claus’ existence and other imaginary figures, but Clemensia had insisted. So he’d conceded, if just for Clemensia’s sake. Also, he’d never admit that it made it easier to purchase presents.

Stepping into the greenhouse, he followed the voices until he saw Clemensia taking afternoon tea with Pandora. “How are my two favourite ladies today?”

“Daddy!” A wide grin appeared on Pandora’s face as she hopped off her chair to run towards him. Her hands were stretched up toward him. “Up!”

Had he mentioned how demanding their daughter had become lately too? But he acquiesced to her demand, spinning her around to her giggles.

“And what do we say?” says Clemensia once Pandora is back on the ground.

“Thank you, Daddy!” She flashed him the same charming smile that was all Clemensia and turned back to face her mother. “Mama, I don’t want a new bike. Or a new doll. I want something else!”

“Oh? And what do you want?”

“A brother!” she says enthusiastically. “I want him to be this tall, with eyes like you, Mama. So we can match!–”

Clemensia coughed in surprise. Meanwhile, Coriolanus stood there and wondered if he should be insulted or not that his daughter didn’t want her hypothetical future sibling to have his eyes.

“– a sister would be okay too. I guess. But only if her hair is white like Daddy’s.”

“Blonde,” he corrects absentmindedly.

“Darling, that’s not how–” starts Clemensia.

“She can't have the same hair like me,” Pandora explains, like it was something that they should understand was of great importance to her. “So, can I?”

“I don’t think they’d get here on time, dear,” he says, trying to hide his amusement as he ruffles Pandora’s hair. “Perhaps for your birthday?”

“Really?” Her eyes widened at the idea, it was all too adorable.

“Coryo–” splutters Clemensia. That was a rather adorable shade of red on her cheeks.

He made a hum of agreement, focusing on Pandora. “Will you give your mother and me a moment alone?”

“Okay!”

They watched as she went deeper into the greenhouse – her dark curls bouncing with every step.

“Don’t go too far,” Clemensia calls after her. Once Pandora had turned the corner, she turned her attention back to him. “Why did you say that? Now you know she’ll be insistent on it.”

“But I thought you said that I should encourage her interests.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He feigned surprise. “It wasn’t?”

“Oh you…” She shook her head, exasperated.

“Would it truly be so awful to give her what she asked for?”

Clemensia raised an eyebrow. “You do realize the stringent criteria our daughter just gave us.”

“You’re avoiding the question, Clemmie.”

“And you’re not the one who has to carry the baby to term.”

Touché.

“But let’s say I humour you, how would you go about convincing me?”

He grinned, knowing that she wasn’t entirely against the idea. “I can be very persuasive when I want to.”

“Prove it.”

A demonstration? He could do that. Pulling their daughter’s previously occupied chair close to him, Coriolanus sat down and leaned in, his hand reaching to lift her chin to give him better access to her lips.

Alas, before he can do so, the moment is shattered with a cry of, “Mama! Come look!”

Expectedly, Clemensia’s head turns, causing the kiss to land on her cheek instead. Before he can try to get a proper kiss, she is up and following their daughter’s earlier footsteps. “Coming!”

After a second or two, when it was clear neither of them would be returning anytime soon, he sighed and got up, following after them.

Foiled by his own daughter…

Who’d have thought?

#fatum faciendum est #presidential era days?#post tbosas au #coriolanus x clemensia #coriolanus snow #clemensia dovecote #tbosas au #blurbs #epilogue #snowcote

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puddle-nerd · 8 months

Text

Menace (Part 1)

Summary: Jake’s tail likes to get him into trouble because it has a mind of its own. (Jake x Reader)

Part 2

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Prompt 4 (Spanking) for my submission for LunasKinktober2023

Na’vi Translation: Olo’eyktan — clan leader Paskalin — honey (term of endearment) Unilpay – alcoholic drink like moonshine (non-canon) Story Tags: No use of y/n, Female Reader, Spanking, Friends to Lovers, Neytiri Married Tsu’tey because we don't do cheating in this house, Brief Mention of Past Cheating by Someone Else, Miscommunication, Mild Dub-Con-ish if you squint, Use of “baby girl” and “good girl”, Proper communication, color system, Fingering, Idiots, They’re both idiots! Idiots in Love

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Jake Sully was an unabashed flirt. Jake Sully was an absolute menace. He had been a bit of a menace when he’d been human and wheelchair bound but after the final transfer through the eye of Eywa? Honestly, it had more than likely been an issue probably even before then but he’d only been in his Avat for a handful of hours before he’d been away learning how to be one of The People. The issue had been and still was that his tail always seemed to have a mind of its own.

You could tell a lot about what a Na’vi or an Avatar was thinking or feeling by learning the movements their tails and the way Jake’s twitched around you (although with those expressive ears, those lasciviously teasing smiles, and the tone he delivered certain words and phrases…); he was without a doubt an unrepentantly horrible flirt. He’d been that way back on Earth, too. Tommy, because you’d met the younger Sully first through university and induction into the Avatar program and he’d eventually introduced you to his older twin after the incident in Venezuela that left Jake in a chair, had quickly become embarrassed beyond belief whenever Jake turned his flirty behavior your way. And you shouldn’t have fed into him. You really shouldn’t have but if your ex hadn’t cheated… well Jake’s flirting had made the sting of your ex two-timing you for your uni class enemy all the more bearable.

And now, being only one of thirteen women and one of thirty-five remaining humans staying on Pandora after the near destruction of HomeTree, his flirty behavior was still welcome, most of the time, because he was the only one showing interest in you it seemed.

Most of the scientists were more focusing all of their attention upon the flora, the fauna, The People than making romantic gestures towards others, though there had been a few new relationships crop up. The techs and the pilots usually stuck more together, while the scientists devoted themselves more to their work than to fornicating with each other. Accidentally finding Trudy straddling Norm’s lap of all things one day had been a laugh around the labs for a solid month but the two of them surprisingly worked well together. And they had been the ones who had taken charge of raising Paz Socorro’s orphaned baby whom they had decided to use his middle name ‘Ethan’ instead of what the birth certificate labeled his first name as: Miles. The last Miles that had been on Pandora – well, Neytiri had killed the bastard and with good cause, too. You all just wished you knew who Ethan’s father had been as that space had been left blank.

One of Pandora’s great mysteries, you supposed.

“Jake, get control of your tail or I’m gonna cut it off!”

Menace.

You had been trying to structure the DNA strands of one of the flowers that Mo’at had once told you was great for healing until Jake’s tail had knocked over a glass tray of tubes behind you, wagging away like an overexcited puppy. At least he had the decency to look sheepish at the dirty look you shot him. “Sorry, Paskalin,” he called out, backing away from the mess. His Avatar body was too large now to successfully grab a human-sized broom and sweep up the shards leaving you to do it. You went to crouch over the pile you’d made a few minutes later only to feel that menace of a tail swat your backside. You looked up but he was studiously looking away from you, the corner of his mouth curled up.

“Go bother Neytiri or something,” you snapped, taking the pan of dirt and now useless glass and carrying it to the closest bin.

Jake’s good mood plummeted. He grumbled low in the back of his throat like a displeased feline. Your words had been a low blow, honestly, and you’re not sure why you’d chosen that to say to him. After the death of her father and her intended had been made Olo’eyktan, Neytiri and Tsu’tey had gone ahead with their official mating after most of the Sky People had been chased off planet despite her having been seemingly interested in Jake before. There had been a huge ceremony a week ago, Jake had begrudgingly recalled to you as you had not been invited. Lots of paints and new necklaces and intricately designed loincloths woven together specifically for their union. And he’d been introduced to the moonshine-like drink The People referred to as unilpay.

You tried not to shiver at the memories of that night. A drunken Jake had stumbled his huge blue body through your bedroom door at the witching hour after Neytiri and Tsu’tey’s wedding ceremony and nearly scared the absolute shit out of you. In vindictive retribution, you recalled he’d ended up knocking his large head against both your doorframe and your ceiling light fixture, mumbling incoherently in a broken hybrid of the Na’vi language and English before slumping heavily over your bed, nearly squishing you in the process. And that damn tail of his had wrapped itself possessively around your upper thigh, the dark tuft flicking lazily against the very thinly covered juncture of your thighs. At least you had had panties on to begin with. Not having expected Jake’s sudden appearance, you had taken care of your own needs earlier that night and hadn’t thought to air out your room. You (later that night) had also had a pretty fantastic dream that Jake had woken you in the middle of the night and fingered you to completion with two of his large, blue fingers, stretching you wider than your ex could have dreamed.

When Jake had woken that next morning, he had buried his head into the crook of your neck, moaning about how good you smelled, hand digging into the softness of your belly. His tail had tightened around your leg and flicked against the front of your panties some more until you pinched the tip of his ear so you could escape and avoid how aroused he had been making you. The Avatar had quickly let you go after that, letting you escape with an unreadable frown upon his features. He’d been swinging by the lab nearly daily after that and making even more of a menace of himself every time.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you said, seeing the unhappy look upon his face at the sting your words had caused.

“S’fine,” he mumbled, looking anywhere but you. “I’m gonna head out now.” He hardly ever cut his time short like this but you understood he was smarting at basically getting reminded that he’d been dumped and was now dealing with your shitty attitude and he needed to, metaphorically, lick his wounds. He turned to head out of the lab and his menace of a tail got in the final words, swatting your backside once more, this time a little harder, the sting in your backside causing your quim to tingle.

“Menace!” You called after his retreating back.

Shit.

You were going to need a cold shower.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Jake hadn’t come back for two days, which was unusual, but not unheard of. So, again, you hadn’t expected to see him so late that night and had been enjoying the solitary of your private bunk, lights off, headphones in, naked and sweating upon your rumpled bed as you watched the pornographic video upon your tablet, fingers stuffed up into your dripping pussy.

The acting was as terrible as any fuck film usually was but what made it one of your favorites was the fact that, if you squinted, the main male and female characters kinda looked like you and a human Jake with his Na’vi size since the male pornstar was so much bigger than the female he was spanking away. It was a kink of yours, wanting to feel that burn of a hand striking your plush, naked bottom until the skin was red and raw, his other hand pressed firmly between your shoulder blades. (You hated it when the male grabbed their co-star’s hair in a tight fist and yanked their head back painfully. How was that supposed to be pleasurable? It always looked like he was about to rip chunks out of her scalp or snap her spine.) Then, with a sore bottom, when the female pornstar either got fingered to completion or fucked, ohhh, the orgasm that ripped through you was always a satisfying one.

Again… you hadn’t expected Jake to show up.

Legs spread wide, two fingers deep with your thumb circling your hardened clit, the sudden blue hand lifting your tablet from where you had it propped up to watch your fuck film caused you to shriek — and not in pleasure.

The sharp brightness of the video on Jake’s sapphire colored face was… weird. His eyes glowed with the light refracting out of them, much like a feline on Earth. You yanked your earbuds from your ear, the sound of skin slapping together fading from your hearing. You scrambled back, trying to locate your bedsheet to preserve whatever modesty you might have had left, screeching, “What the fuck, Jake?!” Your heart was galloping away in your breast, and you could feel the stickiness of your arousal on your one hand clutching the cotton to your chin. You could also feel it seep out of you as your cunt clenched on nothing, seeing him standing there.

“Well damn, baby girl,” the Avatar chuckled huskily. “If this is what you’re into, I could accommodate you. Unless you’re still embarrassed from the other night?” Golden eyes flashed as he turned towards you, a challenging brow raised.

Trying to restabilize yourself, you demanded, “What are you talking about, you menace?”

He smirked, hearing the familiar nickname. “The night I came by and got you off,” he replied, as if reminding you of something you should totally know about. You stared at him blankly. The grin began to fade. “After Neytiri’s wedding…?” You gaped at him. “Come on,” he groaned. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby girl.” Your cunt clenched again, hearing him call you that. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I met you and I came by a week or so ago and I got you off and we fell asleep and then you ran away the next morning even though I could smell you getting hot for me again.”

He thought…

Oh… that changed things. Maybe…

“Jake… I…” you floundered, still. It had been a dream though… right? He hadn’t actually gotten you off, right? You had felt a bit more stretched out and sated that usual but that was because of the wet dream… right?

A considering look crossed his features. “I could take your choice away…” Your eyes bugged slightly as you stared up at him, still gaping away like an idiot or a fish or an idiot fish, heart kicking up speed in your chest, body trembling. A whole body shiver traveled through you. Jake scented the air and his golden gaze darkened, a predatory smirk crossing his features. “You like that, baby girl,” he stated. “You just got hotter for it. I can smell it. C’mere. Let D—let’s play.”

Jake suddenly yanked your top bedsheet away from you, uncovering your body and taking in your nudity eagerly. “Jake!” You protested but even to your own ears, it felt weak. He just smirked and grabbed your ankle, yanking you towards him. Oh, fuck. That had to be one of the hottest moves on the planet and the heat in your lower belly kicked back up. His nose wriggled and you hadn’t thought he could look even more smug. Before you could make sense of it all, Jake scooped you up, sat down on the end of your bed and then deposited your naked body across his bare thighs. You let out an ‘omph’ as you felt something else firm and hot digging into your hanging breasts and it took a second to realize; he’d taken his loincloth off. He was as naked as you were.

Looking down, you couldn’t see Jake’s cock but if you were judging off by what you felt, he was hung. And aroused.

You whimpered slightly.

“I gotcha, baby girl,” Jake assured you, one of his hands trailing his fingertips down your spine to the swell of your ass before dipping into the copious amounts of slick you had naturally produced. “Fuck, baby, bet I could get at least one finger in here no problem.” There was amusement and wonder in the ex-Marine’s voice. “But let me spank you, first. You like that, yeah?” You swallowed, nodding, bracing yourself on his thigh. “Use your words.”

You nodded again, saying, “Y–yeah, I… I like… getting s–spanked. Just… don’t pull my hair…?” Your voice trailed off.

“No hair pulling,” Jake repeated back. “Want me to brace your back instead, baby girl?”

You nodded, adding, “Yes, please,” before he could remind you.

“Good girl,” the Avatar grinned. “Color system work for you?” You verbally agreed. He prompted, “What’s your color, baby?”

“Green, definitely green,” you admitted, embarrassed at being displayed so but you couldn’t deny your arousal and you were both consenting adults.

Jake experimentally dropped his hand against your backside. It didn’t feel like much. “Like this, baby girl?”

You decided to be a brat and retorted, “A toddler could hit harder, Jake.” The next slap was much more appealing and you let out a quiet ‘oooph’. “Much better, Sully.” You peeked up at him to see him shooting you an eye roll. He spanked you again, earning another quiet moan. Then again and again and again. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, writhing over his knees as the sting in your ass and upper part of your thighs built enticingly with each strike. You nearly screamed when his next blow landed on your engorged cunt, nails biting into his thigh. He held you down harder and struck you there again, your squirming rubbing over the length of his hard cock. “Fuck, don’t stop, Jake. Don’t stop.”

A couple of more spanks to your ass, your upper thighs and your pussy and you felt the coil in your body preparing to spring. “Gonna cum?” Jake hissed through clenched teeth, delivering two more spanks. “Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum for daddy!”

The Avatar smacked your pussy directly eight more times, fingers spreading the sting between your cunt and your clit, before you did as you were told with a wail, slick flowing steadily all over his hand. He chuckled darkly, sinking his index finger into your fluttering walls and stroking a spot inside that prolonged the bliss and had you sobbing as you writhed over his knees, cumming harder than you can ever recall cumming before in your life. He eased you through it and when you started to calm, slid you up and off his legs, readjusting you to lie against his chest.

“You good, baby?” Jake asked softly. “Not gonna fall asleep on me again, are you?”

You hummed. “Not yet,” you admitted. You propped your head up onto your hand, bending your arm at the elbow. “Thank you for taking care of me, daddy.” Jake rubbed a hand over his face in embarrassment. “Hey, hey, I was just teasing,” you said softly, sitting up. “I have a spanking kink. You have a daddy kink. It’s cool. I’ll call you daddy if you spank me like that some more.”

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Originally Posted: 04 October 2023 Word Count: 2,590

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar #avatar smut #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #human reader #jake x you #jake sully x human!reader

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