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attapullman · 6 months

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Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend.

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps.

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you.

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix.

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always.

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation.

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher.

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar.

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men.

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin.

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest.

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after.

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out.

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor.

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along.

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock.

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly.

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck.

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited.

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers.

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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lxndonorris · 1 month

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a perfect summer break - Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x Y/N Theme: a little bit of everything, mostly fluff spending time on Charles's yacht during the summer break with a wet surprise for Charles x word count: 3415+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

The Mediterranean sun shines brightly in the cloudless sky, casting a golden glow across the still waters. The only sounds are the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht and the occasional cry of a seagull soaring high above. It is the perfect day—warm, peaceful, and serene—the kind of day made for relaxation and enjoying life's little pleasures.

Inside the luxurious cabin of the yacht, you stretch lazily, the feeling of pure contentment filling every fiber of your being. The smell of saltwater mixed with the faint scent of sunscreen lingers in the air, a comforting reminder that you're far away from the bustling world of Formula 1. It's summer break, and there's no better way to spend it than out here on the open sea, alone with the person you adore.

You take a moment to appreciate the opulence around you. The yacht, sleek and modern, in a world unto itself, with every amenity one could desire. The cabin is cool and shaded, a stark contrast to the heat outside. But while the interior is lovely, it's the world beyond that calls to you—the endless blue of the ocean, the warmth of the sun, and, of course, Charles.

You slip into a light cover-up and head out of the cabin, your bare feet padding softly across the wooden deck. The sound of the sea becomes more pronounced as you open the door, and your heart skips a beat as you see him—Charles Leclerc, your boyfriend—standing at the edge of the yacht, his hands casually on the railing.

He looks stunning, as always. His swim shorts hug his lean, toned body, accentuating the muscles he's worked so hard to maintain. A few pieces of jewelry—a necklace, a couple of rings, and his ever-present sunglasses—glint in the sunlight, adding to his effortlessly cool demeanor. The sun casts a warm glow on his skin, though you notice he's starting to turn a bit red.

Despite the slight burn, he looks utterly relaxed, his usual intensity replaced with a rare tranquility.

Charles is gazing out at the horizon, lost in thought, when you step closer. His hair, tousled by the sea breeze, flutters lightly, and the corners of his mouth curve up as if he senses your approach.

The sight of him like this, so calm and content, fills you with a warm affection. You move silently, your fingers itching to touch him, to close the distance between you.

When you finally reach him, you gently run your hand along his broad shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips. Charles tenses slightly at the unexpected touch, then relaxes, a soft hum escaping his lips as your hand trails down his spine and along his waist.

He turns his head slowly, and you're greeted by that irresistible smile—the one that makes your heart flutter no matter how many times you've seen it.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice soft and full of affection.

You smile back, your fingers still tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Hey, you. Enjoying the sun?"

"Mmm, always," he replies, leaning into your touch. "Though I think I might be getting a bit too much of it."

You laugh softly, your hand now resting on his side. "You might be right about that. A little red, but still looking fantastic."

Charles chuckles; the sound low and warm. He removes his sunglasses and sets them down on the nearby table, revealing those stunning green eyes that always seem to capture your soul. They are so clear, so expressive, and they lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you just stand there, soaking in the beauty of the moment, the comfort of being with him. His presence is all-encompassing, yet never overwhelming. It's as if the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, here on this yacht, floating in the vastness of the sea.

Breaking the comfortable silence, you ask with a playful glint in your eyes. "Do you have your phone on you?"

Charles raises an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the question. "No why?"

You smile mischievously, stepping a little closer. "Good, because the water is calling you."

Before he can react, you give him a gentle push, sending him over the edge of the yacht. His eyes widen in surprise, and he lets out a half-laugh, half-shriek as he tumbles into the crystal-clear water below.

There is a loud splash, followed by a moment of silence as you watch the spot where he disappeared.

You giggle, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and mischief. You love teasing him like this, knowing he'll be plotting his revenge the moment he surfaces.

Without wasting another second, you dive in after him, the cool water a refreshing shock against your sun-warmed skin.

You emerge from the water, gasping slightly at the temperature difference. The sun overhead feels hotter now, the rays reflecting off the water's surface in dazzling patterns.

But there is no sign of Charles. You glance around, treading water, a playful sense of unease creeping in.

Where did he go?

Just as you're about to call out his name, something grabs you from behind, pulling you underwater. You let out a startled yelp before being submerged, bubbles escaping your lips as you twist around.

When you resurface, sputtering and laughing, you find Charles grinning at you, his hair slicked back from the water, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Gotcha!" he exclaims, his laughter mixing with yours.

You splash him in retaliation, and soon you're both engaged in a playful water fight, your laughter echoing across the empty sea. It's a liberating feeling, being out here with him, away from the pressures of his career and the constant media attention.

Here, you're just two people in love, enjoying each other's company in the most carefree way possible.

After a while, you tire of the game, and Charles swims closer, wrapping his arms around you. You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you both float lazily in the water, letting the gentle waves rock you back and forth.

"This is perfect," you murmur against his skin, closing your eyes as you soak in the moment.

"Yeah," Charles agrees, his voice soft in your ear. "It really is. Just you and me, the sun, and the sea. No races, no schedules, no nothing."

You nod, feeling completely at peace. Being with Charles like this, away from everything, makes you realize just how much you treasure these quiet moments together.

It's in these times that you see a different side of him—the side that's not the fierce competitor or the media darling, but the man who loves you with all his heart.

Eventually, you both decide to head back to the yacht, your limbs feeling pleasantly tired from the swim. Charles climbs up the ladder first, offering you his hand as you follow.

The sun hits you with full force once you're back on deck, and you shiver slightly as the breeze picks up, cooling the droplets of water clinging to your skin.

"Let's let the sun dry us off," Charles suggests, gesturing to the cushioned lounge chairs that are perfectly positioned to catch the sunlight.

You agree, and the two of you settle down next to each other, lying on your backs with your faces turned up toward the sky. The warmth of the sun soon chases away the chill, and you close your eyes, feeling yourself drift into that pleasent, lazy state that only comes on the most perfect summer days.

As you lie side by side, Charles shifts closer, the space between you disappearing until he's right there beside you. Without hesitation, he moves to join you on the same lounge chair, adjusting himself so that you're nestled comfortably together.

There's just enough room for both of you, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

As you lie nestled together, the familiar scent of Charles reaches your nose—a mixture of salt from the sea, the lingering freshness of his cologne, and that indefinable warmth that is uniquely his.

It's a scent you've come to love—one that instantly calms you and fills you with a deep sense of comfort. You breathe it in deeply, letting it envelop you, and a soft smile tugs at your lips.

You reach out, your hand resting on his firm chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart steady under your palm. His skin is still slightly damp from the swim, but the sun has already begun to dry him off, leaving him warm on the touch.

You begin to gently stroke his chest, your fingers tracing the defined lines of muscles, feeling the strength and power that he carries so effortlessly.

Charles hums softly, his eyes half-closed in contentment. His own hand finds its way to your arm, his fingers trailing up and down in a soothing, repetitive motion. It's a tender, intimate gesture, one that speaks of the deep connection you share.

The world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the sensation of being here, together, in this perfect moment.

His hand moves slowly, almost absentmindedly, from your shoulder to your wrist, and back up again, as if he's memorizing the feel of your skin. The simple act of touch, being close to each other, is enough to make your heart swell with affection.

You feel the love radiating from him, not in words but in the way he touches you, in the way he holds you close.

You lift your head slightly, gazing at him. His eyes are still that vivid green, but now they're softer, more relaxed, filled with a peacefulness that you rarely see during the racing season.

His face, too, is relaxed, free of the tension and focus that usually dominate his features when he's in the public eye.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask quietly, your fingers still brushing over his chest.

Charles opens his eyes fully, turning his head to look at you. A slow smile spreads across his face, one that reaches his eyes, and makes them twinkle. "I'm thinking about how perfect this is," he replies, his voice low and sincere. "How perfect you are."

You feel a flush of warmth spread through you, not just from the sun, but from his words. You smile back at him, your heart feeling as though it might burst with happiness.

"You're the perfect one," you tease gently, but there's truth in your words. To you, he really is.

He chuckles softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips are warm and gentle, and you can't help but smile as the slight roughness of his stubble brushes against your skin.

The sensation is both familiar and comforting, a reminder of the many times he's held you like this, his affection evident in every touch.

"We're both pretty lucky, I think."

He moves to kiss your cheek, and again, that faint tickle from his stubble makes you giggle softly. You can't help but lean into it, savoring the contrast between the roughness of his stubble and the softness of his lips.

It's a feeling that's become intimately familiar to you—one that you've come to associate with the quiet, tender moments you share with him.

What's so funny?" He asks, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Your stubble," you reply with a playful grin. "It tickles, but... I like it."

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to kiss you again, this time on the lips. The sensation is electric, his stubble adding a deliciously rough texture to the softness of the kiss.

You sigh into it, your hand moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

His stubble continues to graze your skin, the sensation sending little shivers of pleasure down your spine. It's a small, intimate detail, but it's one of the many things you love about being close to him.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathless, and you smile up at him.

"I'm never letting you shave that off," you say, half-teasing, half-serious.

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he brushes a hand over his stubble.

"I'll keep that in mind," he replies, leaning down to kiss you again, this time on your nose, eliciting another giggle from you.

As you nestle closer to him, you sigh contentedly, closing your eyes as you rest your head on his shoulder.

The sun continues to bathe you in its warmth, and the gentle rocking of the yacht adds to the feeling of utter relaxation. Charles's hand still moves on your arm; his touch light and comforting.

For a while, you both lie there in silence, just enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to one another. The sun's rays start to soften as it dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the deck. The air cools slightly, but neither of you makes a move to get up.

There is something about the moment that feels timeless, as if nothing else matters except the two of you and the love that you share.

You feel Charles shift slightly, his lips brushing against your temple.

"You know," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with affection. "I could stay like this forever."

You smile, your hand resting over his heart.

"Me too, Charles. Me too."

As you lie comfortably in his arms, your eyes drift over Charles's skin, noticing the slight redness from too much sun. You can't help but chuckle softly, the sound escaping your lips before you even realize it.

The thought of his usually careful self forgetting something as simple as sunscreen brings a playful smile to your face.

Charles notices your amusement and raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a curious grin.

"What's so funny now?"

You reach out and gently run your fingers over his warm, slightly sunburned skin, feeling the heat radiating from it.

"I´was just thinking," you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, "that you really need to put on some sunscreen, Mr. Leclerc. We can't have you turning into a tomato before the break is over."

He glances down at his own chest and arms, chuckling along with you as he realizes just how much the sun has kissed his skin.

"You're right," he admits with a sheepish smile. "I might've overdone it a bit." His tone is light, filled with that easygoing charm you love so much.

You laugh softly, leaning in closer, so your noses almost touch.

"Looks like I'll have to take care of you," you murmur, your voice playful yet tender.

Charles's smile widens, and his eyes soften as he looks at you, the affection in his gaze making your heart skip a beat.

"I'd like that," he replies, his voice low and full of warmth.

Before you can say anything more, he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His stubble tickles your skin, making you smile against his mouth.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the lazy, sun-soaked day you've spent together. You can taste the salt of the sea on his lips, feel the warmth of his skin under your hands, and it makes you feel completely, blissfully content.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, and you both chuckle softly, the sound mingling in the stillness of the evening.

"Seriously, though," you say with a playful smile, "we need to get you some sunscreen before you're too burnt to enjoy the rest of our time here."

Charles grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Alright, alright. I'll let you play nurse." He teases, kissing the tip of your nose before adding, "But only if it means I get more kisses like that."

You laugh, giving him a playful nudge.

"Deal."

With that, you sit up, reluctantly pulling away from the cozy cocoon of his embrace to fetch sunscreen. Charles watches you with the same easy smile, his eyes following your every move.

You feel his gaze on you, warm and loving, as you retrieve the bottle and settle back down beside him.

The sun is lower in the sky now, casting a golden glow over the yacht, the light softening everything it touches.

You squirt some sunscreen into your hand and begin to gently rub it into his skin, your fingers moving in slow, soothing circles. Charles closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the attention, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"There," you say once you're finished, leaning down to press a kiss to his now-protected shoulder. "All better."

He opens his eyes and smiles up at you, a look of pure adoration in his gaze.

"Thank you, love," he murmurs, pulling you back down beside him.

You curl up next to him once more, his arm wrapping around you as you rest your head on his chest, the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat is the perfect soundtrack to the moment, lulling you into a state of peaceful contentment.

As the sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, a gentle breeze sweeps across the deck. The air, once warm, begings to cool, and you feel a slight shiver run through you.

Charles notices immediately, his protetctive instincts kicking in.

Without a word, he sits up, leaving the warmth of your embrace, and you watch as he heads towards the cabin.

A moment later, he returns with a soft, cozy blanket in hand, his smile tender as he wraps it around the both of you. He tucks the edges securely around your shoulders, ensuring that you're completely covered before he lies down beside you again, pulling you close.

You snuggle into his side, feeling the imemdiate warmth of the blanket and the reassuring comfort of his body pressed against yours.

The coolness of the evening air fades away as you lean against his strong frame, feeling his warmth seep into you.

With a contented sigh, you reach out to stroke his chest once more, your fingers tracing the familiar contours of his muscles, the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothing you.

Charles hums softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, and it's a sound you've come to love- a sign of his deep contentment, of how peaceful he feels in this moment with you. His arm wraps around you, holding you close as he nuzzles his face into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp.

The quiet intimacy between you feels almost sacred, as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, wrapped up together under the softening light of the setting sun.

The sky above begins to darken, stars slowly appearing one by one, twinkling against the deepening blue. The sound of the water lapping gently against the side of the yacht provides a soothing backdrop, mingling with the rustle of the blanket as you shift, nestling even closer to Charles.

His chest rumbles with another contented hum as he hugs you more tightly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"I love this," he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing whisper in the quiet evening. "Being here with you... nothing else matters."

You smile, your heart swelling with affection as you lift your head to look up at him. His eyes meet yours, the green softened by the twilight, filled with so much love that it takes your breath away.

"I love this too," you whisper back, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "And I love you."

His smile is radiant, even in the fading light, as he returns the kiss, his lips lingering on yours. It's a kiss filled with all the love and tenderness that words could never fully capture, a promise that no matter what, you'll always have this- each other, and these precious moments.

When the kiss ends, you settle back down against his chest, your hand continuing its slow, gentle caress. Charles hums again, a sound that reverberates through his chest and into your very soul.

The night continues to settle in around you, but wrapped in each other's arms, you feel nothing but warmth and love.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagines

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mickyschumacher · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friends with benefits is never a good idea. friends with benefits with carlos sainz especially isn't a good idea.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), jealousy, fwb to lovers trope!, let's hear it for the google translated spanish!!, unprotected sex again (using a condom is hot behaviour ♡︎), remnants of gaslighting?, oral sex, p in v, pussy eating, overstimulation, cumming inside, love confessions, set it up reference!, carlos realising his red flags, mention of rebecca donaldson as the other girl but she isn't vilified or anything (some peeps scare the shit outta me), idk anything about granada (except the memories of the alhambra! can i get an amen?)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x fwb!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+

𝐀/𝐍: this was a messaged request so i hope it was up to par! kinda long but we get there eventually. plot holes? yes. proof-read? um... to my sore eyes, yes.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

There were many things the world still couldn't explain. The human body, the brain especially, why humans yawn, the cause of Alzheimers, or why tomatoes have 10,000 more genes than humans do.

In addition, you couldn't explain how you had gotten to be friend with benefits with none other than Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver for Ferrari.

Well... there were some parts you could explain. Like how you met. You were simply a girl from Pampaneira, Granada going grocery shopping after eating up the last of what was in your fridge and Carlos was a fresh bachelor who decided to spend a part of his vacation with his friends over 400 kilometres away from his Madrid home in Granada.

A fresh bachelor who also happened to need grocery's for his cousin's raging hangover.

To say you were the town's golden girl was a bit of an understatement. You were far too busy greeting all your local residents. You didn't notice Carlos when you first walked into the store.

But Carlos noticed you. Actually he noticed you before he even laid eyes on you. Your sweet floral perfume roamed the air and engulfed him, luring him without any words. And then he saw you.

You were a beautiful woman. Everything about you... the long hair, your glowing skin, curves every lover goes to dream about at night, eyes that you would never want to let down, your lips... God your lips, one look at them and no sane person could stop thinking about them... at night; and then there was your smile, a social service that could get rid of all the tension in this world.

You didn't notice Carlos until you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from the health isle that was poorly across from all your fruit. There was no shortage of attractive men in your town let alone Granada. But you had never seen a man like Carlos before.

The thicket of brown locks that you craved to run a hand through, his gorgeous tan skin that God must've given, the mysterious chocolate eyes, the perfectly plump lips which made you think he just had to be a good kisser, the slight scruff on his face that made you wonder how it would feel on your skin, the taut body... a gorgeous man.

You didn't know who Carlos was. In Pampaneira, although you new what it was, no one really cared for F1. It was a village that bordered on as a small town. Everyone here knew each other well and spent every second socialising.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to talk to him or whether you were too nervous to. But it didn't matter because Carlos made the first move and introduced himself. You introduced yourself. He complimented you. You complimented him.

And that was that.

By nightfall, he was in your bed and the both of you had the most sinful, steamiest sex of your lives. So much that Carlos saw you for the rest of his time there. So much that when it was time to leave, Carlos told you to come with him.

And you did.

It was all of that that had led up to all of this. This being your attendance to a dinner at an F1 event as Carlos' plus one in Barcelona. He couldn't hide a beauty like you. Besides, the Spain paps had already managed to weasel their way into your relationshpi with Carlos. Most people thought you were dating. But Carlos had firmly laid the rule out as one did when you became friends with benefits: you don't fall in love. Neither one of you. You agreed for the sanity of your brain because you were far too attracted to the man to fall into the tricky waters of love.

"Holy shit, Carlos..." Lando swore when his eyes landed on the entrance of the dinner.

Carlos raised a brow at this driver, turning his head to the direction of Lando's gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. Every time he saw you, he couldn't be more thankful that he had eyes.

You had captured everyone's attention no doubt. How could they not look? Not when you were dressed in a light yellow satin material that hugged you in all the right places. Not when your neck was adorned in the diamond lariat necklace Carlos had brought you, hiding all the hickeys he had place there this morning. Not when the back of the dress scooped so far down that it only rested a few inches above your ass.

Christ, Carlos thought as he discreetly adjusted his tight pants. You were a sin.

You greeted all the drivers, laughing softly when Lily and Alexandra started to fawn over your appearance.

"I'm telling you, you are probably killing Carlos right now," Lily whispered on one side of you.

You rolled you eyes as Alexandra quipped on the other side, "Probably? Look at him. He is suffering."

You pressed your lips together, preventing a full-blow grin from washing onto your face.

That was kind of the point.

You tried to avoid as much of Carlos as you could because riling him up was one of your favourite pastimes. But in your endeavour, you felt a familiar hand graze your bare back, sending a warm tingle up your spine.

"All of this when we don't get to finish the night together? No juegas limpio, mi niña bonita," Carlos' lust-ridden voice whispered as his head dipped down, letting him place a small kiss behind your ear. You don't play fair, my pretty girl.

You gave him a meek smile. As much as you loved his compliments, they were starting to get you these days. The endearments combine with his actions were stirring up feelings that should be sounding alarms in your head.

"Jugar limpio no es divertido," You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to divert you eyes to the dinner. Playing fair is no fun.

"That's true." Carlos poked his tongue in his cheek upon hearing your remark. You reminded him of a firecracker. Always ready to burst and come back with something to say.

"You have to admit it is sad though, hmm? Because all I want to do is take that dress off you and fuck you. I want to make you cum over and over again till all you can call yourself is mine. I want to watch my cum fall from your pussy because you can't take it all, niña bonita. And then I want to push it right back in so you can walk around with it all day. Soon. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath as Carlos' breathing became heavier and heavier. You chewed down on your bottom lip, standing a bit straighter to discreetly clench your legs together. With a small smile, you turned to Carlos. "I hate you," You told him in the softest and sweetest voice you could muster.

Carlos grinned, making your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, his chest facing your back, and his chin resting on your collarbone. "Please. You love me."

You blinked blankly at the cold splash of reality that fell over you. You gave a dry and short laugh. You patted his hand with your own. "En tus sueños, Carlos." In your dreams, Carlos.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Mornings without Carlos usually meant you had energy because you weren't having your brains fucked out. But your usual opening of your socials had brought something that drained you entirely.

You stared at your ceiling of your hotel room blankly. Regardless of whether Carlos was awake right now, he wouldn't have even seen this. He didn't read any other news other than his favourites like ESPN or the CBS Sports Network.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. What was this feeling in your stomach? Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy? You couldn't really put a finger on it and nor could you tell why.

You turned to plant your face in your pillow and let out a muffled groan.

How did you even get here?

Right. The grocery store.

You missed home. Home was an almost 2 hour flight or an eight hour car ride away. You missed when things were simple. When they made sense. Because lately, nothing had made any sense.

The thought of home brought you to the next train of thought: food. And as if on cue, your stomach growled at you with demand. So with the motivation of not starving to death, you got ready to have breakfast and headed down to the nearest cafe because hotel room service sucked.

Opting for a mocha with an extra sugar to counteract the bitterness in your life, you sat down with some a variety of churros and croissants to choose from.

Your phone blared it's default ringtone, capturing your attention. Your eyes flickered over the name and your heart softened and your bad mood had slightly eased. You grabbed the device and slid your thumb to the right.

"Buenos dias, mamà," You greeted. Good morning, mama.

You could hear her exclaim with joy, a sound you hadn't heard in a while. "Ah, mi niña bonita, buenos dias! ¿Cómo estás? No has leído las noticias, ¿verdad?" Ah, my pretty girl, good morning! How are you? You haven't read the news, have you?

You winced at your mother's pet name. You hated this. You hated that the lines between before Carlos and during Carlos were blurring.

"Sí, mamá, lo hice. Don't worry. It's just gossip. All fake," You told her even though you had no idea yourself. Yes, mama, I did.

You heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, making your heart hurt. "Right? I thought so. Carlos would never do that. Es un buen chico." He's such a good boy.

You could only tightly smile, agree, and be thankful you weren't seeing your mother in person otherwise she would've been able to tell straight away. You didn't know because all you had agreed on with Carlos was attraction. Nothing more and nothing less.

You caught up a bit with your mother. The conversation ended with her demanding a family dinner to which you told her you would see if Carlos had the time.

It was a simple conversation yet it was eye-opening.

You wanted that family dinner so badly. You wanted to be able to go see your mother and Carlos hang out. Hell, his own mother wanted you to call her mom. You wanted the stupid romantic things like dates, a person who would listen to you, the whispers of sweet nothings because... because you were in love with him.

Of course you were. Sure Carlos slightly had a quick temper and he wasn't that great at being emotional with you or anyone for that matter... but there was that saying: you like because and you love despite. Despite all of his flaws–because no matter how great a man is, he has his flaws–you loved him.

“Buenos dias, cariño,” A familiar voice greeted behind you. Good morning, sweetheart.

You turned your head, finding the root cause of all your problems stand before you with the most handsome smile.

"Carlos," You said with a slightly surprised tone.

Carlos smiled in return, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head before he sat in front of you. The both of you waited for his coffee to be placed on the table before any conversation between you resumed.

"It's a beautiful day, no? I feel good about this weekend too. It kind of feels like everything is coming together," Carlos told you, raising his brows excitedly at you.

You gave a gentle smile, taking a long sip of your mocha. Slowly you placed the cup down and took in a sharp breath of air. "Carlos... can I tell you something?"

Carlos furrowed his brows and softly laughed at your almost worried tone. He nodded. "Sí, cualquier cosa." Yes, anything.

You looked down at your cup, fingers tracing the rim of the glass as you wondered how to start. Your mouth opened and closed, uncertainty closing in on you. Your eyes snapped up at the taunt of your name slipping from Carlos' mouth.

Okay... you got this.

"Carlos, I... I don't think we should do this anymore."

The crinkles in between in eyebrows and amused smile on his face told you that you had lost him. "You are going to have to be a lot more specific than that, mi niña bonita."

You chewed at your bottom lip. This nickname was getting tiring if he didn't mean it the way you wanted it to. "I mean us, Carlos. This... whatever this is. Friends with benefits... our relationship... it has to stop."

Any amusement on Carlos' face had dropped. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to think back on how you had come to this decision. "I–what? What do you mean? Did something happen? I thought this was going fine... amazing, even."

"This isn't working for me anymore. I don't want to do this anymore," You shrugged with the pretence you didn't care.

Carlos grabbed your hand with his, rubbing the back of yours gently. "Is this the stupid headline thing? Cariño, they don't know what they're talking about."

"You didn't even deny it," You laughed softly as a bitter taste arose in your mouth and you slipped your hand our of his grasp.

Carlos stared at you for a while, unable to defend himself. "I don't understand. We agreed from the start that this wasn't going to be exclusive all the time. Three rules: it's open, we respect each other and we don't... we don't fall in love."

You paid no attention to where Carlos had paused. You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal. "It's not that... I just... I don't want to do this, okay? Just leave it alone."

"Then what is it? I know you. You can give me a better explanation than 'I don't want to do this'. I can't leave this alone. Did someone say something to you? Did they do something? I swear, Y/N, if they did–"

"No," You quickly and sharply interjected. You took a deep breath. "Carlos.. I want more from you. I don't just want to see you every night and morning. I want to see you when we go out to have dinner. I don't want to be your sidepiece, Carlos. I can't... not when I feel like this."

The silence from Carlos was deafening. He struggled to open his mouth. His eyes twinkled with pain. "But you know I can't give you that."

Right. Carlos Sainz didn't do relationships. He was an F1 driver. They liked pass the parcel. And it just so happened, you were his parcel.

You nodded slowly. "Lo sé. Por eso lo siento. I'm sorry for ruining things between us but I can't do this anymore. Because if I do... I'm afraid I fall even further. And that's not fair on me." I know. That's why I'm sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As much as you would like to say you were a responsible citizen who didn't make bad decisions when you were upset, you couldn't.

The offer of clubbing by some of the girlfriends of the drivers was far too appealing in your situation. Your agreement excited the girls because you rarely joined them on these outings because you were too caught up with a certain Spaniard. Granted they didn't know the real reason behind why you were so ready to join them but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

As you arrived to the club, Lily let out a low whistle when she laid eyes on you. "How do you say hot as fuck in Spanish? Because my oh my you are hot as fuck right now."

She wasn't wrong. You felt hot as fuck right now. It was a warm night in Barcelona and the sexy black long sleeve mini dress, the same one you reserved for Carlos, was staring at you, begging for you to take it out of your suitcase. It stuck to your curves, it had some scandalous cuts, and it was backless. A perfect dress for Carlos? Sure. But a perfect dress to let go of yourself in a club.

You almost snorted at the golfer's theatrics but instead you opted for a flutter of your eyelashes and a stretch of your hand. "Oh dear madam, you flatter me!" You thanked her in a poorly imitated British accent.

Heidi and Alexandra laughed quietly as Lily rolled her eyes before grabbing your hands. "Let's go! I need some tequila!"

Quickly all four of you were by the bar, taking shots of cava (Spanish wine) instead of tequila. Well, you watched them take shots of cava. You may not be having the best day in the world but you were smart and sober enough to know that you and alcohol was not a good mix right now. And all the pleas of these girls could not convince you to do it.

Soon enough, you were all on the dance floor. The club couldn't be more of a club: sweaty bodies dancing on each other, old 2000s' music thrumming so loudly that you would think it was coursing through your veins, neon lights flashing rapidly across the room.

You... you were a vixen, dancing your way through all the bodies, relishing in all the lingering eyes you had captured. Every move you made was unintentionally alluring; your long tresses grazing your skin seductively, sticking to your skin at times as the humidity of the club made you shimmer in the flickering lights while you controlled the pulsing rhythm.

Lily, Heidi, and Alexandra watched in a shortly-lived awe before their eyes widened as a guy behind you edged closer to you. You could feel his breath brush pass the nape of your neck while the heat of his body began to circle you as his chest neared your back.

You couldn't feel a damn shiver down your spine that made you feel good as you once did but you weren't sure if you care that much. With the music blaring and your urge to escape reality without a sip of alcohol, you got closer to the man.

Dancing slowly to the music, you moved your ass closer to the man, feeling his hand lay on your waist. Your head fell back on to his should as he began grind his body into you. You squinted at the purple and pink lights floating in the air, frustrated. Why wasn't your body reacting the way you wanted it to?

The man's lips ghosted over the shell over your ear and he whispered, "Let's get out of here, baby."

Your mouth opened to respond but before you could let out a syllable, you felt the man's presence disappear and a hand grab your forearm, pulling you towards them.

You snapped your eyes to the figure, eyes widening slightly at the familiar brown locks, flushed cheeks, and the same chocolate eyes. Only those eyes were far darker. The host of pure craze.

"Carlos–"

"I think she's fine. You can leave," Carlos said curtly, ignoring your call of his name, brown eyes firmly planted on the stranger.

The man, sensing Carlos' anger and annoyance, held his arms up in defence and walked away.

Without looking at you, Carlos held his rigid grip on your arm and hastily walked you out of this club with heavy steps. You could spot the trio of girls nearby whispering their apologies, concerns, and how they forgot to mention they invited the guys.

"Carlos," You called wearily, watching him open the door of his Ferrari.

"Entra," He looked over at the door, waiting for you expectedly as he leaned on the car. Get in.

"What? No, Carlos, let's talk about this–"

"Get in the damn car and then we'll talk about this."

You let out a huff at the absolute resolve Carlos sported on his face. With a clenched jaw, you dipped down into the Ferrari, immediately finding the comfort in the familiar seat. You peered over towards Carlos, who was walking to the driver's seat.

Fucking hell. What had you gotten yourself into?

Silently, Carlos slammed the door shut. He took a glance at you and sighed before reaching out to grab your seatbelt and click it into place. The cologne you had gotten to used to infiltrated your nose as heat radiated off of his body. Putting the car into drive, Carlos was off onto the streets.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The ride to your hotel was fast. Carlos was well over the speed limit and all the buildings zipped past you like lightning. It was unnerving to see the combination of speed, silence, and anger in Carlos but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn't find it somewhat attractive. Carlos' hands firmly on the wheel, his taut jaw, hardened eyes... God, you were awful.

Not wanting to cause any commotion for all the gossiping fans, you both quietly arrived to your hotel room. You both took off your shoes silently by the door. You took a little longer, fiddling with the straps of your heels in hope to by you some time to think of something... anything to say.

With nothing coming to mind, you turned around to Carlos standing in front of you. His brown eyes stared hard at you while he chewed the inner corner of his mouth. You let out a small exhale when you felt his hand caress your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.

"Carlos..." You called once again.

Carlos momentarily closed his eyes at the feeling of your breath against his hand. "We barely finished our conversation this morning and you were going to fuck some stranger? Hmm?"

"I–" You wanted to say no. You really did. But you weren't raised a liar. "Yes. I was," You stated almost apathetically. You returned his sharp stare with a pointed look. "What is it to you?"

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath of air. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you so you were flushed against him. He pushed down the grin that was beginning to form once he felt your hardened nipples against his chest. He dipped his head down to your ear. "Say it again. I dare you. Try it again and see if I won't fuck you and edge you over and over again."

Your mouth fell open at Carlos' declaration while your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. You swallowed all the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, letting out a nervous incredulous sneer. "You wouldn't. You're driving tomorrow."

In addition to the three rules, Carlos had a special one of his own: no fucking the day before driving or throughout the weekend. Because of his addiction to your body and the animal he was, sex expended far too much of his energy and he knew for a fact that his team would be able to tell.

The hairs on your body stood straight and goosebumps began to travel down your skin as Carlos' thumb trailed from your lips to the valley of your breasts. His head tilted to the side, eyes moving from your tightly covered tits to your face. The corner of his mouth tugged up, forming a humoured smirk. "You don't think I will? After the shit you pulled? I made you a promise yesterday, cariño, and I'm going to fulfil it."

You let out a soft exhale. Your heart was racing in your ears. "Carlos... this isn't right. I meant what I said. I can't pretend like everything is fine like you. Besides you said it was open, right? You, out of all people, can't react like this."

Carlos' possessiveness was something you could never entirely wrap your head around. Sometimes it was there and other days it wasn't. He was all over a model yesterday and now he was pulling you away from other men? It was ironic.

The gaze that Carlos held told you there was something he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it. No... he couldn't admit it.

But you gladly would for him.

"You're afraid, Carlos. And I don't blame you. You've never had a serious relationship, you never committed, you never fallen in love so I'm not that surprised. But you've got to understand that I can't stay with you like this."

Carlos huffed in amusement, shaking his head shortly after. "You're wrong."

You raised a brow. "Am I?"

He nodded slowly. "I mean you're right about the relationships and commitment," He started, ensuring his eyes were firmly planted on you, "But I've fallen in love."

Your shoulders slump at his admission. Great. This was exactly what you needed right now. "Y-You have?" You asked with a small voice and a want to blare some heavy music through yours ears.

Carlos nodded once again. "At first sight. In a grocery store. There was this girl. She walked in, didn't notice me. But I saw her. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She laughed and smiled with the locals and I thought that for a second I died and went to heaven. I caught her eye and introduced myself. She did the same–"

"Carlos..." You interjected, feeling your heart pick up it's pace once again.

But the Spaniard continued his story. "We complimented each other, we talked and joked. Then we went to bed that same night. It was perfect. And after we finished, the thought of losing someone like her scared me. It was so terrifying that instead of asking her out, like a normal person, I asked her to become a bloody sidepiece out of all things. Can you believe it? I was an idiot... an idiot in love. I still am an idiot. Because she told me she loves me and I haven't done anything about it. Well, till now."

Carlos let out a long exhale, eyes nervously darting across your face, trying to draw any conclusions of your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes. "I hate you."

"What?" Carlos spluttered.

"Kidding!" You broke out into smile. "I love you too, Carlos. Not as much as you though. First sight? You are down bad," You jested, trying to not let all the fluttering feelings swirling in your body burst out of you.

Carlos blinked blankly at you. You were unbelievable. He shook his head at you, feigning a look of disappointment as he pulled you towards the bed. The soft sheets morphed around you, lulling you to a comfort you had been craving ever since you had put on your heels.

You eyed the lust-ridden look Carlos had. "I was being serious, Carlos. You're racing tomorrow. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, sex after a podium sounds nice," You offered, hanging your arms around his neck as he hovered over you.

Carlos smiled gently at your confession, heart warm at the thought of you by his side. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "As sweet as that is... I was also serious about my promise."

Carlos' leaned in, taking in one last glance of you before pressing his lips to yours. Goosebumps began to swarm every inch of your skin as his hands trailed down your body, finding your hips. If only he knew his tracks the way he knew your body.

You let out a small moan, giving Carlos a new access to your mouth. Your skin prickled with a new wave of heat that was unlike any before. Because this time you knew things were different. He loved you. And you loved him back.

You felt Carlos' tongue invade your mouth while his warm hands had moved to your bare thighs. His grip on your skin tightened as he revelled in the feeling of your plump skin rolling and burning in his hands. All because he touched you.

He removed his swollen lips from yours. The very same lips quirked at your whine. "You know this dress was driving me crazy?" He told you, planting his lips on your neck. His fingers skated up your thigh, inching loser towards your heated pussy.

Christ.

You leaned into his touch, losing yourself as he marked your skin with his love. His lips sucked on your soft skin with a greed the both of you had never felt before.

"Yeah? When? When you first saw me or when I was grinding on that guy?" You teased, running a hand through Carlos' dark brown locks.

Carlos paused, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. His fingers continued to travel, finding the soft and soaked fabric of your panties. "Niña bonita, you sure talk a lot for someone who is so wet from only kisses," He murmured against your lips as he pressed a finger on your cloth-covered folds and lightly grazed your clit.

You gasped at the sharp tingle shooting up your body. "Fuck, Carlos," You sighed, feeling a certain craving begin to settle in.

Carlos sported a grin that you almost wanted to smack off of his face. A feeling which only intensified once he removed his finger from your clit, leaving you breathless as he removed your dress. He sucked in a sharp breath coming across your bare body. "You know... going braless I get," He started while he trailed his finger down the valley of your breasts and towards your pussy. His finger stopped right above your clit. "But no underwear?"

You stayed silent, chest heaving at his touch. You were waiting for Carlos to push you right into the ecstasy you had been bordering on. "Carlos, please."

Carlos smiled at your strained plea, bringing his lips to your stomach. "Your pleasure is my pleasure," He remarked.

You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them.

You squirmed at his breath travelling up your spine. "Only for you," You rasped.

Carlos could only feel his heart pace as he watched you clench around nothing. His cock was flushed against the fabric of his pants and his underwear. Fuck, the pain was almost a dizzying as the arousal he was receiving. You were so good to him... oh the things you did to him. Good girls deserved rewards, did they not?

Your mouth fell open as Carlos' tongue laid flat against your folds, taking one long lap at your arousal. You could feel him smile against your thighs. "You taste so good," He murmured before plunging his tongue back into your warm folds.

He explored every crevice of your pussy while you hand shot out to his brown locks, pushing his head further into you. The obscene grunts that echoed in the room after leaving Carlos' mouth were nothing compared to the pace he had taken. He was devouring you; inhaling and savouring your very essence.

You removed your hand from his hair and the back of your head fell into the soft sheets. Your hips bucked against his tongue while soft moans fell from your swollen lips. "So good, Carlos, fuck," you cried out, voice straining from the pleasure.

Carlos took your praise as encouragement, pushing his tongue further into your slick folds while his thumb found your needy clit. He circled the sensitive bundle with a teasing gentleness that sent bursts of throbbing pleasure down your core.

A groan fell from his mouth upon feeling your hand in his hair once again. The slight tremble of your thighs and the clenching of your pussy told him that he was doing everything right. You were on the brink of losing it.

"Cum for me, niña bonita," Carlos urged, thumb rubbing your clit faster and tongue lapping at your puffy folds.

Your hips quivered against Carlos' tongue, thighs tightening around his head as your eyes shut tightly, finding a white light in the dark abyss. Your eyes watered while your mind became absent in your climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Carlos!"

Carlos momentarily stopped his actions, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. You looked beautiful. Hot, naturally, but beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat made you glow and your swollen lips with the few traces of lipstick were a hot mess but he loved it.

"No, no, no," You mumbled in quick turns when you felt his tongue and thumb return not a return a single second later.

"I said multiple orgasms, cariño. You can give me another."

Despite your refusal and the slight burn of your sensitive folds, your body liked to betray you, convulsing once again. Your hips trembled against his touch while your fingers grasped the bedsheets tightly.

Christ. Carlos was going to be the death of you.

Carlos greedily and happily watched your overstimulated pussy grind against him involuntarily. By the last quiver of your hips, he gave you a warm smile, mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses across your stomach. "Well done, mi hermosa princesa." Well done, my beautiful princess.

You gave a tired smile, feeling a little less than beautiful with your sex sweat-ridden hair and skin sticking to the sheets.

"Princesa, are you sure you can handle my cock? I haven't tired you out too much, have I? Carlos queried, half with genuine concern and the other half with a tone that was almost patronising.

You narrowed your eyes before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, you did promise to fuck me. If you can't, then nevermind."

Carlos couldn't tell whether he was proud or tired of your shit. You were clearly tired yet you had a lot to say back. Like he said, you were a firecracker.

With one hand, he removed his polo shirt. His brown eyes bore into yours as he slowly removed his pants. His lips quirked at your sharp intake of air once your eyes feasted on the throbbing bulge in his underwear.

Your heart thudded against your chest while you sat up from your position and inched closer towards him. You looked up at him with big eyes, hand trailing down his taut chest.

Carlos heaved, feeling the you skim past his body hair. His tongue darted out, resting on his lips as he carefully watched you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the waistband of his underwear.

"Fuck me," Carlos muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you while you pulled his underwear down.

Carlos quickly removed his underwear from his feet and in hast movements, pushed you onto your back. He rolled his eyes at the teasing laugh that fell from your lips despite it being the most pleasing sound to his ears.

You looked at the Spaniard hovering above you, hand gently brushing his cheek. You smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I love you, mi amor." I love you, my love.

Carlos held your gaze, chest heaving at your sudden admission. He felt impossibly warm. It was like the first time he had met you all over again. He felt the same way the night you first had sex. He whispered, "Again. I want to hear it again, please."

Your eyes softened and your heart ached at his earnest plea. "I love you, Carlos. Forever."

Carlos stared at you for another second before bringing you into a long kiss. "I love you more."

You let out a small whimper, feeling Carlos' thick cock against your engorged pussy. You watched as his eyes became clouded with lust. Just rubbing his cock against your folds was an obscene high that made the both of you shiver.

The sudden jerk of your hips as his cock rubbed your sensitive and overstimulated clit made you cry out. "Fuck...," You moaned out, "I need your cock, mi amor. Please."

Carlos was so lost in the pleasure it took the slight dig of your nails in his forearms to ground him once again. "Me too, princesa," He grunted, selfishly grazing your clit again with his cock just so he could watch your hips jolt once again. Fuck. Your reaction drove him crazy.

Carlos forced himself to get ahold of himself and focus on pushing his cock into your pussy. Your hands fell to his neck, steadying yourself while a gratifying burn ached through your core. "Me estás llenando, amor. Muévete, por favor, Carlos." You're filling me up, love. Please move, please, Carlos.

A groan flew from Carlos' lips as he fell into your plead, hips beginning to rut against you. Your swollen folds clamped around him, holding a vice-like grip on his aching cock.

Your sweaty skin stuck against one another while Carlos brought this lips to yours, consuming all your lewd moans with sloppy kisses. He pushed his cock further into you, feeling his balls slap against you, making the most immoral and obscene sounds known to man.

With one hand placed on your hip, the other travelled to grope your breast. Rubbing your nipples in a circular motion, a shudder erupted through you, feeling your clit brush against his cock with each thrust of his.

Carlos looked down at you, feeling his cock pulse at the fucked out expression that teetered on your face. You could barely breathe with all the air escaping your lungs as the familiar white light edged near you. You clenched around his cock, signing Carlos that you were close.

"Carlos, fuck. I'm going to.... I'm going to..." You panted, unable to get out the words as the lust rang throughout your brain.

"You're going to cum? Tell me, mi amor, who did this to you? Who makes you feel this good, hmm?" Carlos beckoned, increasing the snap of his hips.

You cried out, right on the cusp of pleasure. "Tú, mierda, tú lo haces. Fuck!" You, fuck, you do.

Everything around you became a blur, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure. Your moans were silent but your body said it loudly: shaking against Carlos' cock.

"That's right. Me. No one el–shit," Carlos cursed, feeling your orgasm in his cock as you clenched around him. A high-pitched sporadic whine fell from his lips, hips stuttering against you.

The both of you moaned as his hot white cum spilled into your walls. Your folds clamped around him, taking every last droplet into your pussy.

You fell against the bed with an exhausted sigh. You felt the bed dip as Carlos did the same. You felt his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You turned your head to the side, raising a brow at the chocolate eyes flickering over you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, cariño. I should've never ever let you be in a position where you felt like a fucking sidepiece. You are so much more than that. The love of my life," Carlos murmured, pushing a greasy lock of hair behind your ear.

Fuck. This was a new side of him you were seeing. The emotionally available one. And you loved it. "Well, as long as I'm not a sidepiece again," You shrugged, laughing softly.

"Never," Carlos confirmed. "You can beat me with those heels of yours if I ever do."

"Hmm... tempting. Although the guy from the club looks so much stronger. Did you see his muscles? So big," You fawned, fluttering your eyes dramatically.

Carlos sighed, shaking his head. An amused smile spawned on his face upon hearing you burst into laughter.

You were going to be the death of him.

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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galeorderbride · 2 months

Text

Seriously, I am blessed <3 this blog was meant to be a tiny little corner that maybe 10 people followed lol. I'm so glad to be wrong because I got to connect with so many wonderful people here :)

I made a poll for a 100 follower milestone oneshot, and the winner was (of course lol) Gale fluff/smut. I've finally finished it, and I seriously hope everyone likes it because I made it for you!

So, can't stress this enough, 18+ MDNI

Oh, and it's not beta read. I will edit later lol if there are any mistakes

Fic (and warnings/description) under the cut and can be viewed on ao3 if you prefer.

Welcome Home

Gale Dekarios x F!Tav 18+ MDNI

Words: 5.2k

Rating: Explicit for graphic smut, piv sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), fingering, creampie, soft!dom Gale, use of pet names (sweet girl, love, etc), light choking with fingers. Fluffy and romantic :)

Summary: Gale and Tav spend their first night in Waterdeep postgame, and he wants to make her feel welcome :)

...

Funny how in the entire, months long adventure against all dangers known to the Sword Coast, the one memory that stuck to Tav the most was meeting Gale. Pulling him out of an unstable portal, the lure of his bright, scholarly voice calling her ‘friend’ in the first fifty words. Little did she know, he spoke to her a prophecy. From that moment on, Tav and Gale spent all their time together, getting lost in his conceptual monologues and trading books as a solace against the ever present violence.

In between the lines of borrowed books and stolen glances, falling in love was inevitable. From an unexpected kinship, to touching friendship and eventual passionate romance had been the one blessing in such a strenuous journey. Locked in the expectation of each other, eager for the night to fall, for the candlelight to illuminate the azure of Gale’s tent as an open door. A routine after each near death experience, to share two bedrolls squished together and become expert in the ways of making love without bruising their skin on the hard ground below. They were a proper couple by the journey’s conclusion, soaked in love and devotion, ready for the permanency of their relationship to finally bloom with the defeat of the Elder Brain.

Their affections made clear and official when Gale proposed the evening after the city had been saved.

One would think with all that familiarity that Tav would have no problem arriving in Waterdeep with her new betrothed. Settling into each other never came easier back in those wretched patches they called camp. Effortless to just exist with confidence. But as soon as Gale and her crossed the threshold into his towers, she felt like a stranger to him. Unsure of what the proper action might be, to the point where she found herself afraid to remove her cloak.

Everything felt foreign. As if she’d never been anywhere but on the road, either to Moonrise or Baldur’s Gate. The tower was new, of course, but even her clothes felt odd. Clad in a woollen skirt and forest green blouse instead of armour. Hair down and well groomed rather than pulled back for outdoor convenience. Skin clean and devoid of bruises and cuts. As ridiculous as it may sound, she forgot how to be anything else but a scrapping adventurer. And to be in a lavish tower full of every amenity she could dream of, alone in the start of domestic bliss with her beautiful partner. Something so commonplace, yet completely implausible to her.

“Your palace awaits, dearest,” Gale said, presenting her the main room of the tower with that comical charisma impervious to awkwardness.

Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. Hair tied back in a half up style and an ivory button down held tight against his body with brand new suspenders. Healthy and happy, soon to be free of the orb and all the consequences along with it. Tav had never seen him so elated. He simply glowed with the promise of their love. The promise of peace.

Tav smiled, the stretch of her lips failing to reach her eyes as she pondered about the tower. Distracting herself with the warm toned decor of brown leather couches and exposed stone walls. Gale magically lit the fireplace at the centre of it all, warming them against the cooling weather of late Uktar, made colder by the tidal winds of Waterdeep. She wanted to say something charming, but couldn’t find the words.

“I’m sorry, Gale, I’m—a bit nervous. Not certain why, this should all be so normal but…oh, I don’t know,” she said, scoffing at herself.

Gale stepped close to her, wearing that affectionate, closed-mouth smile he always did when she needed reassurance. Strong, sculpted hands found their way to her arms, squeezing just hard enough to ensure her eyes stayed on his. Shivers down her spine juxtaposing with the growing warmth of the fire.

“This isn’t exactly normal for us, hmm? Accustomed to living under the impression that we may die the next morning, worried about whether we’d turn into illithid or get done in by Bhaalists. Not much time for the soothing hum of what we once missed,” he said, caressing the sides of her arms lightly. “Fret not, I’m a little unsure, myself. We’ll adjust. How about a glass of wine?”

Tav felt eased by his touch, and his offer for something to take the edge off. “You read my mind. Thank you.”

Placing a small kiss on her forehead, he said, “Have a seat by the fire, my love. I’ll prepare the finest blend in my cellar.”

Gale bustled about in the concealed kitchen as Tav settled herself on the sofa closest to the windows, enlivening the living room with maroon and yellow stained glass and piles of books on their sills. Everything there was to know about him existed within these walls, the tower containing his very life breath. Excitement beat through her heart as she contemplated all the things he had not thought to tell her, waiting to be found in every corner. Silly things like unfinished poems and a favourite paper weight, if he played different songs on the piano at different times of day. All in between that she was meant to spend her life learning with him.

“Athkatlan clarry,” Gale said as he walked into the living room with two goblets and an intricate, tall bottle of mulled wine. “I’ve been thinking about this blend since we first cooked together. How you loved those darker spices, cloves and peppercorns, and your admiration for the blackberry sauce I made. How I hoped I’d be able to share this particular bottle with you. I’m glad that dream has come true.”

Notes of thyme and cherry touched her lips before the wine blanched her tastebuds with the heavenly taste of vanilla. Warm, mirthy flavours that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The soft happiness of being thought of enough that he had a wine decision months before they could even pop the cork. That was simply Gale; he had a way of making her feel like the only person in the realms.

“You had my tastes down so early,” she said. “I can’t possibly compete.”

“Don’t think of it as a competition. You’ve never been to Waterdeep, have no family or friends here, and yet you still came here with me when I asked you. For that, the least I can do is think of a wine to match your tastes,” he said.

Tav smiled, confident enough to rest her hand on top of his, “Where you go, I go. That was decided the same day you chose this wine for me.”

Neither of them noticed how close they’d drawn, each sip of their wine leading them nearer and nearer. The sides of their thighs touching, Gale’s arm lingering behind her back, ready to snake his arm around her waist. Her hand still held his, comfortably resting on his lap. That beckoning look in his eye had Tav spellbound, the seductive leer ending in the corners of his lips, stretched to a subtle, desirous smile. An expression incapable of feigning innocence, pooling with a tender but heated want.

Gale slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, peppering soft kisses against each knuckle grazing against his beard. Tav’s stomach tightened, tingling with sensations of desire. Heat from the fire sunk into already burning skin and the warm blush of the wine in her blood. She often wondered if he did magic when he touched her like this, rendering her still and speechless. Her pride would never let her ask him, lest she find out the actual answer and prove to the world that she really was just a fool for him.

“Come here,” he said with his lips grazing her fingers, “Let me kiss you.”

Soft lips found hers as Gale finally let that hovering arm wrap around her waist. Unburdening her nerves with every caress of his palm against her back, slowly but surely finding its way under her blouse. Fingertips grazed her spine, counting each inch from the base to the top. His other pressed against her cheek, holding her close. Tav melted under his kiss, a light tickle between her legs as he slipped the tip of his tongue inside her mouth. Not too much, just enough to ease them into a gentle make out. Gale never rushed. He enjoyed playing with her, feeling the warm wetness of her lips, the amused yelp when he nipped at the fragile tissue, all the ways to get her body to lean into his. And it always worked, proven by the hook of her leg over his thighs, the silken heat of her core driving him.

Tav could’ve stayed like that for ages, able to forget the world around her with his passionate kissing. He always said he could do better, develop his technique after being out of practise for so long. But even the first time, tucked away in that starry illusion he conjured, it was the best she ever had.

“You deserve to be worshipped every single day, my dearest love. But tonight, especially. For the first time, we are home. This is your home, if you’ll have it. I want everything to be perfect,” he said, mouth still hovering over hers. The taste of his breath on her tongue, laced with vanilla wine and spearmint.

“Oh, Gale, you’ve done so much to make me feel welcome. Things are already perfect,” Tav said.

“Then let’s make perfect last. Come with me upstairs, there’s more I’d like to show you,” he said.

Hand-in-hand, they left the living room and walked up the spiralling steps to the second level of his tower. Tapestries of different scenes hanging on the wall, all with accents of florals, latticework and myths of great heroes of history. Candlelit sconces lighting their way up. Nothing short of a fairytale, as if she was wandering the castle of a magical prince. Well, in a way, she was.

Somehow, she imagined the study he showed her on their first night together. The very centre from which he cultivated his life before meeting her. But he led her through a different door, one leading to a spacious, well kept bedroom. A king-sized four poster bed against the furthest wall, a closed terrace with beautiful double doors. Night projected from the moonlit glass, droplets of rain beginning to patter against the panes. Another fireplace sat adjacent to the bed, lit amongst intricate stone just like the one downstairs. In front, two armchairs and a circular rug, different shades of dark red sewn in an intricate style.

“Oh my goodness, don’t tell me this is your bedroom? You wizards do like to live lavishly,” Tav said as he led her into the room. She stood in the middle, craning her neck to see every hanged painting and arcane trinket on each surface. Even after looking two or three times, there was something else to see.

“To tell the truth, the luxury of the room isn’t for me. Not really. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate fine decor and comfort. But most nights, I just fell asleep in my study. I wanted this to be something to share, to be a shelter of beauty and warmth for the one I love. Now that you’re here, I finally have a reason to close the books at the end of the night,” he explained, joining her where she stood and holding her close.

Tav smiled, running her hands up his chest and landing at his shoulders. The soft cotton of his button down like a cool breeze against her palms. Both his arms were snug around her waist, swaying her lightly in place.

“I regret to inform you that neither room will be offering much sleep, Mr. Dekarios,” she said, craning her head up to meet his lips in a soft, chaste kiss. “Not if I’m in here.”

“Oh, believe me, sleep was never an option,” He said, grinning between kisses that deepened with each smack of their lips together. “Tonight, let me welcome you to your new home. Show you the splendours of this tower and all the magic it can provide—in the mortal way, of course.”

Teasing him was all she could think to do to temper the giddiness within her. His poetic charm folding her stomach upside down. “Don’t be too fantastic, or I’ll start asking for it every night.”

“Hmm, a threat or a promise?” He asked, but there was no need for an answer.

Words were nothing compared to the sultry kiss he gave her, deepened with the slide of his tongue along her bottom lip and a soft moan crackling from Gale’s throat. This was the start of their lives together, away from danger and unpredictability. Beginning with a simple kiss in the middle of the bedroom that would be theirs forever.

“Now, darling, you have a choice,” he said to her, turning her body so her back pressed against his chest, his hands caressing her arms, shoulders and collarbone, just barely avoiding the peak of her covered breasts. His stubble tickled against her bare cheek, unable to resist planting little kisses along the side of his jaw as he moved her around.

He continued, “Armchair or bed?”

Tav’s entire body wanted to erupt in embarrassing giggles, but managed to keep her cool as she took a long, drawn out breath. “What exactly am I choosing these for?”

“Choose,” he demanded.

She bit her bottom lip, tempted by the tender warmth of the firelight, “Armchair.”

He moved her body a couple steps to face the chair, whispering in her ear, “In that case, I’m going to get you naked now. And then, I’m going to make you cum on the armchair. All well and good, sweet girl?”

Every part of her tingled at the sound of such a pet name. At this point, she’d have let him do just about anything he wanted. Her voice shook with anticipation, “Oh yes, all well and good.”

Gale began with the small buttons on her blouse, keeping her back to him. As his fingers undid each one, he kissed the side of her neck, the sound of his lips sucking and licking at her skin fluttering in her ears. Tav reveled in the shots of warm air as her shirt opened more and more, all the way until Gale pulled the fabric from her shoulders. A simple, cream coloured bra kept her covered, until he snapped the clasp off with expert precision, freeing her breasts for him to squeeze and knead. Tav sighed deeply, letting her head fall into the crux of his shoulder while his fingertips teased around her hardening nipples. Tracing the little buds and continuing to kiss her neck at the same time, so fervent that a trail of saliva dripped from his mouth down her skin. It was positively debauched, and yet so filled with devotion and love. His hands never allowed a part of her to go untouched, not even trying to seem like he wasn’t falling apart for her in an instant.

Letting go of her breasts, he let his hands trail to the belt of her wool skirt, chafing against her bare waist. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear now, simple affirmations like ‘beautiful’, ‘magnificent’, ‘my entire universe’. Tav could listen to him all night, just lying in his arms while he shuddered every adjective to describe her humanly possible. But not now, as he tucked his thumbs into the skirt and gently pulled the fabric off her rounded hips. He played with the lace of the matching underwear to her now discarded bra, letting his palms wander from the hem of the panties to her butt, squishing the soft flesh.

“How can something be so soft? You defy the greatest alchemists with the way you’ve been sculpted,” he said, giving her a playful pinch on her left cheek. Tav couldn’t stop that giggle, jumping forward as she felt the ticklish sting. A little distraction so he could bend down and pull off the last bit of clothing she had, now fully naked in the middle of his bedroom. Their bedroom.

“Shall I take a seat?” She asked, motioning towards the armchair.

“Mmm, yes please. So obedient, I don’t even have to tell you where to go. Seems you left your stubbornness in Baldur’s Gate,” he said, watching closely as her hips swayed in her walk to the chair. Each second he was blessed to witness her, she became more beautiful. Magic not even he could conjure. Intertwined so strikingly with the glittering veins of her soul.

Tav giggled, sitting on the chair with her knees tucked to her chest, as if hiding her body from the man who’d seen it countless times now. “Trust me, when I get more comfortable here, I’ll be back to my normal, argumentative self.”

Gale smirked, stepping in front of the chair, towering over her sitting form. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, my love. But I’ll not tolerate closed legs in this bedroom, dearest. Open up.”

With a quick motion of his finger, a magical, invisible force pried her legs open on the chair. Tav gasped as she felt the soles of her feet drag along the velvet fabric. The cool air kissed the surface of her core, already wet with desire before he’d even touched her. How could she not, when exposed to the ethereal beauty of Gale. The absolute picture of perfection to her, with his flowing chestnut hair lined with grey, his toned torso glistening under candlelight as he slipped off his shirt. He was impossible not to look at, as if he walked out of a classical painting.

Firelight glowed against her skin, her muscles melting into the comfort of the chair as she watched her beloved smirk at her. Eager tingles danced across her palms, yearning to touch his bare torso, feel the prickle of his body hair, kiss the orb tattoo that would soon heal away forever. Addicted to caressing her body against his own, coated with hot sweat as she imagined him everywhere on her, inside her. The craving was too much, Tav bringing one hand to knead her breast and the other down to her clit, gently rubbing the sensitive tip between her index and middle finger.

That is, until Gale lowered to his knees in front of her and moved her hand away. He grasped her wrist, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and shoving them inside for her to eagerly suck.

“No no, sweet girl,” he said, clicking his tongue, “Keep those fingers in your mouth. Let me make you cum.”

“Oh, Gale,” she said through her fingers, still prodding at her tongue, “Please…”

“Aww, please? Please what?” He asked, his voice dark with lust as he inched his face closer between her legs, enough to feel the chill of his breath blowing against her clit. Tav exhaled, craning her head back as she fought the pulsing desire to be filled, licked and sucked until she was ruined.

“P-please make me cum, Gale,” she said, taking her fingers out of her mouth as she spoke.

He raised a brow at her, distancing his head back as he said, “Put those fingers back, beautiful. And then I’ll do exactly what you want.”

They never had much time during their journey to enjoy themselves for a while. To let Gale take his time in pleasing her, demanding things of her. Tav felt even more blessed than she already did to be here with him, where they could spend the night adoring each other, exploring every way to make love. This, though, seeing Gale confident and assertive, would definitely be a favourite.

Placing her fingers back in her mouth, letting him watch as she poked and prodded at her tongue and throat. A muffled, heart stopping growl emanated from him as he neared her pussy again, letting a trail of saliva fall from his lips, sinking onto her clit. All she could do was whimper, her inner thighs shaking as he finally trailed his tongue all across her slit. Using the tips of his thumbs to spread her open as he gently wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking and kissing at the sensitive bud to keep her irresistible sounds in his ears. Mixing with his own moans, debauched with the slick of her essence drenching his beard.

Gale loved pressing at the soft flesh of her pussy with his thumbs, giving in to the temptation and pushing one inside of her. Continuing to lap at her clit, feeling it swell against his tongue as she drew closer to climax. He couldn’t help but smile every time she bucked her hips into him, using her free hand to clutch the arm of the chair while she struggled to keep sucking her fingers. Gods, sometimes she’d get carried away, and he’d hear a little gag from her throat, driving him further into her cunt.

“Gods above, that feels so good! I’m close…so close,” she exclaimed through her filled mouth, concentrating on the intense precipice she balanced on. Her hips grinding against him, nearly screaming at the sensation of his lips slurping at her clit. Only a few more seconds went by before an orgasm snapped through her insides, hooking her legs over his shoulders and crying out his name. “Gale! Gale! Ugh…”

The paradise of tasting her was unmatched to any other experience. Floral, buttery notes along his tongue as he used the tip to lightly trace across her clit, shaking from overstimulation. Gale replaced her fingers with the thumb that thrusted in her pussy, sharing in the flavour of her orgasm.

“Good girl,” he said, “You taste amazing, I could survive on your cunt alone. Always doing so well for me, but I need to see it again, alright?”

Tav’s sigh was breathless, wheezing with pleasure as she came down from the intense climax. She didn’t even have time to answer before he hugged his arms around her hips, scooping her legs around his waist to lift her off the chair. Limp in his arms, she began to kiss across his neck, licking and sucking to the point of marks. More desire between her legs when he’d groan in her ear, or shudder at the sensation of her nails gently scratching down his back.

Silk sheets met her backside as he lowered her down to the mattress. Plunged into even more comfort, certain she’d never experienced a softer bed. Her arms stretched above her head, letting Gale do whatever he wanted to her. Staring at her, he never allowed his eyes to part as he undid the buckle of his belt, removing his trousers. Tav bit her lip when his cock sprang free, thick and hard with the slick of precum dotting the tip.

“Let me touch it,” she begged, remembering she’d get what she wanted if she was polite, “Please.”

Gale laughed, that flirtatious scoff he did when he knew he was a step ahead. Circling her like prey, driven to madness by the beauty of Tav. He couldn’t believe she wanted to be with him, stay with him for the rest of their lives. A silent vow in his head that swore he’d do everything to show how thankful he was. She’d given him the greatest reward a person could ever ask for.

“So pretty when you’re begging for my cock,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind her. Positioning himself so his waist aligned with her face. Gale shook with arousal when he witnessed her licking her lips, eyes glued to the head. He asked her, “Do you want to taste me, dearest?”

Tav nodded, moving her neck forward to envelop her mouth along the head of his cock. Gently caressing the tip with her lips, rimming the tip of her tongue along the sensitive ridge. He shuddered, almost cumming down her throat right there, just enough strength to resist. This was her time, and once was never enough for Gale. He traced his fingertips down her body, stopping to pinch her nipples and graze her inner thighs before sliding two into her cunt. She yelped in surprise, lowering her mouth to capture his shaft deeper.

“Suck me all you want, but focus on finishing for me again, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to see it again. Can you do that for me?” He said, voice sensual and darker than his usual tone. Overtaken by extreme lust and the biting need to fill every part of her with his seed.

Tav nodded with him still in her mouth, her oral fixation kicking in as she felt herself working towards a second climax just because she felt him gently fucking her throat. Combining with the hot, delicate pleasure of him thrusting his fingers inside of her. Massaging her clit with his thumb in perfect circles, hitting every spot she loved. He used his free hand to hold her head on his lap, playing with her sweat-laden hair.

“Oh gods above, Tav! You give me more than I could ever imagine,” he said, throwing his head back as he relished in the pleasure of her tongue lolling around his cock. “Come for me, my goddess. So perfect, all for me. All for me.”

Gale’s cock popped out of her mouth as she gasped in ecstasy, a second orgasm blossoming in her core when his fingers hit just the right spot. Her already soaking cunt dripping onto his hand, body hot with sweat and spasming muscles. During her come down, she flicked her tongue along the tip of his cock, tasting the faint saltiness of his precum. Hooked on the sounds of his shaken breath as he laughed with terrifyingly seductive satisfaction.

Warmth covered her back, so heated and shaken she created her own heatwave. Between heavy breaths, she said, “Flip me over, please? It’s too hot.”

“What impeccable timing for you to say that. I’m going to fuck you now, love,” he said, quickly grabbing her waist and flipping her to her stomach in one, effortless swoop. Her head hung slightly off the foot of the bed, smiling to herself as she felt Gale move his body between her legs. His cock grinding against her core from behind.

Kisses trailed down her spine, a calm moan leaving her lips in enjoyment. Giggling as he nipped at her shoulders and scrunched her hair in his fist, pulling just hard enough for a tickling sting. He used his hold on her hair to turn her head, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate, burning make out. Pushing his tongue against hers with unbridled, sultry moans. Never over the taste of him, the scent of him, the weight of him, everything forever.

“Gale, please, I can’t take it anymore. More, more,” she begged, happily overwhelmed by the wet kisses he spread all over her face.

“More what, my dear? Use your words,” he whispered, biting and sucking at her earlobe. Tav’s legs bent in desperation as he pressed his rock solid cock at her entrance, teasing the slit but never penetrating. Just pushing the tip, teasing and teasing until she reached the point of crudeness he wanted her to be.

“Mmm put your cock in me, Gale. I want to come again, please!” She cried out, voice high and tired.

Allowing him to take control meant more than simply wanting to be submissive during love making. After months of constant fear of death, violence and all other forms of danger, the two of them could finally be vulnerable. Open themselves to one another in any way they liked, for as long as they wished. The very comfort Gale wanted to give her when they arrived at his tower, a beginning of a thousand nights of passion, tenderness and joy. And a thousand more after that.

“I love you so much, my heart. My soul. You are just…everything to me,” he said, body melting into hers as he slipped his cock inside. Slow, tight stretching conquering every nerve in her body. Endless pleasure in the feeling of being completely taken over by him, his chest against her back as he began to thrust into her stimulated cunt. His hand clutching her ass feverishly.

“I love you, Gale, please don’t stop! I’m…gonna…”

Tav couldn’t finish a sentence, not when the wet stretch of his cock thrusting into her kept going and going. His pace was strong yet loving as he kissed every part of her he could reach. Hands holding her head for support. He wanted badly for her to finish again, one more time before he found his own release. There wasn’t much left of him, his cock twitching between her vibrating walls sucking him deeper and deeper.

There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel something. Clit rubbing against the soft sheets while he pounded into her, languishing within as she felt his rhythm changing the closer he got. Each time he moved, his moans grew into desperate, pleasured whimpers. A sound like paradise to her ears, bringing her nearer to that final climax. Paralyzed under him as she let herself drown in bliss, going silent as her body quaked in orgasm. Muscles tightening with that weaker but heavenly spasm, her mind couldn’t believe he had driven her to such a high.

“Ohhh, yes, good girl! Finishing so good for me like that, three times. I’m going to make you mine, my love. Make love to your cunt until I cum deep inside you,” he said, growling in her ear like a feral beast. An irresistible side of him, made even better when knowing she was the only person who’d get to see it.

Both of them moaned in tandem as Gale spilled inside of her, hanging his head in the crux of her neck and shoulder as he held her tighter than ever. Full body tingles coursed through Tav, drunk on the ecstasy of being the vessel for his pleasure. Feeling him soften inside her while he peppered kisses along her back.

“Welcome home, my love,” he said, tone gentler as he came down from lust. He turned over, laying beside her as their hair hung off the foot of the mattress.

“You’re quite the host, Mr. Dekarios. Do you do that with all your guests?” She asked with a sly grin.

Gale wrapped his arms around her shoulders, snuggling their bodies together as he kissed the side of her head. “You’re not a guest, my love. This is your home, as much as it is mine. I’ll spend a thousand days and nights telling you that if I must.”

Tav hooked her leg across his waist, ignoring the warmth and sweat of their skin so she could be close to him. Be taken to that paradise unique to her beloved wizard.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

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currentfandomkick · 4 months

Text

Started as one thing and veered in another direction, enjoy!

Masterlist here

Last time was a fluke. A mistake… right?

Danny glanced around him, and looked in the mirror.

He looked the same. He didnt know how he even did it the first time. He had blacked out.

He still inspected himself. No gills or scales.

No glow-in-the-dark white on his skin in vertical lines flanked by black. Besides the usual body hair.

No green freckles. He… he can admit to missing those.

He kept checking daily. For any signs that, that form(?) was creeping back into his day to day.

That stupid ectopus he’s convinced is on ecto-dejecto or ghost steriods kept coming back.

It was to the point Boxy was concerned and ‘guarding his sleep’ (in exchange for origami boxes/cubes. He even made some for Lunch Box).

Danny decided to conk out during one of Lancer’s lessons after another attack the nogjt before.

He’s pretty sure Tapas/Taco is being restrained by his parents in an ecto-proofed tank.

Ancients he hopes so.

Lancer called him back after class, with that stupid ‘i know you are better than this and that accident does not excuse such poor behavior young man’ attitude most of the staff had toward him.

The actual lunch ladies were chill, and therefore his favorite. And Lunch Lady since she took to packing him an extra lunch that Boxy drops off. Something about fighting your food to eat it daily being ‘unacceptable!’

Whatever.

“Mr. Fenton, I understand that you are facing more challenges than your peers, but do try to stay awake in my class.”

“Got it. Blame Tapas.”

“You can’t blame mexican food for all your issues.”

“I don’t—Tapas is the ectopus that’s been obsessed with me and Phantom since the stupid thing showed up. It keeps escaping the Thermos, and i honestly have no clue how to keep him contained long enough to throw it at ecto animal control or ghost jail.”

“… Mr. Fenton, have you considered staying with relatives away from Amity until this issue is resolved?”

“I literally can’t.” His core sank at the idea. “Ecto contaminated and dependent. Medically speaking, until portable ecto is something that can be handled over long distances, I can’t leave for more than a hundred days, give or take, before dying.” No matter how much he wanted to at times.

Mr. Lancer frowned at him. “If possible, would mixed in-person and online schooling be something you’d be amenable to? I can speak with your parents and arrange alternative student success plan, but its clear the situation won’t improve unless better accommodations are put in place.”

Danny opened and shut his mouth. “If I can get them here, sure.”

“Excellent. I would like to continue your classes with myself in person to better monitor your progress, or we can do tutoring after school or during my usual block for Saturday detentions.”

Danny nodded in a daze.

Then something crashed in through the window.

“Adventures of Tom Sawyer!”

Danny threw himself against a wall, trying to get Taco off him, only to get pulled through a wall, and further.

Hey tried scrambling for something to grab, but he phased through everything and he couldn’t go ghost in front of everyone seeing him get kidnapped by an extra annoying octopus.

The fact it was being filmed made it Worse.

Fuck.

Masterlist here

If you want to join the tag list, comment on the master list or reblog saying you want to join

Tags: @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123

#dpxdc #long post #danny phantom #mer!danny #reincarnated danny #topo is a menace #dp x dc #part 3 i guess

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shamrockqueen · 5 months

Text

Omega Retreat : Chapter 3

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, reference to physical ailments

Word count : 2083

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

You tried to focus on your work, but you found yourself losing focus time and time again. Your eyes kept leaving the dull glow of your computer monitor to steal glances at your phone.

“You seem distracted.”

Her tone was playful, but the abrupt interruption still had you jumping in your seat. Your boss had snuck up behind you easily as you were rechecking your email on your phone.

“Geez, we’ll have to string a bell around you if you're going to sneak up on people.” You laughed back, reassured by her coy smile.

“Something’s got you in a good mood.” She hummed behind you.

“Oh, yeah I guess.” You try to hide your pink cheeks, too embarrassed over getting caught texting a new flame like a love-struck teenager.

“All the girls can smell the change. Even the betas, dear.” She sang back.

“Who is he?” She tried to hide her beaming smile behind the back of her hand as she leaned over on the wall of your cubicle.

You scoff, trying to cover your warm cheeks as you answer. “You sound more excited than my mother was.”

She gasped with a wide smile, like a schoolgirl getting gossip from a friend. Omega’s always connected more closely, and it warmed your heart that she could be equally happy for you. So, when she leaned in for a hint of another scent that may have been left to linger on your skin, you quickly answered the anticipation in her eyes.

“We haven’t met in person yet; you're not going to catch a whiff of him, so don’t bother trying.” You laughed up at her before she pulled away.

“No fun. You could at least tell me what he is.” You knew it had to be the question bugging her the most.

You hesitated for a second, biting back on your lip before whispering back, “An alpha.”

“I knew it!” She nearly jumped with delight, leading you to try and shush her before the other cubicles were privy to your personal business.

It made you happy that you could feel like you had bonds even at work, and we’re thankful for her gentle omega nature.

“Keep your voice down.”

“I’m sorry; I’m just so happy for you. After everything, I just..”

You didn’t want her to finish that sentence. Luckily for you, she wouldn’t, looking back into your saddened eyes instead. “I’m just so happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You think you’ll meet him soon?”

You chuckled alongside her, glad to have the conversation shift back to a lighter tone.

“We’ll see. We’ll see.” You shoo at her, hoping to get some of the work she’d given you done today.

She gets the message, realizing she’d been gushing for too long and had work of her own.

“Fine, but I expect an invite to that wedding.”

It was the last you heard of her before she walked back to her office.

You smiled back at your computer, a drab Excel sheet still painted over its background. You sighed back at it until a telltale ding rang across your previously ignored phone.

A relationship with an alpha was still scary, but Bucky seemed to dampen those worries every time you looked at his photo blipping over your screen.

You pulled the phone towards you to glance over the notification of Bucky’s message.

“I wait to see you tonight.” You read along with the small message box.

You ran your fingernail along the power button before pressing on it, letting the passcode window light up the screen before tapping on a handful of numbers.

You looked back at the few cubicles behind you, making sure you had a moment to answer.

“Me either. I can’t focus on work,” you typed fervently.

“I’d rather meet you in person, Omega." The message pops up in the next second.

You let out a breathy chuckle with a smile, still in disbelief that you could be his omega even in text.

“I know. Hopefully soon, but I’m excited about our video date.”

You were more than excited; it was all you could think about as the hours ticked away slower than they normally would. When 5 p.m. finally rolled around, you nearly lept from your seat. You nearly forgot to shut off your computer before grabbing your stuff and rushing away.

A giddy drive home was a delightful change of pace, spurring you to drive just a tick above the speed limit as you neared your little house.

You fly through the house, letting the door slam behind you before tossing your purse over the couch. You stumbled past the mirror, only to twist back towards it after catching sight of your messy hair.

Your fingers only tangle into it as you fight to take it out of its messy bun. You only tied it up halfway through the day for a little comfort, only to ruin all the work you put into it that morning.

You didn’t have any time to fuck with it now, yet you continue to burn through the few seconds you have left trying to tame your tired looks. Could each flyaway be seen through your laptop's webcam?

You stopped for a second, closing your eyes and sucking in an uneven breath before looking back up at your reflection.

You looked red—nothing new, of course—but not a face you wanted him to see, and yet there wasn’t anything you could do to fight it except to finally calm down.

Your hair wasn’t bad, and your reflection wasn’t meant to scare you, and as you continued to breathe, that red blush began to fade. You can do this.

You leave the mirror, setting your eyes on the laptop still sitting on the coffee table. You lowered yourself to the sofa to sit as comfortably as possible before pulling the computer to your lap and switching it on.

A brief photo of you with your arm wrapped around your mother’s shoulder flashed in the background of your screen before you set up the video call.

It was just more of those bouncing dots with a different ring as it all danced along a blue screen. You held your breath, waiting patiently for his image to take over. Yet, when the square zoomed over the page and movement took over your screen, every ounce of air seemed to force its way from your lungs.

He was there, tucking his hair behind his ear and smiling at his own screen as you gave a shocked smile.

“Hi!”

You mouthed back an overwhelmed ‘hi’ as you watched him intently. Your mouth moved in an attempt to form words, but you were far too mesmerized by the real alpha on your screen. That is, until his smile fell.

“Is your sound on? I can’t hear you.”

“Yes!” You were quick to reassure him, wanting desperately to see that smile set upon you again.

Just as you hoped, it was back in an instant after hearing your voice.

“Sorry, I was just a little speechless for a second.” You blinked at his image, wanting to make sure it was real as you spoke to it. “It’s amazing to finally see the real you. Not that I thought your photos were fake..uh it’s just.” You fought your way through your ramblings as he chuckled at your giddy and nervous demeanor.

“No, I know what you mean. It’s so exciting to finally see you, Omega.”

It was like a dream, finally laughing and talking where you could see one another and study each of his expressions as he took each word that left your stuttering lips. Hours pass, and the conversation continues to burn through the night as it’s carried happily between the two of you.

It was so much better, but not nearly enough. A frustration shared by both you and him began to show as the veneer hiding it broke away.

“But, I wanna bury my face in your neck.” His voice deepens, showing a glimpse at a small possessive side. It was something you’d initially feared from an alpha.

“I gotta see you for real.”

It’s so sudden, you could hardly believe it would always be like this for omegas, but how could someone who had shut themselves away for so long really know?

You think back on what others spoke of during their tales of pleasure and even the more harrowing words from your physician only a few weeks prior. They’d cut off your suppressants ‘for your own safety’, and urged you to seek a sexual partner in the most blatant terms. But, they weren’t wrong, and with another possibly fatal heat on the horizon, you had to make a very difficult choice.

“Maybe we should. It's just...” You stopped for a second to calm yourself. “It hasn’t been very long, and you're already..so smitten.”

“Can you blame me?” His voice rang low over the speaker yet still sang through your worries so melodically.

His tone drops, becoming more serious and heavy, so much so that it only echos the ever-grave voice that bounced around the back of your mind. “What are you scared of?”

It hit close to home, like he could be looking right through you and seeing every mounting fear you tried so hard to bottle up.

“It's just, with a heat coming in a couple weeks..” you tried to ignore the breaking of your own voice as you spoke. You didn’t want this to be the reason why, and you didn’t want it to be so soon that you two had to meet or finally be intimate. “...and I just don’t want to rush things. But I agree; maybe we should consider meeting in person soon."

You fought not to let your true emotions show and not to let your true fears come to light in front of him. It was a relief when his face lit up with so much joy. He just stared back at you, his eyes beaming through the screen.

You could nearly cry. After ripping off this first bandage, it was such a relief that you finally felt you could breathe properly. You chuckled happily together, taking in each other's joyous reaction when he finally spoke again.

“I can send you an invitation right away. I can be there for you.” He spoke so passionately, looking at you with big, wet blue eyes before typing away at the keys on his keyboard.

“W-what invitation?” You nearly coughed on the words as they left your throat.

You do think back on the vacation packages on the original website and how they boasted about safety as well as elegance. The thought of having that kind of special getaway with the Alpha often, finally seeing Bucky where the sun could hit his skin instead of in the glow of your laptop monitor.

But, he was still technically a stranger, in spite of the two of you consistently sharing messages over the course of several weeks. Running away with him seemed, in the most juvenile sense, stupid. Yet, a twinge in your stomach urged you to leap at his offer.

“It is such a beautiful resort.” You chuckled nervously. You recalled all the photos you’d scrolled through before he’d matched you on the website.

“I’ll meet you anywhere you want me to, Omega. I just want to feel you so bad.” The low drag of his voice wasn’t unfamiliar by now, after having heard similar sentiments during a steamier exchange over a phone call. You felt a little embarrassed as your skin started to flush again.

“I don’t want to make you spend that much money on me.”

"This is not about money. I just want everything to be perfect for you.”

You try to force yourself to speak, but each word falls flat on your tongue. He was offering you what felt like a lifeline with open arms. You never wanted something like this to progress so damn quickly, but maybe you were really that desperate. Maybe you were really that scared.

It was so nice to be wanted, and by him especially, an alpha unlike any other you’d ever met. You still wanted time to think about it, but what time do you have left before a possible disaster? The date of your heat was growing closer, but you had to afford at least a night to ponder something like this.

“C-can I have a few days to think about it?”

Chapter 4

Tag list : @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll

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alt-vera · 2 years

Text

— cigarettes out the window ⁀➷

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every night joel miller’s neighbour smokes cigarettes out her window, and every night he watches her do it.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.4k | ❛ cigarettes out the window - TV girl ❜

warnings: smoking. mentions of parental death. soft!joel miller. praise. fingering. piv sex. cockwarming. established age gap. mdni.

❝ but she never really quits, she’d just say she did ❞

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

JOEL ONLY EVER SAW HER AT NIGHT.

　The moon would shine brightly over the QZ, reflecting off posted signs and apartment windows as the streets quietly hummed through the late hours, desperate to sleep. There she would be, a girl hanging out her window with small puffs of a smoke wafting out of her mouth, cigarette lit and resting between her fingers like a ruby ring.

　There was only an alleyway separating their buildings. Close enough to hear her sighs but never to touch her youthfully tired face. Joel found a simple pleasure in watching his neighbour smoke as her eyes watched the street beside them buzz with hidden life, rowdy kids sneaking home, out past curfew and desperate not to be caught by FEDRA.

　He didn’t know her name, and didn’t care to. There was something just so oddly serene about how carelessly she rested her elbows in her window sill, and how her smoke would blur the stars and paint the night sky with a temporary cloud. He wondered how she got the cigarettes, a seemingly endless supply.

　He didn’t find out until she became a customer of his.

　Apparently whoever she’d been trading with before had been caught, and so she’d found a new dealer through word of mouth. That dealer was none other than Joel Miller.

　You’d never come to him for anything other than cigarettes. Never pills, or booze, or any other amenities he had stockpiled. Only those thin sticks off nicotine.

　Somehow your relationship had changed from retailing to romance, and Joel often found himself tangled up in your sheets. He’d wake up in the middle of the night to air nipping at his bare skin, and he’d look to find you with your upper body out the window, smoke curling around you in a tobacco-smelling aura.

　He’d watch you stand there for an hour, sometimes longer, before you’d brush your teeth quietly and then crawl back into bed with him. Despite your best efforts, the stench of smoulder would remain, lingering on your tee as you snuggled into his warm body. He’d inhale it as you pressed into him, enjoying the smell of it. The smell of you.

　You always promised him you’d quit, but those words became more empty the more Joel heard them.

　One night in particular, he crawled out of bed to wrap his arms around you as you took your clockwork stance at the window. Your cigarette glowed between your fingers as you inhaled, puffing out the smog.

　“Why’re you up, darlin’?” He questioned softly, nose nestled deep into your hair.

　“Can’t sleep,” You mumbled in reply, goosebumps gracing your bare arms from the cool summer air. You ignored the shiver crawling through your body.

　“It’s cold,” He murmured back, his hands coming to rub your arms in an attempt to warm you up. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

　“I will in a minute,” You replied softly, eyes finally turning to meet his. He could see the well of tears in your eyes, and his brow furrowed.

　“Darlin’, what’sa matter?” He questioned tenderly, his own eyes swelling with worry. Joel was a rough man, but in moments like these his old-self broke through. The self that cared deeply for the ones he loved. The self that lived proudly before the world went to hell.

　“Nothing,” You replied, flicking your cigarette into the street below before breaking away from him and stumbling back into bed. Joel followed quietly. The window remained open.

　The silence stayed between the two of you like a wall, but eventually you began tearing those tense bricks away.

　“Y’know, I came here with my mom,” Your words were soft and careful, as if you were telling him a secret that no one was supposed to know. Joel listened intently. “I was thirteen.”

　He hummed, showing he was listening. You continued.

　“For my birthday, she wanted to get me something special, but trading wasn’t very big yet, and the few people that did had nothing good to offer. So, she broke into that boarded up mall.”

　He could hear your voice tremble as the vulnerable words left your lips. His thumb absentmindedly stroked your arm, attempting to console you.

　“It’s been twelve years since then,” You let out a sorrowful laugh, “I’ve watched this city change for twelve years. New signs come up, old ones come down. All these signs she never got to see…”

　“All over a damn birthday gift.”

　You laughed again, and Joel hugged you too him. No tears left your eyes, and his shirt was dry when you pulled away. “She would’ve liked you,” You said as you smiled tenderly, “The cigarettes you get are always the brand she smoked. You would’ve been an angel in her eyes.”

　Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sure i would’a liked her too, especially if she was anything like you.”

　The sadness that creased your eyes changed into one of a faint happiness, and you pulled him into a deep kiss. Joel could taste the nicotine on your tongue, and it drew him in as a second-hand smoke. Cigarettes were your addiction, but you were his addiction.

　The kiss turned into something more, his fingers dancing around the hem of your raggedy tee until his hands slipped under them, cupping your chest as your nipples pebbled from his chilled fingers. You moaned his name, a desperate call for him.

　He moved one hand to dive into your panties, fingers gathering the slick you’d developing as you had kissed him. He used the arousal to guide himself into you, fingertips slipping against your gummy walls as he fucked you with his hand, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes closed in euphoria, your moans gracing his ears as you begged him to keep going, a tide of pleasure rolling over you as you reached your high.

　Your hips twitched from overstimulation as you moved to palm him through his ratty boxers, gentle hand pulling the waistband and slipping inside to stroke him.

　“Baby,” His groan reached your ears as if it were a melody, urging you to continue, “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

　“Do it, Joel,” You spurred him on, his hand coming to replace yours as he pumped himself, pulling his boxers down and climbing on top of you, slipping his body between your legs as he traced his tip through your folds.

　A plead left your lips, begging for the teasing to stop. Joel let out a light chuckle as he complied, entering you carefully, allowing you to stretch to him. Obscene sounds met his actions, and he began to move, fucking you to an imaginary beat in his mind.

　“Good girl,” He groaned, a finger tracing your plush lips as he thrust inside of you. “Taking me so well like this.”

　You moaned at the praise, and Joel smiled adoringly, continuing to fuck you until your wave washed over you again. His hips stuttered as he reached his own peak, thick cum painting your walls.

　He stayed inside you as you both fought to catch your breath, pants leaving both your mouths. You pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, finger tracing his jawline.

　“Can we stay like this?” You asked, voice low as if you were scared of his rejection. You felt him nod against your stomach, and you fought a smile as your fingers began to deftly play with his graying hair.

　Joel relished the domestic action, melting into your intimacy. He breathed in the smell of smoke that stuck to your skin like perfume.

　“Joel?” You asked after a moment.

　“Hm?” Joel replied, hum muffled through your shirt and skin.

　“I’ll quit tomorrow,” You murmured softly, and Joel laughed.

　“Alright,” He said, turning so that you could hear him clearly. He raised his head, and his eyes met yours, a glimmer of jocose hidden in his deep eyes. “You’ll quit tomorrow.”

　You both knew it wasn’t true. Joel would continue to scour the Earth for that one specific brand of cigarettes that you smoked, and you’d continue you lean with your elbows on the open windowsill, smoke clouding and painting a familiar aura around you.

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godspeedviper · 5 months

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Preacher's Daughter - Jonathan Crane x Reader

𖤐 Summary: Jonathan Crane reminisces on a rendezvous he had in his youth back in Georgia with the town preacher’s daughter.

𖤐 Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

𖤐 Word Count: 826

𖤐 Rating: +18. smut. gun kink. blasphemy. degradation. femdom.

“Yer trespassin’ boy.”

That voice, sharp, succinct, like the predatory click of her daddy’s shotgun, signaled the start of our game. I may have been the prey, but she was the prize. So I raise my hands in defeat, I play along, and quietly walk down the empty church aisle in the dark. She pressed the barrel of the gun on the small of my back and I could already feel myself grow hard. We couldn’t go to her house on account of her 5 siblings and pastoral parents, and my house was no less forgiving (crazy grandma Keeny’s reign of terror was at its peak). So when we wanted to sin, the local church seemed like the safest option. This only served to heighten the illicit nature of our rendezvous.

“No I aint.” I said to her, a shit eating grin apparent in my tone of voice. “This here is the house of God, not yours.”

She walked me up to the pulpit and made me kneel, pushing me to the floor with the heel of her boots. I looked up at the preacher’s daughter as she stood over me, powerful, and committed the image to memory. The way her skin glowed under the silver moonlight pouring in through the church windows, shadows accentuating every curve, and her daddy’s shotgun glittering menacingly. Years later she remains the only woman who could bring the great Scarecrow to his knees, quivering.

“I am God.” she said, and she was right.

Suddenly, I feel a pressure between my legs. I look down and see she is pushing her boot onto my tented blue jeans. I gasp, and she swats my outstretched hand with the butt of the shotgun.

“Now, I want you to put your hands together and pray.” she says.

“Why?” I reply, voice raspy.

“Because you’re a sinner.” her voice was curt.

My vision, now clouded with lust, begins to see dull halos of moonlight around my lover’s stern gaze. I put my hands together and begin to do as I’m told, closing my eyes and mumbling a Hail Mary as quickly as I can. She pushes the barrel of the gun to my forehead and her foot to my sex.

“Again.” her dissatisfaction was made clear.

“Hail Mary fullofgra-'' I ramble off, beads of sweat blossoming on my brow in the thick Georgia heat. She flips the rifle and hits me again. My head begins to spin, and I slowly turn my gaze back up to her, hazy and dream-like.

“Say it right, boy.” she returns the cool metal of the gun barrel to my feverish skin, and I give out a small sigh.

“Hail, Mary, full of grace…” I pause and make sure to lock eyes with her. “The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

She pulls the gun away from my forehead, casting it aside, and removes the pressure from between my legs. She then kneels down before me, cupping my face into her gentle grasp. We share a chaste kiss and she lovingly whispers to me.

“Good boy,” she says.

Her hands reach down and begin to remove my belt buckle. I help her speed the process along, gasping breathily as I free my member from its confines. She puts her hands on my chest, and I can feel her clammy palms through the thin fabric of my white tank top. She was just as nervous and aroused as I. For a moment, our personas dissipate into the surrounding humidity, and we both moan in unison as she lowers her body onto my lap. Her insides felt just like a ripe Georgia peach at the height of summer,

slick,

moist,

sweet.

“Now,” her voice was little more than a gasp. “Say it again.”

I extended my legs beneath me, putting one hand on the floor to lean on, and the other slipping in under her nightdress to feel her bare skin. She held still, defiant, and I could tell she wouldn’t move till I said my part. I took that moment to kiss her neck and lick her ear. She shivered, and I took in one last deep breath. Her skin smelled of old fashioned bar soap and a cheap vanilla body spray that she used to try to hide the scent of Marlboro reds. With each word I uttered she hastened her pace, rolling her hips against mine until she reached a full gallop.

“Hail, Mary, full of grace,

the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death…”

Like a man possessed, my back arches up, eyes rolling, and I see the light.

“Amen.”

ao3 || Ko-Fi || WiPs || Guidelines

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy scarecrow #cillian murphy characters #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x you #dc scarecrow #preacher's daughter #southern gothic #minors do not interact #minors dni #dc smut #dc fanfic #gun kink #blasphemy kink #femdxm #church sex #divider by cafekitsune

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critrolesideblog · 27 days

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AO3

"Hi, Yussa!" Yussa paused, fork suspended in midair, as the voice of Jester Lavorre flared into his mind, sudden and bright, but not at its usual break-neck pace. There was a slight pause as she considered her words. "Caleb wants to send a friend through your teleportation circle tomorrow… Friend is from Xhorhas… just passing through… Caleb casting - that okay?" He heard a note of triumph in her voice as she managed to complete the question within the allotted word limit. From Xhorhas… It was not every day he had visitors from Xhorhas, and for Caleb Widogast to ask… that was intriguing.

"I may be amenable to that, so long as Widogast is not handing out my teleportation coordinates to whomever requests them."

"He's not." The reply came so closely on the heels of his own that she must have started casting before he completed the thought. "He really wanted me to stress that. Great! Esssss- our friend will message you when he is on his way. He's cool! You'll love--"

"Very well," was all he replied, and as the spell released, he felt a reverberation of annoyance at his failure to use up the space allowed. He smiled to himself as he retrieved his fork and called to Wensforth to clear his schedule. Tomorrow promised to be an interesting day.

---

"Well, we should get on with it I suppose," Caleb said softly. His breath was warm against Essek's ear as he squeezed him tightly one last time, and Essek breathed in the now-familiar scent of him -- woodsmoke, incense, leather, parchment, Caleb. Essek knew he was right. They had delayed long enough as it was, lingering on an outcropping of rock, sheltered from Eiselcross's fierce winds and bitter cold by Leomund's Tiny Hut. Caleb had important things to get to in the Empire, and Essek should not keep him from them. But he indulged in his selfishness a moment longer, keeping his grip around Caleb firm. He was the stronger wizard, by a hair, and Caleb did not resist the embrace. Instead, he leaned his cheek against Essek's for a breath, and then offered a kiss there in exchange for his release.

"I suppose so," Essek agreed at last, keeping his hands in touch with Caleb's form until the very last brush of fingertips against fingertips as he slipped from his grasp and crouched to begin drawing the teleportation circle.

Essek turned away from the sigils being drawn and looked out over the icy tundra. The day was fittingly grey and dreary, the sun a weak suggestion of a glow through the haze of snow on the horizon. He pulled a copper wire from his pocket, stretched it, condensed it, collapsed the distance between his voice and its intended recipient: "Hello, I hope I am not intruding. I will be arriving in one minute."

"Thank you for the warning," replied an unfamiliar voice, sounding pleasantly-surprised. "I will be waiting."

Curious.

"He sounded surprised to hear from me," he called back over his shoulder. "That was the plan, was it not?"

"Ja," Caleb's voice sounded amused. "But our calling ahead is usually a message from a few floors up after we've already arrived."

"Ah… yes, that does sound like you."

"It's a good thing Jester is so charming."

"We will have much to commiserate over."

"Ready?"

Essek turned back to find Caleb twisting the remaining stub of chalk this way and that in his hands, the circle beyond awaiting the final marks that would complete it. He took a deep breath to steady himself and with a flourish of his hand and a murmured word cast Disguise Self. He then slipped a pearl from a pouch on his belt and held it close enough to Caleb's forehead to feel the warmth radiating from his skin but vigilant not to touch it. Caleb's clear, blue eyes looked at him with such warmth that it made him want to say foolish, selfish things about running away together or venturing into Aeor once more, but he murmured only the verbal component of the spell and took another steadying breath.

"Good luck, Caleb Widogast."

"Don't be a stranger."

Caleb knelt again and completed the final rune.

------

Disguise Self.

Disappointing.

Yussa had all night and the better part of the morning to hypothesize on the identity and motivations of his intended guest and came up with a few interesting theories. Interesting being the key word. The Mighty Nein were many things, but never dull.

He could allow that the handsome, young Drow now standing in his teleportation circle had applied the spell in a smart way: shifts to the hue of his skin and eyes and adjustments to his facial features, leaving his hair, clothes, and the shape of his ears true to form. Such small changes were harder for the untrained eye to spot. But he had to have known he would be arriving to a pair of very well-trained eyes.

The young man arranged his features into a soft, politician's smile.

"Yussa Errenis, I presume." He bowed politely, speaking in Common. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Yussa dissected his features for tells of the veracity of this statement, but even looking past the paltry illusion, he was hard to read. Good for him, he supposed. Good for his chances at surviving this side of the Ashkeeper Peaks, anyway. There was a slight shift in pitch to his voice that might have been earnestness, but he arrived in Yussa's home in a poorly-thought-out and -- more importantly -- boring disguise. He could not allow that to pass unchecked.

"Welcome," Yussa replied in High Elven to match the young man's mask (and his own). He watched his attention come to a still point on the sound of his voice as he continued at a conversational speed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And what is your name? Ms. Lavorre did not provide it." He knew high-born Drow (which he would wager his guest to be given the fine make of his clothes, if he were a gambling man, which he was) often studied High Elven as part of their schooling, but with little occasion to use it, found it difficult to converse in. It did not help that Drow diverged from High Elvish some centuries ago, influenced by Undercommon in subtle but important ways.

His eyes became sharp above his soft smile as his mind worked quickly.

"Sylmarr is my name. I'm sorry. It took me a moment to… change roads." He responded at length, accented but much more smoothly than Yussa expected, and that was interesting…. Sylmarr… Right.

"Please, come in. I have prepared tea for us."

"Ah, no. Apologies, I cannot--"

"I insist. It would be very rude of me to have you in my home and not at least provide you with tea. Right this way."

Yussa lead the way down the stairs and heard a soft huff and the rustling of a cloak behind him. Sylmarr's steps behind him on the stairs were quiet…

Imperceptible…

Nonexistent?

He glanced back. He had not paid attention to his feet before, noticing only the height of his head to be commensurate with the illusion, but he saw now there was a space between his feet and the steps. Indeed, now that he was so close behind him, he caught …

He never found a good word for it in any language. It was not a scent exactly or a taste but an evocation of ozone and burnt metal and the feeling in the back of one's skull when dizzy and about to fall. Something he hasn't sensed in a long, long time.

Interesting.

Yussa's tower contained a number of receiving rooms for guests of varying importance. The one Sylmarr was ushered into had walls painted a shade of blue that matched the midday sky outside and high windows that opened onto balconies rarely visible from the exterior but which offered sweeping views of the city, the harbor, and the ocean. Layers of finely-woven linen curtains filtered the bright Nicodranian sunlight. The furniture was made of imported, Uthodurnian maple, expensive but not ostentatious. Yussa settled into his favorite high-backed chair upholstered in a rich turquoise velvet by the tea table as Sylmarr paused by the window overlooking the city. When he turned back to the room, his politician's smile was gone, replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"So, do you think my Elvish is good enough to continue with this disguise?"

"Briefly, perhaps, but if you plan to spend much time in the Menagerie Coast, your accent is just strong enough to garner unwanted attention. I would recommend limiting its use to places further afield."

"Understood."

He sat gingerly on the edge of the chair opposite Yussa, as if it might grow a mouth and consume him if he got comfortable. Not an unreasonable fear, all things considered, Yussa mused as he poured the tea. One of the adventurers he travelled with centuries ago was almost consumed by such a creature… Talia? No, Talia, when he travelled with the Wandering Wyrd, was almost killed by a Gelatinous Cube. It was Tyros with the --

"You have lived in Nicodranas for some time?"

"For over two centuries. Before that I travelled. A little bird told me--" at three in the morning last night, when she could not sleep and decided to make that Yussa's problem "--you have been travelling yourself recently."

"A bit."

"With Caleb Widogast?"

"He speaks very highly of you."

"He is an impressive talent and a good ally."

"And a good friend."

"I have not known many high-born Drow to speak of friends."

"Well," Sylmarr retrieved his teacup from its saucer. "I have been called exceptional." Yussa was uncertain whether he actually took a sip or just made a convincing show of it. He fixed Yussa with a sharp gaze as he set the cup back down neatly. "And have you known many Kryn?"

"A few."

"You've been to Xhorhas?"

"Not for many centuries." Yet he remembered the way the wind swept across the plains, ruffling the grasses like a great, invisible hand, the dry caress of it on his cheek. The bustle of the Gallimaufry at New Dawn. The ebb and flow of song as devotees wound their way through the streets. The echoing halls of the Marble Tomes, traversed by its supplicants with as much reverence as any shining temple.

"Have you any Undercommon?" Sylmarr asked, switching tongues as he did so. Yussa smiled at the at the attempt to knock him off his game, failed though it was.

"A bit, yes."

"You are well-travelled, indeed."

"Quite. Now, back to Caleb Widogast." This elicited a small crack the genteel mask as Sylmarr's eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly. He sat back in his chair then, settling in for whatever Yussa had to say.

"What about him?"

"As I have said, he is an impressive talent and a good ally. I consider him something of a --" Student wasn't right word. Nor apprentice. "A mentee of mine, if you will. We have different arcane specialties, but I believe I have some wisdom to offer on surviving as a mage in a mercenary group, not to mention centuries worth of professional connections." Sylmarr made no response, except to pick up his teacup again with a noise of polite attentiveness. "Ms. Lavorre mentioned to me that you are an accomplished arcanist as well, and you've taught Caleb -- I believe her exact words were a bunch of cool magic." Sylmarr frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

"I taught him the basics of my discipline, but much of the interesting magic of mine that he possesses he reverse engineered." He said the last words with a huff of annoyance that had little heat behind it. "He caught up to me very quickly and has taught me some of his own discipline as well."

"You would consider yourselves peers?"

"Yes," he responded quietly, lowering his eyes to his teacup for a moment, and there was a soft, shy smile on his lips, a little awkward and, if Yussa was not quite mistaken, tender. …Ah.

"I see."

"Yes," his smile sharpened quickly into something more keen. "You need not worry about me poaching your mentee." Yussa was only allowed an instant's intimation of indignation before Sylmarr continued. "If anything, I may wish to avail myself of some of your wisdom before too long, if that is agreeable to you." Ah… well… Yussa took a sip of a tea. He supposed if he wasn't losing the ear of the rising star in the field of Transmutation that would be alright, and the proposition did present an opening.

"It is agreeable, but I prefer to know my mentees' names. Sylmarr doesn't strike me as particularly Kryn."

"Neither does Errenis Yussa."

No, it doesn't does it, Yussa mused as he took another sip of his tea. Then again, that was rather the point when he chose it. There were other considerations as well, of course. He reflexively ran the pad of his thumb against a spot on his finger where a ring had not existed for centuries. Sylmarr was watching him with a haughty expression that dared him to challenge his conclusion. He considered the merits of feigning confusion but had to ask. "What gave it away?"

"If my Sun Elvish is a little too rough, your Undercommon is a little too smooth. There are also the windows." He gestured toward the curtains. "It could be polite consideration for an expected Drow guest, but I find non-Drow's idea of dimmed daylight is often still too bright. The odds that you happened to get it just the right amount to see clearly are slim. Also, the way you have arranged your robes -- I believe it is the custom in Gwardan to arrange the front panels right over left, not left over right." It was, but it always felt wrong.

"I see." Yussa set his teacup neatly in its saucer. "In that case, let us be plain with each other." He dispelled the young man's Disguise Self with a flick of his wrist, allowing the lilac eyes, high cheekbones, stardust freckles on twilight skin to become fully clear at last. He let his own facade fall as well.

They surveyed each other quietly for a moment: two Drow in a sunlit room.

The young man bowed politely in greeting as he had when he first arrived. Yussa bowed in return, and asked "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and you are?" His persistence earned him a wry sort of grin, followed by a frown.

"I … have enemies," he responded slowly. "It may be better for your not to know."

"It is always better to know."

That earned him another wry grin and a moment's thoughtful consideration.

"Thelyss," he said at last, with a sigh. "Essek." Thelyss. Not just a noble den, but a ruling den. Yussa did some quick mental math regarding the Luxon beacon the Mighty Nein brought him, some months ago now, the level of political intrigue that would have been required for its Dwendallian sojourn, and the likelihood of Essek's involvement. Interesting. "And you?"

"Errenis Yussa is the only name of mine that matters, and the only one I have used for a long time."

Essek's lips formed a thin line, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. Open curiosity burned in his eyes. Nevertheless, he had the tact to approach his next question gingerly. "May I ask why you left Xhorhas?"

"No." Yussa replied primly, pushing aside memories of that first band of adventurers that wandered into his life (the way Dzi'an's golden eyes shone when he laughed, Anat's swagger, Maggie's sweet voice). "Not this visit, anyway. It is a long story, and I believe you have a ship to catch." Essek conceded the line of questioning with a nod.

"You're not wrong."

Yussa gestured for Essek to stand and with a word and a twist of the hand settled a Seeming spell around him, so he looked much as he did before, though with a new touch of gold embroidery to the hem of his robes. "Do you have Seeming in your repertoire?" He asked, and Essek had the good grace to look mildly chagrinned at the question.

"I do, but I wished to conserve my spell energies."

"Energy expended to avoid a fight is never wasted, young man." Essek barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the platitude, which delighted Yussa to no end, and he smiled smugly to himself as he reapplied his own facade and ushered Essek from the parlor.

"Do the Nein know?" Essek asked, pausing before the front door. "Of your… origin?"

"Not that I am aware of. I did hint once that my appearance in the Empire would cause a stir should my illusion be dispelled, but they had other, greater mysteries pressing on them as I recall. You may tell them if you wish."

"Ah, I only asked because Jester implied to me once that she thought you were a dragon. I wondered if she was pranking me, but perhaps not. Fare well." And with that, he glided out into the bright hustle and bustle of the Open Quay, melding quickly into the crowd and leaving Yussa standing agape in the doorway.

A dragon?

#it's wizard wednesday!#yussa errenis #essek thelyss #shadowgast #couldn't resist a little interlude #see the notes on AO3 for my Yussa is a [spoiler] theory :)#my writing tag

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igetthedisneybox · 5 days

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Óscar Madrigal

Inspired by @hannahhook7744's Encanto AU, and her own character headcanons.

Third image made using https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1558575

Fourth image made using https://www.dolldivine.com/la-colombiana

Fifth image made in Disney Dreamlight Valley

Óscar’s full name is Óscar Horacio Madrigal.

His first name means “dear friend” and his middle name means “time”.

He is the oldest child of Mirabel Madrigal and Bubo Marquez.

He greatly resembles his father, and has his brown skin, nose, and hair. Somehow, he did not inherit either of his parents' need for glasses.

He is seventeen years old.

He has two triplet sisters, Beatriz, younger by fifteen minutes, and Lidia, younger by thirty minutes.

He likes both boys and girls, but is single.

His gift is mediumship. He can see and communicate with the dead souls who can’t/ won’t move on to the afterlife. The Encanto finds this weird and off-putting (because Catholic), and so shuns him. Everyone expects him to hate his gift because of this, but he actually loves it. He likes getting to hear stories from the dead, and help them move on.

His door portrays him standing with his arms out, while many glowing skulls surround him.

His room has wood floors and black walls, but the walls are painted with gold and yellow marigolds. Many sconces and candelabras are hung on the walls, and there’s a seance circle permanently on the floor in the middle of the room. His bed and other amenities are pushed up against the walls.

His symbol is a glowing skull.

Mirabel understands what it’s like to be shunned by the Encanto for a gift/lack thereof, so the two get along great. She’s always there to cheer him up.

Bubo on the other hand is very much A Dad, and tries to bond with his son in various Dad ways, such as fútbol (which Óscar is not into). But he tries.

He and Beatriz are amicable, but are very different people, so don’t hang out.

Lidia can, has, and will beat people up who are mean to Óscar, much to his horror.

He hangs out with the other “outcast” cousins: Sofía, Fuega, Zoe, Hugo, and Andrés.

He gets along best with Pedro, Bruno, Dolores, and Sofía.

Because Pedro’s soul inhabits Casita, Óscar regularly talks and hangs out with him.

He likes to entertain the souls of the dead city children who didn’t make the pilgrimage to the Encanto.

He often looks like he’s muttering to himself while using his gift, which started the rumor that he’s actually crazy.

He looks a lot like Bruno, and is called “Bruno’s twin” sometimes.

He can become possessed by spirits if he does a seance. He mainly does this with Pedro, for emotional reunions with family (and to stop arguments).

His favorite colors are burnt orange, maroon, gold, and mahogany.

#encanto scrapped character #encanto scrapped characters #encanto oc #encanto original character #encanto deleted characters #encanto concept art #encanto next gen #disney next gen #encanto next generation #oscar madrigal #óscar madrigal

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redlikemercury · 9 months

Text

𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍

choso kamo x blk fem reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

☆ Summary: Choso and you are going on vacation, but first he has to put you back in your place.

☆ cw: pet names (angel, darling, baby, dove), oral receiving (f & m), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, size kink?, unprotected, squirting, brat taming? overstim? 18+

☆ a/n: it's been a while since my last post, anyways plz let me know if I forgot anything, and enjoy!

☆ wc: 3.6k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His aloof and stoic nature was something that drew you to Choso. The two of you had been close for a while now. He was so sweet to you and a bit old-fashioned around you. He’ll call you ‘Dove’ or ‘Angel’ when he speaks to you. At first, it bothered you, but he would apologize when you spoke against it, only to turn around and call you again. It was a force of habit. Eventually, it stuck as it grew on you. He was thoughtful of you when the two of you hung out, attentive to your every need, surprising you with gifts while stopping by your home. Choso would give you the moon if you desired it. The loyal, lovesick man was deeply under your spell. Being around him was like heaven; he was perfect, especially in bed. He’ll lay on his back, begging you to bounce faster on his dick. Your noisy pussy would already be filled to the brim from the five rounds, creaming all over his shaft. He was a greedy bastard loving how he molded your walls to take his cock. Those whimpering moans of his were what had you keep going. It was an intoxicating sound. Riding his face was best of all. When he was horny, you swore your clit would have died and went to heaven.

Despite this, you would try everything in your power to tip the odds in your favor for him to be the dominant one, but it’ll always end up the same. When you told him directly one night, he dismissed altogether, and you went to bed early, leaving him to jerk off in the bathroom so he wouldn’t disturb your rest. You still didn’t give up, though. You were going to have your way. The opportunity seemed perfect with the upcoming beach trip the two of you had planned. A lovely resort alongside a shimmering coastline, having the bright white sand in between your freshly painted toes meeting the cold crystal-clear water. The peaceful atmosphere and luxurious amenities had your mind already at peace. All this was paid for by your faithful boyfriend, of course. It would indeed be a wonderful vacation for the two of you.

“Dove, did you remember to get the beach umbrella?” He asked over the phone as the two of you FaceTime while shopping for a new bathing suit. “Yeah, I did. Stop being such a worrywort, darling.” You teased, causing the dark-haired man to pout his lips a bit. “I’m just double checking, no need to tease. I told you I could do it, angel.” He retorted back, causing you to roll your eyes playfully. “I know, I know. Just tone it down with the worrying. I can handle getting a few things for this trip. Honestly, you act like I can’t handle this alone.” You spoke back. You just wanted to show off your vacation box braids as you shopped. You decided to be creative and get them long this time, the medium-sized plaits stopping at your ass. Choso couldn’t be mad at your response, though. He was fully aware of how much he spoiled you. He admired your sun-kissed skin at this hour and how radiant your brown complexion glowed, watching through his tiny phone screen. He could only imagine the intoxicating sweet smell of your perfume and how he would stick his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling such a refreshing scent. It made his dick twinge with excitement. “Just be careful, angel.” He urged with a soft smile creeping on his lips. You grinned before blowing an air kiss through the phone at him, prompting Choso to catch it. “I will, now bye-bye, baby. Love you.” You spoke, and Choso replied with an ‘I love you too’ back before the two of you hung up.

You were determined with your secret motives, striding down the hustle and bustle of the streets on the prowl for the perfect shop. Large rectangular buildings towered above you, casting shadows on the busy sidewalk, and numerous people traveled down the pavement. An abundance of city sounds of cars honking, conversations, and distance music created some enthusiasm for your venture.

A fashion boutique caught your eye with its dazzling display of hot new swimwear with bright prints and a rather scanty display window that encouraged you to enter the establishment. The bone-chilling air condition caused a shudder to run up your spine as you looked around the place. “Damn, it’s cold.” You muttered, walking around and looking at various swimwear. You quickly realize how packed and popular this store seems to be, causing you to be a little discouraged about finding a good bathing suit here, but to your surprise, you find one. On the rack next to you, pick up the sexy red thong bikini as it is to your liking. It would certainly have your more than reserved boyfriend to pay some attention to you. The thought came across that others would be staring too, but all you wanted more was your boyfriend to crack underneath the pressure, even if it had to be something a bit untasteful. You don’t plan on cheating on him in any way, but you were sure a couple of stares from other people would have him asserting that dominant nature in no time.

After waiting in line for an entire century, you paid for your things using Choso’s card as always and returned to your cozy home. Sliding off your shoes at the front door, you made your way upstairs, packing for your trip. You were delighted that your devious plan was getting put into action tomorrow. Once all packed, you took a much-needed shower from the long hot day. Shooting a quick ‘goodnight’ text to Choso and putting on your bonnet, you went to bed.

That next morning, around eleven, you were getting ready, brushing your teeth, putting on some lotion, and sliding on your skimpy new bathing suit with a flimsy, very much see-through beach coverup. Once you had your shades sitting on top of your head, you were ready to go, bringing all your bags and forgetting about the beach umbrella that had stumbled under your bed. Sitting pretty on the couch until Choso came, but your nerves were getting the best of you after a while. The palpitations of your heart were soaring as you folded one leg over the other tightly. The thought of how Choso would react to your body was killing you. Through the fabric of your coverup, you felt the feeling of the excellent plush leather couch against your ass and thighs, squirming around to get comfortable. The red swimsuit felt as if it was becoming tighter on your skin as you were waiting, especially the thong that was getting swallowed up in the back between your plush ass cheeks. That sweet scent of your favorite lotion became more evident to your senses. Such an inviting scent will send your boyfriend over the edge. The cool A/C was the only thing keeping your boiling body from combusting.

Waiting for Choso was agonizing.

You could have simply turned on the television or scrolled on your phone to calm your high-rising nerves, but you knew it wouldn’t. The excitement of seeing Choso’s face when you opened the door is what exhilarated you the most, the sheer jaw-dropping awe. Choso was a man of his word when meeting with you, so you knew he would be here on time, at twelve, like he said on the dot. It was five minutes til twelve, and you stood up and paced in the hall before he arrived. ‘Why can’t time go by faster? This is taking forever!’ You thought to yourself, irritated as your braids swayed back and forth, brushing against your sides and rear.

Ding! Dong!

The sound nearly made your heart jump onto the floor as you exhaled, taking a deep breath. You checked yourself into the mirror one last time before opening the door. Choso stood in front of your eyes in his floral Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, showing off his muscular figure and some swimming trunks. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out as he had seen in your flimsy coverup. There was nothing left to the imagination as he stared at your bikini underneath. Time felt like it had slowed, and the world faded into a haze of desire. His gaze was lecherous and memorized, taking in your figure; every inch of that sexy body of yours made his thirst grow. A gluttonous intent flickered in his eyes, watching those pretty titties when your chest rose and fell. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance and making your heart pound. A desirable tension formed between you once his warm fingers trailed over your cold skin. A soft gasp left your lips, expanding Choso's yearning for you. He entered the house, slamming the door shut before looking back at you with a piercing gaze.

“Angel.. C’mere.” He spoke, but this tone of his was unusual. It was commanding.

As you approached him, a hand cupped your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. Choso’s free hand placed firmly on your waist, tightening his grip. Without warning, he dragged you in for a sloppy kiss, his tongue purging your mouth while entangling your tongue with his. He moaned deeply into the kiss, feeling the drool dripping down his chin. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling and holding him tightly against your body. Some soft gasps seeped through your lips while he gave you an inch, intoxicating you with vulgarity. Your legs were growing weak, hearing the wet smacking noise the two of you were producing. “Mphmm…” Choso whimpered, caressing your cheek more with a sense of possessiveness. ‘Oh fuck!’ You thought to yourself, feeling like you were on cloud nine. A few more kisses were shared between you and him before it broke. The two of you breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath.

Choso soon returned to his modest behavior and kissed your forehead, eyeing your bags next to the couch. “We gotta get going, angel, or we’ll miss check-in time.” He uttered to you, walking over to your bags and swiftly picking them up. You stood there almost dumbfounded. You had only shared such a small amount of time with that animalistic side of him, craving more of it. Seeing back at his usual tendency, smiling for you to lead the way out the door irked you to a small degree. You rolled your eyes and walked outside down the pavement to his car parked in the front.

Choso knew he had gotten underneath his skin, choosing to play coy until he felt like snapping you back down to size. His eyes followed intensely on your fat ass, watching it move side to side. He was highly aware of how much he spoiled you—giving you one of his credit cards, buying you lovely things, taking you on nice trips, paying your bills even though you never asked him. Hell, he paid for any hairstyle you’ve ever gotten since you two started dating.

In Choso’s mind, you’re his only lady, and he would make damn sure you knew that. He knew you would try something like this the moment you asked him first for him to treat you like a slutty whore, a few weeks back. He objected but immediately regretted it, remembering the repercussions. He had his reasons. He wouldn’t mind getting rough with you, but only if you were a total brat, even if it took some ‘encouragement’ to get you there. He wanted nothing more than to see you get so angry at him, only to end up a shaking mess creaming in his dick in a whimpering helplessly. Lewd images of such acts are only left to the imagination. You were rarely ever mad at him. The times that you were sparking a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you were such a good girlfriend that you would always sit down and talk with him about why you were upset. He couldn’t be mad at that, and he admired the way the two of you were honest and open with each other. He still couldn't help wishing for a bit of rise out of you, though, something to spice up the passionate sex between the two of you.

You were slowly shifting into that spoiled bratty personality he wanted to see after that half-assed kiss. Choso grinned while watching that thong get swallowed up by that ass. At best, he was a cunning man, knowing his girlfriend like that back his hand. He just needed to be patient.

Choso had packed all the heavy luggage in the back of his trunk and a few minuscule items into the backseat. He entered the driver’s side. Your arms rested on the passenger side door with a slumped posture. Those furrows, arch brows, and full pouty lips made Choso's cock throb just a little. Despite the devious thoughts Choso had felt, you were highly pissed. To you, it seemed like your plan wouldn’t be accordingly. How could he kiss you like that just to leave you hanging? You were highly needy of him, and the sly bastard knew it, too.

Before the two of you pulled off Choso double-checked all the things you two needed. He noticed the beach umbrella you promised to get wasn’t in the trunk. “Angel, where’s the umbrella?” He asked in a smooth tone. Hearing his voice irked you more and you slung your braids behind your back. Some of them whipped Choso in the face, he was caught off guard with that attitude of yours. “I don't know, it’s probably in the house still.” You said nonchalantly walking back to the house. Choso sighed heavily watching you leave, following behind you. Back in the home, you and Choso looked around for the umbrella.

Choso was becoming just as annoyed as you when you started doing a lousy job helping him search. The tension between the two of you filled with frustration with every passing moment. “Just look upstairs, I’ll look down here.” He spoke in an irked tone. You sighed, annoyed, storming up the stairs. “Whatever.” You snapped back, heading to your bedroom. Choso's eyes furrowed, searching the whole downstairs for the damn beach umbrella, the two of you would be late for check-in time. He didn’t like being late. Going upstairs, he found you in your bedroom lying on the bed. You weren’t even trying to look and wasting time on your phone. “I thought you were looking up here?” He spoke angrily. You scoffed. “I figured you would find it already. I mean, you’re good at everything else.” You said pretty bluntly. Choso rubbed the side of his temples and came up close to you. “This is your damn house; you were responsible for getting it.” He hissed. Your eyes widened when he cursed at you, and you sat up on the bed. “Dammit, don’t get mad at me. We can just leave the stupid thing here.” You sassed him. Choso couldn’t believe that you were so okay with such suggestion. “You’re so stupid sometimes.” He said. Something about seeing the smoldering intensity of his eyes, that jaw being clenched tight, the low authoritative tone had your pussy purring. “Oh really?” You said in a somewhat seductive tone. Choso scowled and approached you, his nose touching yours. Quickly catching onto your advances, it couldn’t be helped that he was just as excited as you were. The fact you were acting out like this, made the bulge he been trying to hide in swimming trunks throbbed.

He had been ignoring the thoughts for a while now, but this was his moment. “On your knees.” He commanded, and you swiftly got into position on the mattress. His hands already pulling up your coverup, pulling down that thong of yours. His two long fingers grazing the lines of your slick folds, before tracing small circles on your needy clit. A soft moan, escaped your lips as you moaned silently. “You’re such fucking hassle you that angel? I’m always giving you my best, and all I expect you to do is be a good girl for me.” His voice was raspy, watching with a lustrous gaze in his eyes before reaching to spring free his thick dick coated in his precum. All that bitching you were doing, while you were getting wet like this drove him insane, he was going to put you back in your place. Pulling his digits free from your needy cunt, his big hands pull you up from bed and turn you around quickly. Your face is nearly touching his cock. “Open wide angel.” He demanded and like the obedient slut you were you did it. His dick invades your mouth slamming his tip to the back of your throat. Gagging and slobbering over his shaft he whines. “God, it feels ss-so good making you shut up.” He whimpers, thrusting faster, as his balls slap against your chin. The rough thrusts had you clenching on his thighs tightly.

Drool coated his girthy cock as you were doing your best to take of him, your throat became sore from the way he slammed into you. The way your eyes looked watered with the tears staining your cheeks from the intensity of it all made him speed up getting sloppy with each thrust. Choso thought it was such a delight seeing you whimper, you were at his command, while you staring down at you made him smirk. Choso got a kick out of those pleading eyes, he gonna fuck the absolute shit out of you for that nasty attitude of yours. Those big hands of his traveled to your box braids, gripping your scalp. He made your head bob faster up down his drenched shaft, with his thrust getting needier. “Shit, angel, I’m gonna show you want a filthy mouth gets you.” He mumbled before he shot the warm cum into your mouth. Choso let out a long whimpering moan, with his head tossed back. He pulled his dick out slowly, before lifting your head to him. “Swallow it. Now.” He demanded you with a deadpan look. Your eyes widened for a second but you didn’t dare question it and swallowed all of it. He smiles wickedly before pushing your body down onto the cool silk sheets. The cool contrast and your hot body made you shiver as you were trying to compose yourself.

“Open them wide for me darling,” Choso spoke, his hands slowly massaging your thighs. His warm touch made you moan softly, opening up your legs wide for him. Your breath was heavy as you were still trying to get hold of yourself, you couldn’t believe he wasn’t giving much of a break. Sliding down his finger to that sloppy hold of yours once again, and using his thumb to circle your clit. The sensation was like no other, as you squirmed on the silk sheets underneath your skin, it felt like you were gliding and sliding everywhere.

“Ch-choso I’m s-sorry..” You whimpered, but that only dug his fingers deeper into your sobbing hole. “Shh-shit.” You moaned. “That shitty apology isn’t going to cut it, angel. We’re already going to be late, because of that nasty attitude of yours. So it’ll be best if I bring the ocean to us….” He chuckled to himself a bit wickedly before finishing his sentence. “yeah, to us, so squirt for me.” He spoke, eyeing your glistening cunt.

His fingers easily slip into that sweet spot of yours making you moan relentlessly, and before you knew what had hit you, your pussy had squirted all over Choso’s abs. He smirks at your fluids pooling on the silk sheets. “Ohh, my god! Ch-choso! I s-said I’m sss-sorry.” You whined, and his free hand gave your thigh a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I heard.” He huffed, still pumping his fingers into your tight walls. “Your filthy attitude is matching this nasty pussy of yours. So do it again for me.” He says, hearing the squelching of dripping cunt. “A—aah! Ohhh!” You moan, and before you knew it you squirted again, the warm fluid dripping down Choso’s abs made him groan. Taking his hand off your thigh, he takes two of his fingers to scoop some up and taste it. “Soo sweet.” He murmurs and uses both of his hands to spread out your thighs.

Cranking up the assault on your needy pussy, he feasts on you intoxicated by your breathy mewls. Your toes started to curl up from the pleasurable sensation, and your back arch further up. “Fuck, you taste so sweet angel, almost makes me forget why I was mad in the first place.” He rasped against your sobbing cunt, before diving in to devour you. “I, uh, I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered, but Choso was too pussydrunk to care, he was becoming greedy. Swirling his tongue around in languid strokes through your pulsing release, slurping up every last drop as your body convulses on the mattress.

Choso lifted his head high to look at your fucked out face and smiled. He leaned closer to you and planted some kisses along your jawline. “Mhmm, I guess being late will be okay, I’ll accept your apology from earlier.” He whispers in your ear. Your eyes flicker over to him as you now can catch your breath. “You do?” You asked softly, as Choso gave a simple nod. “Yes, I figured I should, especially since I want to do this all over again at the hotel, next to an actual ocean.” He said as he saw the beach umbrella peeking from under your bed.

END!

#choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso my beloved #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

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hungharrington · 1 year

Note

for your 1k celebration sleepover🍾🎉congrats eeek!!! You deserve it so much <333 your writing makes me feel things i’ve never felt before thanku for making tumblr great again🫰 –; ik im sending this quite early but i did not want to miss out 😭

(Even if you don’t choose this one just know ily, okay? thanku)

FOR A BLURBBB

“ [ COAX ] the dominant partner gently moving the shy or overwhelmed submissive’s hands from covering their face so they can kiss them, breathing praises against their skin. “ from that first prompt list

“ you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me. “ from the second😫😫 i literally just believe that we need more praise in this world amen😮‍💨😮‍💨💞💞

thank u so much my love!! oh my, feeling things you've never felt before?? that's such a big compliment omg thank u!! this was such a delicious combination & i sorta took the shy part and ran with it- hope u enjoy! <3 MDNI this entire blog is 18+ afab!reader

Steve adores your shyness. Especially when it seems to pop up when he's least expecting it.

You're beneath him, cocooned in his arms, and you just look so pretty getting worked up on his cock that Steve can't help but stare. There's a pinch between your brows, eyes scrunched shut with your mouth hung open — and every breathy noise you make goes straight to his cock. He rolls his hips expertly, hitting the spot inside you that makes you keen.

It works perfectly and he feels his cock twitch at the raspy moan you make, the way you grip the sheets that little bit tighter. Fucking beautiful.

"So pretty," he says lowly, more to himself, but its enough to make you open your eyes. "Y'so pretty."

He's staring at you, intense and reverent. His brown eyes lock onto your own, skirting up and down your skin to drink in how you moan for him. You feel a spool of embarrassment flush through your system, your usual shyness making you squirm for all the wrong reasons. It's too much — the gentle fucking, his slow thrusts, paired with his sweet gaze that's taking you apart. It's too much, you feel too on display.

Your hands come up and you smother the next whimper out your mouth with your hands, your legs tightening their grip around his waist. Steve shifts, his hands moving your hips deftly to change the angle and this time when he fucks back in, sinking his cock deep into your cunt, a loud cry escapes your lips.

Too much, too loud — your hands creep up and you hide your face in them, trying to catch you breath, trying to keep from being too overwhelmed under the heavy gaze of Steve's love.

"Hey, hey, no, don't hide," Steve's murmurs. He noses closer, nuzzling against your fingers to try get you to move them. There's a little flickering worry in him that has his thrusts slowing to a stop, wanting to check you're alright. You stay hidden, breaths still laboured.

The hand holding your waist travels up and gently wraps around your wrist. He doesn't tug. Instead, he presses a soft kiss to your fingers, trying to coax you out with his words. "Please let me see you? Honey, I-"

He pauses to drop more kisses along your hands, beginning to tug gently on your wrist to guide your hand away. "Sorry, f'staring, sweetheart, you're just so pretty, s'just I can't help myself, okay?"

You let him pull your hands back and Steve's glowing smile makes it worth it, reminds you of who you're with, of how much you trust him. The urge to hide doesn't dim but the want to share in this moment with Steve outweights it by a million.

Especially, when Steve says, "There we go. Hi, baby."

He leans down and kisses you, lips pink and plush and good against your own. You kiss back fervently, lit afire from how Steve moans into your mouth. The kiss breaks and you can't help but smile too.

"Hi." You whisper back.

Steve's grinning so much his eyes are crinkling at the sides. He nuzzles down again, a wet kiss placed on your cheek before he steals another from your lips. "Y'okay? Got all shy on me, did you?"

You're too shy to even admit it aloud, so you nod instead, a loud gasp pushing out your lips when Steve starts moving again— his cock nudging your sweet spot so deliciously. You can feel your slick dripping down your thighs, your tummy burning hot.

"That's okay," Steve assures you. His voice is low, barely a hum. Words just for you. "You're being so good for me, letting me see you, mhm."

The praise makes you clench around him and Steve's hip stutter for a moment, a sharp whine falling for his lips. His pace is still slow but his thrusts get deeper, all as he continues his praises against yours lips, "You're so good for me, aren't you? So fucking good around me, fucking made for me."

You mewl at his words, the coil in your tummy turned tighter and tighter by pleasure and Steve melts, feels his lust build higher and higher. It blazes hotter, knowing that you trust him to see you like this— to let him see your moans and to take his in exchange. Steve lets another moan drip through his kiss and presses his forehead against your own as his lips leave yours, close enough to count your eyelashes.

"So pretty," He murmurs again. "So fuckin' pretty on my cock, aren't you?"

#schlay <3 #thank u for sending this in!!!! ur so sweet :“”“)#jay answers #anon #steve harrington x reader #jay writes #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #jays 1k sleepover

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emeritusemeritus · 8 months

Text

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Waking up beside George Weasley was an absolute dream come true, far beyond your wildest imaginations. Light was creeping in through the thin voile curtains of the bedroom, casting everything in the room with an ethereal glow that only added to the sense of fantasy you had since waking. You were still naked but covered by the duvet that you'd shared with George, though admittedly there was more pulled over on your side than his. His arms were tangled around you, keeping you close to him in his sleep, his left hand placed over your belly as he half spooned you. The light glinted off the wedding ring on his finger; a sight that had you smiling into the open room, wanting so much to do a little happy jig at the very thought. You wanted to stay frozen in this moment forever, feeling exactly as you did and remembering all of it with such acute precision that you hoped never faded. Your bladder unfortunately had other plans and so you found yourself carefully but quickly trying to untangle yourself from George's arms, peeling yourself delicately away until you could creep into the bathroom.

Last night had been a rush of sex and sleep, without any thought to unpacking or preparing yourselves for the morning and so as you all but ran to the bathroom, you considered your options. The only clothes you had on hand were your wedding dress and that was an unquestionable no, there were towels you could wrap around you, wander aimlessly completely in the nude as you sought out your bags or steal George's shirt from the floor. The latter was the most reasonable and once you'd relieved yourself and washed your hands, you crept out to check that George was still asleep before ducking out of the room in search of coffee, slipping George's shirt around you as you walked through the rather chilly hallway.

Luckily, the owners of the cabin had left some basic amenities for you, including some fancy sachets of coffee that would require almost no work and so you quickly boiled the kettle and made yourself a coffee, setting a second mug aside for George whenever he would rouse.

George had brought in all the luggage last night and had placed it all by the couches and so you busied yourself with unpacking your toiletry bag and other items whilst you waited for George. You couldn't unpack your clothes yet, not wanting to wake him up and so you stayed in his shirt, feeling comforted by the smell and the soft material. It absolutely drowned you, the sheer size of it almost laughable compared to your smaller frame but it felt wonderful against your bare skin.

After tidying up, you walked over to the kitchen to make another drink, flicking the kettle on ready when the light from the window caught your rings and made them sparkle, catching your eye.

"I'm dreaming aren't I," you hear from behind you and you can't help but jump, even though you knew it would be George. You spin around to see him stood in only his suit trousers, clearly having the same issue you had. He looks so absurdly handsome in the morning sun, hair still messy from sleep and naked from the waist up. "There is absolutely no way people will believe that you married me, look at you."

He walks over to you as you shyly smile at his words, smirking down at you before he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips that takes your breath away, the passion of it coming from almost nowhere.

"Stealing my shirts already Mrs Weasley?" He teases with a smile against your lips, "Godric it looks good on you."

You can't reply, his words ringing in your mind as you feel from the sexiness of the rasp in his morning voice, the sight and sound of him too much for your brain to handle.

You kiss him back with a feverish passion, trying to project exactly how he was making you feel, your hands slipping up to his fluffy red hair. He groans into the kiss and moves forward to trap you against the counter, hips locked together as you keep kissing, the evidence of his arousal so plainly pressed against you. You're on fire, your skin burning with the need for real ease again, brain turning to complete mush as the need arises from nowhere.

His hands fight the last remaining button that was keeping the shirt together, the rest of them having being flung around the room in the skirmish last night. When he manages to pull it open, his hands immediately began pawing at your curves, your naked body exposed to him again as he growls into the kiss. His fingers dance over your skin until his long, skilled fingers slip between your legs.

You moan against his lips as he strokes across your pussy lips, gathering the abundant wetness and teasing your throbbing clit with a feather light touch that drives you mad.

Suddenly, his hands fall away from your pussy as he begins kissing down your neck, over your breasts and across your tummy, sinking downward into his knees. His tongue pokes out and catches your clit with dangerous precision that it makes your knees buckle, though he holds you steady. He reaches out to grab your leg and hooks it over his shoulder, keeping his other hand on your hip so he could hold you steady. Bared before him, he immediately drags his tongue over your puffy lips before sinking deeper until he runs his pointed tongue right from your entrance up to your clit. He circles the aching bud with the tip of his tongue, moaning as he does so, before wrapping his lips around it and gently sucking in little waves that make your head spin. You cry out, unable to hold back as you call out his name, being perfectly worked over by his incredible mouth.

He quickly pulls away but before you can whine in protest, his hands cup your bum and hoist you up onto the counter, legs instinctively parting for him.

He wastes no time, finding that the counter was almost the perfect height for him and licks up and down your pussy, gathering and spreading your wetness leaving no place untouched. You're aching for him, deliciously tormented by his skilful tongue but you need more, need him to fill you.

You reach out for his head, removing your hand from where he'd entwined your fingers on your thighs, pausing him. He looks up with a questioning gaze and you can't help but bite your lip as you look down at him, beckoning him. You pull him in for a blazing kiss as soon as he reaches the right height and your hands immediately set to unbuttoning his trousers, pulling his cock free as they fall to the floor. You pump him in your hand, the delicious weight and girth of him almost making your mouth water as he moans, resting his forehead against yours as he enjoys your work.

"Fuck me Georgie, need you, need to feel you stretching me out," you whisper, moaning at the very thought. You scoot forward on the counter so that your bum overhangs, aligning your hips so that you can guide him through your heat, teasing him before you line him up with your waiting hole. He sinks in slowly, allowing you to breathe through the delicious intrusion, feeling your walls flutter to accommodate him. He pulls out slowly before sinking back in with more force, feeling no resistance from your pussy now. His hands are everywhere, as are yours as he begins thrusting with the most incredible rhythm, hard and fast enough to quench your desire but slow enough on the pull out that you can feel every inch of his perfect cock. He bends down to pull one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth as he fucks you, your bouncing breasts drawing his attention. He licks and sucks over the nipple and you cry out in ecstasy, feeling completely consumed by him again.

Your hands wrap into his hair and around his shoulders, fingers grazing the silver chain around his neck, keeping him close, before you slip down to graze his abdomen, fingering slipping lower to feel where you're connected, feeling your pussy lips stretched out to accommodate him. Your finger slips over your clit and you throw your head back, narrowly avoiding a wooden cupboard, needing just a little more.

George seems to sense this, the angle not being completely perfect and suddenly pulls off your breast before reaching for your thighs. He pulls you away from the counter, keeping your hips aligned and walks you over to the nearest wall, his cock still deep inside you. He holds you tight as he fucks you, the new position making fireworks explode in your mind as he shifts you up and down on his wonderful cock, fucking into you with complete abandon. It's incredible, mind blowing and undoubtedly the best sex you'd ever had. His arms are bulging under your weight and his face is confronted in such pleasure that you can't help but watch him, your own hips bucking harder and faster in an attempt to keep him inside you. Your exposed clit rubs against the little patch of hair above his cock where you're joined and it's sheer ecstasy, every single part of your body at George's mercy.

"Georgie, I'm," you cry out, feeling your orgasm hurtling towards you. He nods, unable to find the words as he fucks harder and harder into you, knowing that his own climax was rapidly approaching. "Cum in me George, baby fuck please cum inside me!"

He roars as he cums, almost on command, dragging you with him so that you climax together, your body contorting and bucking up into his as you cry out. His grip on you is almost painful but it's so erotic, the primal urge so evident as you both ride out your highs together, cock pressed deep inside your clenching walls, chests pressed tightly together and lips searching for each other to whisper sweet nothings and curses.

He rests his head against yours as you both come down, each of you chuckling before he leans down and pressed a much sweeter kiss to your lips before he slowly pulls out and places you down onto the ground, keeping you steady.

"I'm stealing your clothes more often," you joke breathlessly, trying to fight through the somewhat awkwardness that had filled the room after the moment had passed.

"Steal my clothes anytime," he replies, panting himself as he slips his trousers back on, keeping them zipped but unbuttoned. He kisses your head as he walks around you, hand stroking your naked bum cheek as he slips in beside you to boil the kettle, preparing two mugs. You walk over to your suitcase and try to find a fresh pair of clothes and underwear before slipping into the shower.

The shower cleansed not only your body but your soul, washing away the last remnants of your wedding makeup, hairspray and George's cum that had begun to leak out of you and down your leg. You looked at your wedding rings in the shower with a sense of bewilderment, unable to believe that this was actually happening for you.

Until you remembered that it was all fake.

Suddenly you felt sick to your stomach, ashamed and guilty that you'd fallen for your own lie. You'd slept with him, multiple times now and had forgotten the most basic part of the plan, the entire reason for all of these things- it was all fake for the sake of the business. You'd let yourself get drawn in and had been so naive to think that for even a second George would actually want you like this. You were a pity fuck, because he couldn't have anyone else for the next two years, you'd have to do, a temporary agreement, a place warmer.

The high you'd been chasing since yesterday morning had well and truly ran out and crashed down around you, the lightness you'd felt in your chest changing rapidly to a sinking feeling in your gut.

But he'd kissed you. He'd wanted to take your dress off, he'd admitted that, he'd wanted to fuck you. He'd arranged and taken you to this beautiful cabin, called you Mrs Weasley nearly everyone he'd addressed you- that didn't sound like you'd constructed this fantasy entirely in your own head.

Realising that you'd spent way too look brooding in the shower, you rinsed off and turned off the shower, stepping out into a big fluffy towel.

Silently you vowed to yourself that you'd have to talk to him, confront him even on what was happening, as much as you didn't want to. You vowed to yourself that there would be no more intimacy until you knew exact what you were to him.

You dressed quickly and ran the brush through your hair, using your wand to quickly cast a drying spell, a little one off that wouldn't break your agreement to limit magic whilst you were away. When you stepped out, George was reading on the couch in silence, his mug steaming in front of him and the second mug beside his on a matching coaster, waiting for you.

He smiles when you take a seat beside him, finishing up his chapter before he kisses your head, mumbling about taking a shower.

For the rest of the day you fill your time unpacking, reading and then going on a long walk that George had suggested, along one of the many trails through the woodland. If George noticed that you'd been slightly distant, he'd not mentioned anything. Even when you walked ahead or slightly behind, keeping physical distance between you so that he couldn't take your hand, he'd said nothing.

You grabbed lunch at a pub you'd stumbled across on your walk and though you'd conversed as normal, inside you felt that something was missing, feeling wrong all of a sudden, the narrative in your head completely destroying the magic of what had been.

When you returned to the cabin in the early evening, the sun was just setting and the sky was a beautiful mosaic of pink and orange marbled together peeking from behind the tall canopy of trees. George steps behind you and for the first time since this morning, he places his hands on your shoulder lovingly and whispers in your ear.

"I don't know about you Angel, but I think it's time we tested out the hot tub."

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emotionallyattachednerd · 11 months

Text

Firefly | RotB Bumblebee x f!human reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: Smut ( size difference ) and human on top of her bug. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Bumblebee is my favourite autobot. Trying to keep my requests within 1000+ just so I don't get too carried away or burn myself out too much. So far so good I think, maybe. Lets see how I go with the others. Thanks for sending in @lemon-and-lime-hq. Enjoy. 🥰

I found this very useful and I highly recconmend to check it out. They have done amazing and useful work. ❤️

☕ Coffee

"Bee! Look at them all! An't they just beautiful?" You beam brightly as you lay against Bumblebee's chassis, snuggled up against him on this beautiful night with the unexpected yet alluring visitors.

It's date night for you and Bumblebee. He's been staying with Noah and Mirage while taking a break from missions, and he gets to be closer to you as well before he needs to meet up with Optimus again.

Now, on this night together, the fireflies we're all out and lighting up around you. You don't see them often, so this was a special treat.

"From ten thousand lightning bugs." Bumblebee sings through his radio making you giggle gently from one of your favourite songs.

"With so much shit in this world you've got to admire its beauty as well, what lives here, the innocent lives that bring such an amenity to us. So pretty." You coo in delight while leaning into Bumblebee more, admiring the surrounding glowing insects.

"Your smile makes me happier." Bumblebee always admires your alluring smiles, they bring such warmth to his spark, seeing you calm and happy.

Turning your head you face him on a better angle and lean closer, softly kissing the side of his mouth guard and savouring his soft vibrations of delight. He might not use his voice, but you enjoy his radio chatter and his ability to find everything through that.

Moving your hand you lift the shirt off your head, tossing it aside and wiggling out of your skirt and settling yourself back down.

"Daaaaaaamn." Bumblebee admires the black lace you wear as he traces his thick digits across them and against your skin.

His reaction makes you blush while leaning your body against his touch, letting out a low moan as your body breaks out in goosebumps. Your fingers trace over his yellow plating, up over his chassis and gently curling against both sides of his neck cables, earning you a satisfied rev from his engines.

Moving your hands you reach behind and unhook your bra and sling shot that across the grass. Your breasts are in view and your perk nipples harden under his eager touches. The fireflies hovered around and some landed against your skin making Bumblebee coo gently.

"Heavens above." He praises. They do tickle your skin a little but you decide to allow them to hang around during your coupling. Above all, despite his size, you have been able to take his spike before. The very thought makes your heated core throb under your panties.

Your hand descends and you start to rub yourself inside your panties, circling your clit with your thumb while pumping your fingers into your depths, curling against your walls and stretching yourself while planting kisses against his armour.

Bumblebee responds through lingering revs and moans, optics flickering through the growing pleasure that was boiling through him. He retracts his panel and you gasp as you feel the long throbbing length drag against you.

"It's been a while, huh? You're so eager." You whisper through your heated breaths before removing your hand from your core and slipping out of your panties.

"So fricken eager baby."

Now naked, you knew you were perhaps rushing slightly, but you can't help yourself as you take hold of his throbbing spike and position yourself on him, pressing down against his tip before feeling yourself stretch around him.

Gasping you slowly take inches at a time, feeling the ridges drag past your lips and against your inner walls, every throb sending gentle shockwaves through your body. The intense arousal that blooms through you only grows hotter as you take more of him, feeling his metal frame quicker before stopping half way and letting out a long moan as you give yourself a moment.

"Fucking hell. Bee, so big, so good! You're so fucking huge!" You cry out in bliss as you rest your hands against his chassis, clenching down on him as his servos hold you steady around your smaller body on him, wanting to be careful and not hurt you.

"So tight!"

Letting out a wide smirk, you caress your hands across his face before taking hold and slowly start to rock yourself on him, letting out short whimpers with each aching fill provided. You feel every throb and ridge rocking through you, your depths accepting more of him each time you sink back down, your hand moving to your belly where you feel his spike pressing up against you over again.

Feeling the lump gave you such a high, a desire to be filled by him always, to feel the lump and to be filled with his fluids so deeply. You're not crazy, you're simply in love with your robot boyfriend who you wanted to be with forever and always.

Most of the fireflies still hang around, not minding what was happening at all as they land on you and Bumblebee to join the fun. You can't help but giggle through the burning pleasure and glee, loving the glowing sight they provided on each of you.

Bumblebee's optics flicker more, his moans increasing as he holds back his overload. Again, it's been a while, so you're not too far off either from cumming around his twitching spike buried deep in your core as you ride him eagerly.

Your juices flood over him, leaking out onto his armour as you feel the warm leaks of his trans fluids soaking your channel. Moving your hand again you rub your clit gently, whimpering more followed by a loud mewl as you toss your head back, riding him harder and panting through your hammering heartbeat.

"Oh fuck! Bee! I'm close...so close!" You chant your warning to him as you feel yourself about to break loose on him.

"Come crumbling down!" You hear him answer, seconds before he jerks his hips up into you, spike twitching and erupting thick ropes of fluids deep within you, filling your belly where there's a small round lump formed. His sounds were so mechanical, machine like, and you are freaking addicted to it.

All the fireflies suddenly burst off your both during your orgasim and overload, leaving it just the two of you than on this beautiful night. Guess you both kind of scared them away.

Unleashing yourself you cum around him, clenching hard and crying out in bliss as your body convulses against him, planting yourself against his chassis where you pant heavily, breasts rubbing against his warm metal as you catch your breath while letting out soft murmurs.

"I just had sex!" He sings, making you snort a giggle.

"That we did. So good Bee, you're always so good. I'll love you forever my yellow bug. Will you love me?"

"Loved you yesterday, love you still, always have, always will." Bumblebee speaks a quote fondly that makes you blush more.

Gently, he helps you off him, laying you against his chassis and soft blanket he had brought on your date. You lean up and kiss his cheek plating, before nuzzling yourself against the blanket and his warm metal, silently thanking whatever gods were real for making you so damn lucky.

"I love you, Bumblebee." You whisper fondly.

"I know." He answers that silly famous Han Solo quote that you can't help but giggle lightly through your tired state.

You are very lucky indeed.

#transformers #rotb #bumblebee #valveplug #bumblebee x reader #robot x human #reader insert #smut #fanfiction #writing #sugarrusheag

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